THE SECOND SIGHT EPISODE 4
Location: MADINA-37 HIGHWAY
Alright, so the strange pastor knows his name.
That is no big deal in itself because Boat is the son of a wealthy man, and he has had his fair share of public attention.
The name Yaw Boat is as common as confetti, and pictures of Boat has been splashed in magazines and other publications since his birth, all because he is the son of a man many considered a modern-day business genius.
The rest of what the strange man in black had said, however, are big deals. Real big deals!
He knows Boat is on his way to see a girl he intends to sleep with. Secondly, the man said he had been waiting for Boat under that bridge for a long time.
That is scary … really scary.
Boat had only chosen the highway because he had been caught up in traffic. But one thing tips the scales: by some means beyond Boat’s comprehension, the strange pastor had been able to COMPLETELY STOP a car travelling at two MORE hundred kilometres per hour!
It doesn’t make much sense. Weird stuff like that normally happens in books and in movies, but it is happening to Boat now, and it is scaring him.
Boat does not like it one bit.
He knows that if he does not deal with the present situation quickly it just can spiral out of control, and he hates being forced into situations he has no control over.
Boat turns on him with a tight face, trying to hide his fear and force his anger.
Look here, preacher man, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t give two hoots about what you want from me. Just get yourself outta my damn car!
The man looks at Boat for a long time, his eyes seeming to dig deep into him. There is no expression on his face now, but his eyes hold a hint of mild puzzlement, and then he exhales, as if he has been holding his breath.
My name is Paul Anderson. I’m the pastor of a small church in Takoradi.
I don’t give a shitty damn. Do I look like I give a hoot if you came from Pluto? Just get the hell out of my car, will you?
Listen, young man, I don’t have time, nor the energy, for your nonsense. I came here for a purpose, and as I said, I have been waiting here for you for a long time.
Cut out that crap, will you? Are you trying to tell me that you knew I was going to use this highway today? If it hadn’t been for the damn traffic I would’ve been miles away from here! I don’t want to listen to any bullcrap you want to tell me. I think you’re suicidal, and I think you need help. Just get out of my car, or I promise I’ll throw you out.
For one brief moment the pastor looks utterly confused, and his eyes look at Boat carefully, as if he is trying to convince himself of something.
After a while the hardness comes back into his eyes, and his jaw hardens perceptively.
You’re rude and uncouth. I find your choice of words utterly disgusting, but I don’t blame you. You have no control over yourself. This utterly base and dirty character has been woven on you, and you’ve had no chance of escaping the web. But you’re going to listen to me, so you better shut that big mouth of yours and listen.
Boat stares at him like a moron.
He is totally convinced now that the man had probably escaped from a mental institution somewhere.
For a moment Boat is tempted to hit the man, and then he shakes his head and turns to the door.
He has decided to get out and drag the pastor out of his car. He is so furious now, and he tries to calm himself so that he does not attack the man and possibly kill him with his bare hands.
And then Boat realizes that the door is not opening.
It is a fairly new car, and the door has never jammed before. He pulls the release lever over and again, but the door just will not open.
Frantically he pulls and pulls, trying to convince himself that it is a mechanical fault, and doesn’t have anything to do with the strange powers of the man by his side.
That door is not going to open until you hear me out.
Boat suddenly loses control.
He spins on round, his face filled with sudden hatred and fear.
A damn magician, are you? Want to try your little tricks on me, right? Mister, you’re about to get your nose flattened and your scrawny neck snapped if you don’t get out of my damn car right now!
I’m sorry it has to be like this, son. There was no other way. If I had approached you anywhere else I would’ve risked killing us both. This is the only way. Would you please just listen to me for a few minutes?
No! Risked killing both of us? What kind of nonsensical drivel is that? You’re one messed-up guy, aren’t you? I’m done playing with you, Mister. If you don’t get of my damn car I’ll drive to the next police station and let them lock you up!
He looks at Boat sadly.
How can you drive to the police station if your car won’t start up, Mr. Boat?
Boat gives him a fiendish grin, turns, and turns the key in the ignition.
The engine doesn’t even kick.
Nothing happens. The key turns in the ignition alright, but nothing clicks. It is the kind of dead reaction that happens when one or both of battery terminals came loose.
Boat feels the heat of panic rising in him. It is no ordinary panic; this is a terrified explosion which is building up fast like a volcanic eruption in him.
