The Second Sight – Episode 6

THE SECOND SIGHT EPISODE 6
®20+ SNVL

THE LETTER FROM TADI

Location: JOE BOAT’S RESIDENCE

Their house is within the highly-favoured Air Residential Area, which is probably the most beautiful and coveted area of the capital.

It is filled with breath-taking condos and picturesque buildings. The biggest stars lived in the ARA (as it is popularly known). It is the place for the elite in society, where everybody wishes to own a house, to live in and to be associated with.

It is straight from a fantasy, arranged with explicit finesse and so pristine it almost hurts the eye.

And yet, behind those doors, lie sordid secrets of perverted sex, drug abuse and other little dirty tricks the world would have been shocked to see.

Boat had never liked growing up in the ARA. It is too refined, too prim, and too perfect. There is no dirt here. No beggars, no famine, no degradation, no pollution.

To Boat, the ARA seems like a lifeless painting that has been cut out and pasted here, where everybody holds a cherished frozen position, a permanent existence that is not meant to be dented.

The magnificent street lights illuminate superb streets as he drives along. Street signs warn motorists to restrict speed to approved limits, and to avoid excessive honking.

Boat can hear the sea waves breaking out on the beach with soothing rhythm through his car’s open windows. That is the only thing he really loves, and missed, about the ARA. The sea, the sweet beaches, so wide, so deep, so peaceful.

His father’s house is an imposing edifice in the ARA. The main gate are manned by two security guards, and an asphalt road bordered on both sides by trim grass and royal palm trees lead up to the courtyard.

The building rises like a monster from the depths of the trees. It is a magnificent architectural triumph that has drawn many awed breaths from stunned onlookers. It has everything, and yet it has never been a home to Boat.

He had never felt comfortable in it. He had felt lost and lonely in that house, maybe because it is so big and he shares it with his father and no one else. Maybe if his mother had been around, he would have loved it.

He parks his car behind his father’s Lexus.

Rich exquisite marble floors lead up to the electronically-powered main door. He inputs the key-pass from the secret panel in the lower part of the wall, and the door clicks open.

He enters what is probably the most luxurious living-room in the world and heads straight for his father’s study.

He pushes the door open and enters the gigantic room, divided into a library, a study, and a little relaxation lounge with a bar.

He had always felt like a midget in his father’s study, and it is one of his least favourite places in the house.

The huge French windows give a breath-taking view of the beach, and he pauses to drink in the sight of the waves crashing gently on the rocks below.

His father’s middle-aged secretary is sitting behind a computer, thin glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose, first two buttons of her white blouse undone.

She looks over her glasses at the door when it swings open, and then she smiles warmly at Boat.

Her name is NANCY BONDZIE

MISS BONDZIE

(sweetly)

Hello, Yaw. Where’ve you been hiding yourself? It has been a long time since I saw you around us ordinary folks.

Boat looks around, failing to see his father.

BOAT

Good evening, Miss Bondzie. I’ve been a bit busy in school. Where’s Dad?

She looks surprised.

MISS BONDZIE

Oh, he didn’t inform you, did he?

BOAT

Inform me of what, exactly?

MISS BONDZIE

He had to rush to Canada last night. Something urgent came up with one of his business deals.

Boat feels a sudden overwhelming numbness which threatens to assail him, but he fights it down with all his concentration.

BOAT

When is he coming back, Miss Bondzie?

MISS BONDZIE

He said he’ll be back Monday morning, Yaw.

For a moment Boat hesitates, and a concerned look passes across her kind face.

MISS BONDZIE

(concerned)

Something wrong, Yaw?

BOAT

No, no, everything’s okay, thanks.

Boat sighs deeply and scratches the back of his neck.

Already his encounter with Pastor Paul Anderson seems like a dream … a long-forgotten bad dream. He is even beginning to feel silly, kicking himself mentally for running to his father with his tail between his legs.

Really, it all sounds like a load of trash to him now.

Being able to see demons and spirit beings which no one else can see sounds like madness. Sure, there are still some unanswered questions, but who gives a hoot?

Anderson is gone, and whatever he had brought with him is also over. The earlier he forgets about him, the better it will be for him.

Maybe the day is not all lost. He can still go to his apartment, sniff some cocaine, and have a wild night of violent sex with Mary.

He turns and opens the door.

MISS BONDZIE

(in a rush)

Oh, Yaw, I almost forgot this. This came for you yesterday.

Boat turns back into the study and sees that she is holding out a white envelope towards him.

Boat takes the letter and thanks her.

He opens the door and goes out, still examining the envelope.

His name is printed on the back, and whoever had written it had used his father’s address. As he rides up the elevator to his room upstairs, he sees that the envelope carries a Takoradi postmark.

Boat scowls darkly.

Takoradi! Hadn’t Anderson said he came from Takoradi?

Boat gives himself a little kick as he walks down the beautiful corridor toward his room. He knows he is simply being paranoid now, seeing ghosts and demons in every crevice.

