The Prodigal Renegade. Victor Fakunle

pissed.”

      “Where is mum?” Danny asked.

       “In the kitchen preparing dinner. I think Dad is going to kill you.”

      “The anticipation is killing me already,” Danny replied.

      Danny walked into the living room and saw the General sitting in his favorite chair facing the doorway. He immediately prostrated and said, “Good afternoon sir.” The General was reading the newspapers and did not acknowledge his presence. Danny vanished into his bedroom, anticipating what was to come. He had seen this scenario play out before. The atmosphere was tense. Danny wondered if he would have the opportunity to choose his punishment.

      A couple of weeks before, the General had called from his military post in Minna to speak to him. The phone rang, and Christy ran to pick it up before anyone else. She was Danny’s baby sister and the General’s favorite. She was born on the same day as he was and couldn’t do any wrong. She chuckled constantly as the conversation went on, and finally she yelled, “Danny, Daddy wants to speak to you.” For Danny, that was code for “Man, I’m in trouble.” Hesitantly, he picked up the receiver and the General said, “Your mum told me you have been messing around with girls in the neighborhood and not studying for your exams. This is the second time you’ve failed your exams to graduate high school. I’m just giving you a heads-up. When I get home, I’m going to deal severely with you. Do you understand me?”

      “Yes, I do sir,” he replied. His father hung up. Danny was the first son and it was expected that he become either a doctor or an engineer. However, he did not share these interests with his parents. He hated science but loved business and entrepreneurial ventures.

      Two weeks earlier, Evelyn had been in Danny’s room looking through his wardrobe. She felt a bulge in his coat pocket and found 5000 naira in newly minted notes. Evelyn was at a loss for words. It would take her three months to earn that much.

      “Grace, Grace,” she screamed as she ran to the flat next door. Grace was Evelyn’s neighbor. She had a knack for being in everybody’s business. Despite this, she was Evelyn’s friend and remarkably convenient.

      Grace came out of her flat and asked, “What is the matter?”

      “Look what I found in Danny’s room. What’s a fifteen-year-old boy doing with 5000 Naira?”

      Grace was not surprised. She had tried to tell Evelyn that Danny was hanging out with some shady characters known for trading mercury on the black market. The kids splurged on parties in night clubs, bought jewelry and hired limousines. She had not had the courage to tell Evelyn.

      “I don’t know, but I think its time you told his dad before things get out of hand”.

      While Danny was deep in thought, Uncle Boss came into the room, looking perplexed and helpless. He had been designated by the General to choose the tools for the execution. Uncle Boss was Danny’s first cousin, the son of his mum’s sister. He had come to live with them from the North to further his education. Evelyn was his guardian and sponsor. He was the elder brother Danny never had.

      “Dad is calling you!” said Uncle Boss.

      As Danny walked into the living room, he could see collection of whips had been assembled on the dinning table, arranged by size. Danny could feel his heartbeat increasing and sweat running down his neckline.

      “Sir, you requested for me?”. Acting ignorant was the only play left for Danny.

      “Where were you?”

      “I was in the bedroom, sir.” I guess two can play this game of ignorance, Danny thought.

      “Kneel down over there, raise your hands and close your eyes,” the General said.

      Danny followed orders without asking questions, just as the General expected from soldiers in his barracks.

      Twenty minutes passed. There was no sound, except the television blasting out the voices of the NTA news anchor. The news broadcast was the most boring show on the planet, Danny thought. He liked to joke that if he grew up to work for the intelligence agency, he would make criminals listen to the news to get a guaranteed confession. Danny opened his right eye to take a peek. He suddenly felt a jolt on his thigh, hands and butt in very quick succession. The General was swift, and Danny held his hands to take a breath. This was the first time the General has enlisted his fist to guarantee a knockout. Now he knew what Ali had felt after couple of brutal punches from Joe Frazier, he thought.

      Uncle Boss walked by and whispered, “You better run!” and to Danny’s amazement, he heeded that advice. He jumped up and ran out into the streets without his shoes. Danny ran for miles through the estate, not giving a thought to the girls. He ran all the way to Chief’s house and crashed into his living room.

      After a glass of water, Danny explained to Chief what had transpired. Chief was not surprised. He had been bailing Danny out of trouble for a long time. Chief Ladi had been friends with the General since high school. He was a veteran public servant with the Nigerian Civil Service, just like Evelyn. He had studied in the United States for a while. Chief instructed Danny to wait at his residence, while he paid a visit to his dad to negotiate an end to the onslaught.

      Danny was confident of Chief’s diplomatic skills, especially when it was concerning his dad. The General had always had a soft spot for him and would grant him an audience no matter the situation. An hour later, Chief came home.

      “I spoke to your dad and all is well. You can go back home. Just make sure to stay out of trouble.”

      “Sir, I don’t want to go home, it’s a trick,“ Danny said.

      After much persuasion, he decided to go back home. Fortunately, he was not injured, except some minor friction burns on his feet. He tip-toed into his room and slept off with his right eye opened.

      Chapter 3

      DANNY WOKE UP IN THE MORNING, WONDERING IF THERE WOULD BE A SECOND BOUT of whipping. He contemplated a guarantee of his demise at the hands of the General by running through the glass door in the living room and hoping for death. He knew Evelyn would not have the grace to forgive him despite her Christian values. Uncle Boss walked into the room. Now, he was really irritated.

      “Dad is calling you.” As he walked into the living room, Danny could hear Evelyn crying uncontrollably in his parent’s bedroom. The General was reading his newspaper with his usual poise, as if nothing had transpired the day before.

      “Did you call for me, sir?”

      “Yes, I did, he replied.” Get your bags packed. You are moving out of this house to stay with your Uncle Jide.”

      That was unexpected. He still had to consider if suicide was still a better option.

      Uncle Jide was the General’s first cousin. A shrewd educator and a disciplinarian with a no-nonsense attitude. He lived at Fola-Agoro, a middle-class suburb on the outskirts of the slum of Bariga, on the east side of Lagos. Danny and his parents had visited Uncle Jide and his family often. A nostalgic feeling of boredom and uncertainty came over him. They had an old black & white television with an external antenna that reminded him of the Flintstones. The living room had lots of books on the shelves. This was not Danny’s ideal escape, but it beats another bout with the General.

      Danny and Evelyn arrived at Uncle Jide’s flat later in the evening. Evelyn was still sobbing. Danny had always hated seeing his mum cry. He felt a heavy burden of guilt and wished she was not there with him. Outside the flat was a sea of candles used by traders on the streets. The whole neighborhood was in darkness. This was not a surprise to Danny. The Nigerian Electric Power Authority was notorious in this regard. The lack of electricity for up to twenty hours a day was a common phenomenon, despite its officials harassing its customers for payment.

      Aunt Kemi opened the door, knelt briefly and stood to embrace Evelyn. She was tall, beautiful and elegant, and the reason Danny had been able to endure his visits there. It was obvious that Uncle Jide was not home; it was hard