…Tomorrow he would attempt an escape from Kopakopa. He had saved up some money, not knowing why he needed to, but now it would come handy. For the moment he left Kopakopa’s grip, he was fleeing to Lusaka and to the arms of his fathers, Ernest and Kamulaza. He had forgiven his father because it was the only way for him to be happy. He never judged people for their actions, only God had that right, his daddy Ernest had told him so.
He was running as fast as his legs could carry him, the house was just ahead. He could see the lights of the house, the curtains were drawn, and the inhabitants of the house were probably asleep, unaware of the terror about to be visited on them. He could get in front of the ivory painted gate now, and he began shouting on the top of his voice.
“Help, Help, wake up” he yelled at the top of his voice. But a shot rang out, and he was still gazing at the lit balcony of the house, when he felt a pain rip through him, he held his throat as blood spurted out of it. Before he fell to the ground, he saw a young woman come out to the balcony, he wanted to warn her, but the darkness enveloped him, and the world blacked out…
Chisala bolted up from sleep like he was yanked out of the dream. He was sweating profusely and he felt a cold chill in his heart.
“ What sort of dream is this?” he pondered. He got out of bed and held his head, there was pain in his head, he thought perhaps it was the speed he used in waking up from sleep. He went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of milk. He always had a glass of milk before he slept, but last night he had forgotten, so, he attributed the nightmare to the lack of milk before bed. But when he got close to the kitchen, he heard whisperings and he stopped. He heard Kopakopa’s voice as clear as day.
Kopakopa: “This operation is very important, there must be no mistakes” he said in his usual coarse voice. His voice was because of too much smoking of weed.
“If you don’t want mistakes, then you must keep that protégé of yours, at home. I have a bad feeling he is going to spoil things for us one of these days.” One of the gang members retorted.
“What is the essence of bringing him along, if he is going to sit in the car and not join the operation” another quipped.
Kopakopa: “Silence, you are forgetting the real issues, which is the operation, not Mabvuto” he thundered, and everywhere became silent. They didn’t talk, neither did they move. Then Kopakopa began to speak in the silence, detailing the operation and the timeline. He quickly jotted down the address of the house in his head and would have lingered to hear more, but someone came out of the kitchen.
Chisala dived into the alcove adjacent the kitchen entrance. The alcove which was a small inlet in the wall, house supplies like cleaning agents, garden tools and other equipment. Luckily it had a door, and Chisala closed it quietly and from a little h0le, he watched the gang member climb up the stairs. Chisala rushed out of the alcove and entered the kitchen yawning and walking like he was sleepwalking. Kopakopa smiled at this and rushed to hold him thinking he would fall.
Kopakopa: “When will you outgrow sleepwalking?” he said fondly. He opened the refrigerator and brought out milk because he rightly assumed that it was milk that brought Chisala to the kitchen. As he poured the milk into a glass, Chisala looked at the people in the kitchen from under his eyelashes.
Chisala: “Thank you” he said sleepily and walked back upstairs.
In his room, the glass of milk was forgotten on the table, he was worried about what he had heard and the dream. Was the dream trying to tell him something?
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