FORGIVE ME PAST: How About That!

“Let’s put it down,” whispered Gerald—he knew how to deal with loudmouths. We gently rested our cargo onto the grassy swamp shore and my partner continued, this time addressing the silhouette of the unidentified interrupter, “It’s nothing, sir.” The tone in his voice suggested otherwise. It was shaky and corrupted with fear. I think his heart, like mine, was pounding like New-Year’s-Day drums. “We.. umm.. we were helping our friend out of the swamp.” The lie was clothed in nudity.

The man torched Stone’s pale corpse, and I immediately got a feeling that he hadn’t bought the prevarication. He moved the torchlight about, scrutinising us, from head to toe, and our surroundings. He paused when the light landed on the polythene bag, then continued to our lower limbs once again. We had folded our trousers but it was clear something wasn’t adding up to him.

“Your legs are dry, there is no mud or water on the body, and those trails show that you’re pulling the body towards the swamp—a total opposite to what you’re telling me,” he gave us the report about his findings. “What do you take me for? An imbecile?” That was when I deduced that this was the finish line of the marathon of our close calls! We had nothing to reply with, without delay; even Gerald, the mastermind, was betrayed by his intense breathing.

The grave man made a couple of steps towards us, perhaps to have a clear perspective of the details. He was now about seven feet from where we were, continuing to inspect everything with his torch. “I know it looks like something else but believe me, we had nothing to do with his death,” Gerald began to plead. “We had no other choice but to bring him here because umm…” The enjambled statements of my partner betrayed us the more. He was losing it!

The dog was now confident enough to sniff on everything surrounding us, including the corpse. “It’s clear to me that you murdered this man, and you’re here to cover-up the evidence,” Mr ‘Inspector’ objected confidently, but at least he was wrong about the murdering part: that flashed a daring idea in Gerald’s mind.

“How much do you want?” he popped the guilt-evident question. What the hell is he doing, I thought. Our tormentor seemed to be unmoved by the audacious question, instead, fed us with more anxiety as he continued doing his unnecessary inspection. “Just tell us what you want, and we’ll give it to you within no time,” he continued, this time ‘stealing’ the man’s attention.

“I want two million, now,” the man announced, his tone woven with boldness. Where are we going to get such money, I debated in my mind. Gerald, however, didn’t seem to be moved by the amount.

“Let me go get it, as my partner ‘gives you company’,” said Gerald. The statement intensified my heartbeat. There’s no way he was leaving me there! I mean, what if he had disappeared in the middle of such a predicament, just as Ronnie did?

No sooner had Gerald attempted to make the first step away, when the man stopped him with the phrase, “Not you!” It must have broken the former’s heart. “You seem to be so crafty. Direct your colleague where the money is, and he will fetch it as you…give me company,” he concluded, defeating Gerald in his own game. As Gerald started to whisper something vague in my ear, the man intervened, “I want to hear what you’re saying.” The fool must have boasted in his heart for avoiding all of my colleague’s traps!

“It’s in the black polythene bag, in the drawer beside my bed,” Gerald said, giving me a cold stare. You neither have the money, nor a drawer beside your bed you fool, I thought. I didn’t know what he was up to but I didn’t ask any audible questions or object physically. Hardly had I made reasonable steps away from the trio, than I heard a brawl spark off, accompanied with dog-barks, that I immediately looked behind to witness what really was going on. In the same instance, Gerald began calling my name for assistance.

After freezing for a few seconds, I realised Gerald was allover the man, clearly winning the battle; the dog running round them; as the torch spotlighted the scene, while it lay abandoned on the ground. He had his strong right arm around the man’s neck, a move he loved so much to do. This, all along, has been Gerald’s plan, I thought, before I decided on the role to play in the fight. Picking up a brick, I dashed towards the ‘arena’ to play my role. And there it was, so clear to me!

When the beast realised its master was losing the fight, it planted its short stabbing spears, in its mouth, into Gerald’s calf of the left leg. It roared, frantically, attempting to separate flesh from bone. Gerald groaned as he tried to kick it off, but the determined opportunistic scavenger never lost its hold. My role was to strike it, and after a few seconds of indecisiveness, amid Gerald’s cries, I hit the beast’s head with the brick. It moaned but didn’t ease it’s grip even so.

“Get that crazy animal off my leg, Kuba,” Gerald cried. “Aaahhhh, it’s teeth are digging into my soul! I picked the brick again, and this time round I hit it harder—the brick even bounced and landed on Gerald’s knee as well, breaking into two and falling to the ground. Gerald awarded the fresh pain with a fresh wail. As for the dog, it went mute at once, unable to cope with the effect of the heavy blow. It must have got a concussion. It fell unconscious, but even so, the beast didn’t let go of the leg, and like a killer terminate, it was determined to die as a hero, with its mouth-blades inside its prey’s flesh.

Our few-minutes tormentor really disappointed me! He didn’t put up a fight that matches his scary voice when Gerald put him down with the neck-grip. He faded so fast that a few seconds after his dog lost its attempt, he lost his breath as well. Gerald didn’t let go immediately. He was so enraged that he perhaps wanted the man’s corpse to feel the remaining pain of his strangle. I understood the frustration he was going through, so I didn’t bother him with my words.

“How about that, you tit?” Gerald imprecated in anger, pushing the fresh corpse on the side. I picked up the bright torch and put it inside the polythene bag so that it provided a dim light that would be of help, other than the bright one that could attract other people—we were lucky it had not as yet, for that matter. Gerald forbade me from helping him up, saying his leg was as hurting as tentacles after suffering a kick. “You have to dump those corpses alone because this wound doesn’t look good,” he announced, tying the man’s shirt round the area to stop the river of blood flowing from it.

In a rush, I undressed the man’s corpse and pulled all the three bodies, one by one, into the awaiting swamp. After adding some extra pressure pushing them below, they finally disappeared completely into the muddy swamp. I used a clean part of Stone’s corpse’s polythene bag to wipe off the mud and toad eggs that had plastered my hairy legs, before throwing it on the stuffed swamp surface. The slippery feeling was so disgusting. Having completed the mission, with bonuses, I collected all our new property and helped Gerald on our way back to our abode.

“We have to wait until tomorrow to get you some serious treatment,” I told Gerald, cleaning the wound with his bandana, soaked in gin, as he grinded his teeth, resisting the wails he was supposed to be making with every wipe and pressure I applied onto the fresh wound. He only noded his head in affirmation. After two sackets of gin and a stick of marijuana, Gerald succumbed to the call of sleep which was supported by his sickly state.

There was so much for me to reflect on that night—or morning because it was already a half past one. My mind at that point was a full store, but before drowning in all it had to offer, I remembered the stranger’s belongings we had come with. I was specifically interested in the trouser, so I picked it off the ground and sat on Ronnie’s bed to give it a search it deserved. Talking about Ronnie’s bed, this was the best chance of enjoying it while he was away.

Anyway, I picked 17,000shs from the left pocket of the trouser and put it aside, before landing on the wallet in the back pocket. Opening it, three pink condom sackets welcomed me warmly. I grinned—finding condoms in a man’s wallet is no news; I even have one right now in mine, as I write, though I know I won’t be able to take it with me to Dubai. Searching the wallet more, the grin drawn my face was rubbed by the unexpected discovery of the late’s Uganda Police Force identity card!