Sure, this is the first letter I can recall ever receiving from Takoradi. In a world where technology has almost taken over all forms of communication, who has bothered to write a letter to him?

But that doesn’t mean he can’t receive a letter from that location.

BOAT

(savagel)

Go to hell, Anderson. I’m not reading this sh*t!

He throws his door open and enters the room.

It is clean, as always. The new housekeeper had been at work. Boat drops onto the huge bed and hooks a leg around the bedside table on which there is a telephone.

Out of curiosity however he tears the envelope open.

There is a single typed sheet inside, and he pulls it out, glancing at the signature at the bottom of the last sentence instinctively.

And then Boat freezes!

The tension creeps up his body like a sinuous predator, and hooks him around the throat, squeezing so tightly that for a moment he can barely breathe.

There is a spherical stamp mark at the bottom of the letter, and below the dotted line is the ugliest name Boat has ever seen:

Paul Anderson!

With a muffled curse he leans over and pulls out the little drawer on the bedside table, looking for the gold-plated lighter he always keeps there, a gift from a middle-aged widow from Saudi Arabia whom he had known quite briefly but rewardingly.

Boat picks the lighter and strikes it over and over, but the flame does not light.

He tries again and again. He shakes it and hears the bubbling gas inside, but it just simply will not light.

He sighs heavily.

He really needs that fire to burn the letter so much because there is no way in hell that he is going to read it!

But the lighter is faulty. That leaves only one option: tear up the damn letter!

Boat holds the letter sideways, his hands gripping it hard, and then he begins to tear it up!

Almost…

His eyes, of their own accord, are naturally scanning the first lines of the letter even as his hands tear the letter fractionally through its right margin.

His hands stop, and his breath catches sharply in his throat as the first sentence of the letter sears through him, making him go numb.

Boat’s hands tremble as he slowly brings the letter down, and turns it round, the words seeming to leap out of the sheet, impaling themselves on his eyes, and drilling their way into his brain.

His heart thuds frantically, and the panic is complete.

BOAT

(horrified)

You bas***d! You mad, raving bas***d!

Boat, visibly shaking, begins from the top and starts to read.

Hello Mr. Yaw Boat,

I have successfully found you on the Highway, and we have had a talk. I can just imagine your mounting horror, and believe me, I am dying inside for what is happening to you. I wish there are more ways I could be of help, but alas, there aren’t.

Put that lighter down, please, because you don’t have to burn this letter. Just read it.

I want you to know one simple fact: Time has run out for you!

Even as you read this, a demon of old is ready to take over your body and your soul. Believe me, son, it is true.

What is also true is that you can always beat them. Remember that! It is your only weapon, and it is your right to say no.

You are going to receive this wonderful and powerful gift which we talked about earlier: the Second Sight. Jehovah God is giving it to you. Like I said, God doesn’t take your right of choice but he makes a strong case of conviction.

So at midnight today, you’re going to receive the gift of the Second Sight. In other words, you’re going to become one of the Unblinds.

I shall be glad if you will read 2nd Kings 6: 14-17 now before you continue reading this letter.

On the stroke of midnight this very day your eyes WILL open, and your life, as you know it, will never be the same again.

You have a choice, son. Not many people manipulated by the forces of evil have had such choices, so think through this very carefully! Only you can make the final choice!

The power of the Unblinds will alienate you, and give you some frantic moments. From now on, son, you can’t trust anybody. Evil is all around you, and because you’ve been chosen by them, believe me, those terrible forces will not let you go that easily!

The Second Sight will NOT give you the full powers of an Unblind. You can see the evil, but you can’t have any dominion over them. The truth is that the gift can’t protect you. It will even render you more vulnerable. It is being given to you, however, so that you will see what has been hidden from you, and millions of others. Hopefully this gift will help you to make the right choices.

Contact Pastor Geoffrey King at the Christ Redeemed Family Church, Fairview Avenue. He’s the Head Pastor there, and he has been instructed to bring you to me, that is, if you make the right choice.

If you choose them, then all this will be meaningless, and I will come after the demon in you, and either set you free, or you shall die in the process.

I wish you well.

Paul Anderson.

Post Scrip: Now you can use the lighter.

Sweat pours off Boat’s face, and he trembles.

His throat is dry, and he can barely breathe.

He sits there on the bed in some kind of fascinated stupor.

He looks at the gold-plated lighter in his hand, and then he cranks it.

And the fire shoots up brightly from it!

Yaw Boat sits quite still as he stares at the flames of the light. He releases it, and the flame go out. He cranks it, and the fire spurts to life.

For about a minute he just sits and does that.

Lighter on, lighter off, lighter on, lighter off…

And then he sighs miserably.

BOAT (CONT’D)

(horrified)

bas***d!

To be continued…

©Aaron Ansah – Agyeman

All Rights Reserved.

 

ALL EPISODES OF THE SECOND SIGHT


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