Whatever is happening needs to be stopped immediately. Already that fear is coming back, that irrational panic scares the hell out of him anytime he wakes up from the nightmare.
The agonized terror is roaring deep in his veins now, threatening to suffocate him. He needs relief bad, and needs to get rid of the man beside him quickly and efficiently.
Suddenly Boat wants to hit the man.
He wants to take the pastor’s thin neck in one hand and pummel his face to pulp with the other hand.
The pastor is freaking him out, driving him close to madness, forcing him to the edge of panic. No one ever does that to Yaw Boat, and gets away with it.
Boat’s fists clench on his thighs, ready to explode.
He turns on the man, drawing his fist back to hit him hard in the face.
He freezes suddenly.
There is a gun in Pastor Paul Anderson’s hand now, held quite steadily, and the cold, round hole in it is pointed unwaveringly in the general direction of Boat’s heart.
The pastor’s eyes are cold and hard again.
I won’t say I’ll kill you, Yaw Boat. However, if you force my hand, I won’t hesitate to maim you.
The man of God looks ridiculous, and sounds silly, but Boat knows that he means every chilling word.
Boat stares at him with impotent rage, suddenly aware that he has no choice than to listen to this mad man.
He shivers with rage, but deep down in his soul he can feel the cry of terror and feel the bitter taste of fear in his mouth.
(in a whisper)
You crazy bastard!
Now you will listen to me.
A CRAZY KIND OF TALK
Location: MADINA-37 HIGHWAY
Although the pastor has dropped the gun to his thighs, Boat notices that the muzzle is still pointed at him, and the man’s finger is still curled around the trigger.
The strange man sighs.
It is a long, exhausted sigh, and he gingerly rubs the back of his neck, and all the time his eyes never leave Boat’s face.
What’s this, pal? Cat got your tongue now? Thought you were going to talk, so what’s with the mummified silence?
The pastor makes no reply.
He takes his eyes off Boat briefly to look at a Volkswagen beetle in the last lane, chugging past and honking loudly, the driver drawing rings around his temple with a forefinger in a gesture that states they are quite mad to be parked right in the middle of a speeding lane.
I hope you know it is illegal and dangerous to park on the highway. Very soon the cops would be here so you better think about preparing a surprise for them too.
No cops will show up. In my ministry I’ve done things for Jehovah I had not understood, but this moment just about tops them all. Here I am, about to tell you things you certainly wouldn’t believe and would make you think I am some sort of crazy man giving you a crazy kid of talk. And yet I must say them to you because I can’t disobey Jehovah. Believe me, Yaw Boat, this is really a trying time for me. But who are we, mere mortals, to question Jehovah?
Once again Boat gapes at him, and had to snap his mouth shut suddenly to stop himself from drooling from the sheer weight of the idiotic speech he has just heard.
Wait. Let me get this straight. Are you trying to tell me that Jehovah God, the supposed Creator of Heaven and Earth, sent you to me?
That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Mr. Yaw Boat.
Boat no longer has any doubts.
The laughter swells up from somewhere deep in his guts and explodes out of his throat violently.
He literally bellows with laughter, a braying sound that is an embodiment of the profound relief he feels, and doesn’t seem to be able to stop.
He laughs so hard that he feels a stitch in his side.
(gasping for breath)
You’re mad, you know. You’re an absolute mess, man. However, before you go on, I think it is befitting to tell you that I don’t believe God exists. I’m an ordained pagan, so please don’t waste your time. Just spare me any crap you have in your sick mind to tell me, pastor.
Once more his face is a picture of indecision and faint alarm, and his brow furrows slightly.
However, as Boat still continues to giggle, the pastor’s confusion clears, and he nods once to himself, his eyes softening as if an understanding has just caught up with him.
And then he comes back with the sucker punch. He delivers it softly, coolly, his eyes roving Boat’s mirth-twisted face.
Do you have any idea who that woman you had sex with in the dark a week ago really is?
Boat actually chokes suddenly, the laughter sort of turning into bile in his throat, and his expression is that of sudden absolute panic as he looks at the man.
What? What did you just say?
Boat’s throat is as dry as the depths of the Sahara Desert.
You know a dynamite explosive, don’t you, son?
Don’t you fucking son me! Who the hell are you? What the hell did you just say?
