Sex with a Ghost 1&2

"Uncle Philip and the strange lady with a gap tooth. Aunt Uka and Khalid, the Gateman. What a mess; this family is truly a lost course. What is wrong with everyone in this house? Why are they busy having sex with the wrong people? No wonder their marriage is in shambles. That's why her husband is cheating on her. Why would she be having sex with Khalid, an ordinary gateman? How can both people in a marriage be cheating on each other? This can't be ordinary, there has to be a force behind this." I concluded within.

"Uncle Alex!" Nono's shout jarred me back to reality.

"Jesus!" I uttered aloud, jumping in surprise. With no time to think or come up with a new plan, speedily, I raced passed her heading down the stairs to the gate.

"Mummy! Mummy! Come and see Uncle Alex!" she declared in a very loud voice.

At the gate, I heard my Aunt screaming from behind "Alex! Come back here!"

I didn't turn back either did I stopped to catch a glimpse of her angry face. Outside, the motorcyclist wasn't where I asked him to park. I stopped, panicking and afraid I looked around in search for him.

"Oga! See me here!" he called out from across the road, waving. With my mind on what was coming behind me, I forgot to check the road before stepping in.

All I heard were brakes screeching and people shrieking. I didn't see the car coming but sensed it. So, I managed to turn and jumped, trying to use my ass as a kind of cushion to take the force of impact. The force threw me up and I fell backwards onto the ground, hitting my head against the smooth tarmac.

Everything stood still and the world became totally silent. I felt my breath slowly dying out. I felt warm blood running down my forehead to the road. My lungs were on fire like they were going to explode. It became dark around the corners of my vision until the darkness was all I saw.

In split seconds, I was standing over my body. Still trying to comprehend what just happened, the strange black man from the previous night reappeared. This time, wearing a broad smile, with both hands outstretched, he declared.

"Here we are again"

"What is happening?" I countered, confused.

"You are dead," he said between smiles.

"Dead?"

"Yes, and you are on the broad way to hell but all that can change if you take my hand". He stretched out his glowing hand for a handshake.

Aware that I was at a crossroad and presented with just one option – take the hand and return back to life or reject it and continue to hell. I accepted the one time offer to return to earth by taking the hand of the stranger.

Easily, I opened my eyes to be greeted by the harsh smell of drugs. I had a dismal view of a lemon green coloured room with a navy blue door. Turned my head to the opposite direction, an old TV set hung on the wall. Just below the TV was a window that provided me with a view of the world. In the corner were two chairs, frayed with wear and tear. On one of the seat was Pastor Vivian giving her feet a rest, resting her head against the chair handle.

"Oh God I hate hospitals", I groaned. "But what am I doing here?" I quizzed.

"Pastor … Vivian" I protested in a stammer.

"How are you doing?" she cross-examined in a low voice as her hand fell on my forehead.

"What am I doing in a hospital?" I queried looking at her shyly and helpless.

"You were involved in a hit and run. The motorcyclist that brought to your Aunt's house carried you to the hospital and came back to the church to inform us".

"Accident?" I paused, trying to recall the incident but failed. "I don't remember been knocked down by a car" I growled.

"What do you remember then?"

"I remember hitting the ground, blood running down my head, blackness clouding my vision but not the cause, and then I was standing over my dead body. A black man in white shining apparel came and told me I was heading for total condemnation. He offered me a second chance to return here if only I agreed to take his hand. I did and found myself in this bed".

"Glory!" she roared in excitement. "May the name of the Lord be praised!"

"Amen," I exhaled.

"You see, there is nothing that the Lord cannot do. I have told you this over and over again" she baulked and waved to the heavens speaking in tongues. Done, she continued

"When the motorcyclist brought me here to see you, you were already dead. The doctor confirmed you dead. They said you heard a brain injury. But I refused to believe that. In that bus on our way to Lagos, the Lord revealed to me that you have a calling. He had chosen you to bring people to his fold. The lord won't allow such a person to die such a meaningless death. I prayed, asking Him to bring you back. I guess he answered me"

"What does that mean?" I demanded.

"That man you met is Jesus and He offered you a chance to be a Sheppard." She fields the question with a delightful smile on her lips.

"A Shep-pard?" I was lost for words, not able to think or believe.

"Yes, a man of the cloth…" she gave me a charming smile that sparkled and ignited a holy fire in me. Then she ran out excitedly out to announce the good news to the doctors and nurses that once declared me dead.

With her out, I imagined myself standing in front of a church, declaring in a very loud voice, "Praise the Lord!" The audience gave me a stare of disgust like something was wrong with my voice or face.

"This man of the cloth thing won't be easy" I snorted a tiny laugh doubting myself.