Good morning, Jesus, good morning, Lord, I know you come from heaven above, The Holy Spirit is on the throne,
Good morning, Jesus, good morning, Lord.
Chuks frowned as he walked past the church. In his own church— both the one he had grown up attending and the one he now went to —this was supposed to be a slow song, accompanied by clapping hands and maybe cymbals for more melody, but maybe this church didn’t get the memo, because they had used all their instruments plus their amplifier to turn it into a rock and roll song. Who does that?
They had been there before he went to church, but he had gone and come back, done the laundry and seen Segun off to his house, and they were still at it. Didn’t they ever get tired of making noise? He looked over the low fence and saw the overflow crowd outside the church. So they didn’t.
This church isbtwo houses from his was the cause of most of his headaches. Chuks rarely even bothered to check the name, and each time he did, he forgot. His neighbourhood had breathed a sigh of relief when the new law was passed that authorized Lagos residents to sue churches causing a racket like this one, but that was over a year ago and everybody had sat back waiting for the other house to press charges, so, of course, no one had lifted a finger to get the suing mechanism in motion, and they had just continued living with the noise.
He heaved a sigh of relief when he was far enough from the church to hear himself think again. Sunday was always a slow day. Just dress up, go to church, come back, and it was up to you to figure out how to spend the rest of the day. For Chuks, that meant no Star Ranges to get to, and after the stress of yesterday and the day before that, he was more than grateful.
Even rush-rush Ikeja traffic dey slow. This his street that motorists used to connect one major road to another was empty, so empty that people were walking in the middle of the road. Most times the noise reminded him that he was living in Lagos, but just now, he was grateful for its absence.
Segun had left to his place after Church just this morning, after spending two nights at his house. Chuks had come back from Victoria Island yesterday to meet the guy at home, and in good spirits too, after his date with Belinda. He had taken the girl to the Chinese restaurant where they had lunch just last week with Clyde dé Crozon, and had also come very close to kissing her as well, to hear him tell it.
Honestly, Segun was a cool guy, a real smooth operator. How he had gotten from just staring at this girl in class to taking her out and nearly kissing her this quickly was impressive. But, well, it had taken him six whole months to do it, now that Chuks came to think of it.Visit www.pobsonline.com for more amazing stories
The real important thing was that Segun remembered to bring back something. Chinese takeout, and a plate of ice-cream. His dinner for yesterday.
And he had given Segun the full gist of all the investigation he had done with Kunle and Mr dé Crozon, every little thing from the house to Primeview Hotel’s CCTV-monitoring office. And when he reached the part of the bullet that killed the woman causing a scratch on the wall, his friend’s reaction had convinced Chuks that he hadn’t been mistaken.
“But that can’t be possible, now.”
It wasn’t possible. Anyone who took classes at Star Ranges at their level was supposed to know that, in Chuks’ opinion. But the truth was, it had happened, impossible or not. And Chuks had a good idea how it could be possible. Verifying that idea was why he was on the road again, instead of resting at home before Monday came.
And that verification rested with his class instructor.