The pastor’s voice is calm and concerned when he speaks.
The woman, that strange person you had sex with in the dark a week ago, boy. As I was saying, a dynamite explosive has a fuse that when lit eventually burns down to the dynamite, and it explodes. That woman you slept with that night lit the fuse of the dynamite that is going to obliterate you.
You damn stupid bastard! Who was she? Tell me, who the fuck was she?
Don’t worry about that for now, boy. You will know who she is eventually. Of course it is no surprise that you don’t believe in Jehovah. Your miserable life, since the day you were born, has been carefully manipulated and controlled by forces of evil to achieve just that effect on you.
Suddenly Boat’s head is pounding, and sweat breaks out on his face. He feels a heavy, bad feeling deep in his guts, as if someone has dropped a pound of ice in there.
Who the heck was she, man? What did she do to me? What at all do you want from me, preacher? What kind of evil game are you playing with me, man?
Evil, yes, but no games, Yaw. Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?
I don’t, dummy! I already told you that. I don’t believe in God or His Son or His Holy Spirit! So just leave me alone! What you’re doing is not only creepy, it’s damn scary. So lay off, would you?
I wish I can do that, son, but I can’t. I have to obey Jehovah. He sent me. There is a verse in the Bible, Yaw Boat. EPHESIANS CHAPTER SIX, THE TWELFTH verse. It says, ‘For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.’ Unquote.
And what the fuck was that?
(in a serious voice)
A Bible quotation, son. It simply says there is another world out there, a spiritual world filled with the most vicious ancient powers of darkness, elements that are able to control destinies and able to wreak the most horrific destruction beyond any you can imagine. This is a spiritual warfare kind of world, and you cannot see it with your ordinary eye. Everyday life goes on. We marry, we give birth, people die, people are born, we go to work, we come home … ordinary safe life. But, beyond this normal order of things, evil lurks in the spiritual world, manipulating and destroying people. These are agents of Satan who are bent on causing mayhem to people because they know that soon God will sit in judgement of them!
Boat shakes his head numbly, more confused than ever.
Why are you telling me all this? To make me change? You’re not making any sense! I don’t believe in all that caboodle! Do you want me to repent? Is that it? Repent and get baptized and all that shit?
Pay attention! Focus! The time is short for you, but you don’t know it yet! There is a war going on in the spiritual world. Satan’s cohorts – demons, principalities, all forms of wicked spirits – are moving around the earth, destroying poor innocent people. They are a vindictive, terrible army just bent on destroying people. These demons can possess people. However, some humans can be moulded from birth and prepared to be inhabited by some particularly fiendish demons. Such human beings who are prepared to be inhabited by the demons are kept away from the word of Jehovah. They lead a life of wanton sex, drugs and committing foul sins everyday. When such a human host is totally filled with debauchery to the extent that he, or she for that matter, no longer believes in the existence of God, he is then possessed by the high-ranking demon he has been prepared for. When the human has so been inhabited, he receives a mark on his forehead, the mark of The Beast, Six hundred threescore and six. The numeral is 666.
Boat sits and stares at the man, his mind blank, alternating between formless thoughts.
He tries to convince himself that the pastor is a madman, and his words barely make sense to him.
However, on another level, his words are forming a little cold area Boat’s guts, a cold area that warns him of danger, of a terrible reality that can just blow his mind.
The pastor dabs at his forehead gently with a carefully-folded white handkerchief, and then he turns his eyes on Boat again.
When such a person is occupied by the Demon, he will become a very powerful person society, rich and feared, empowered by the demons in him. These persons are controlled by the spirits that have taken over their souls, and they cause a lot of havoc and destroy a lot of Christians. When a human vessel has been so well-prepared and inhabited by a demon, the chances of the human being ever being saved is almost zero. They continue in their evil, and die in their evil. Yaw Boat, I hope I’ve been able to show you a picture of how terrible it will be for any human to be subjected to such a terrible treatment by demons.
Yaw Boat is now trembling badly.
The chill of terror has gripped his spine, and is having total control of his body and movements.
He can barely look at the man. The question is trembling on his tongue, but he just cannot ask it, because he is scared of the answer, and he does not want to know.
Mr. Yaw Boat, you’re one of the human vessels.
To be continued…
©Aaron Ansah – Agyeman
All Rights Reserved.