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CHAPTER ONE
TROUBLE BEGINS

CHAPTER TWO
REMINISCING

CHAPTER THREE
INITIATED

CHAPTER FOUR
THE SEVENTH QUESTION

CHAPTER FIVE
THE PROFESSOR’S RETRIBUTION

CHAPTER SIX
RECEPTION BY DECEPTION

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE PROFESSOR’S AWARD

CHAPTER EIGHT
WINKIE

CHAPTER NINE
JEFF VERSUS CHEUNG

CHAPTER TEN
HARRISON BURTON

CHAPTER ELEVEN
HENRY MET GRANDWALA

CHAPTER TWELVE
STARVING IN GYRUS

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HARRISON VERSUS KIM

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HALLOWEEN GHOST

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JOURNEY TO SELEMIS

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JOURNEY TO NILE RIVER

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DOUBLE FOOLS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WHERE IS KENT ROBINS?

CHAPTER NINETEEN
CRAZY TRICK

CHAPTER TWENTY
THE YOUNGER TED

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
HE WHO SLAPS LAST

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EVANGELIST ROBINSON

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TRICKING THE TRICKSTERS

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TIME TO SETTLE THE SCORE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NEW TED VERSUS OLD RAUL

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
HENRY AND LADY HEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HARRIED HARRISON

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CATCH 22

CHAPTER ONE

Trouble Begins

“I sent for you,” Professor Wilson said.

“Yes sir,” Henry replied, he had conjectured what the man would say next.

“You've got an idea why I sent for you?”

“No inkling,” he replied. He did not want to declare his guess for the fear that it could be wrong.

“Hmm! You've checked it, isn't it?”

“Yes of course.”

“Tell me something 'bout it.”

“Well I'll say it's fine, all A's,” replied Henry but with a puckered face. It seemed as though he wasn’t pleased with the scene. The man was not looking at his face, so he was not observing anything.

“Boy, you've got to work tirelessly now to maintain such great result. You've got three semesters to keep your head on the dean's list—or what d'you think?”

“I'm alright,” replied the boy.

“How would you maintenance your good performance?”
Henry lingered in his sudden muteness. He wasn't ready to say something.

“Speak to me dudes!” cried the irked man. Henry was not able to keep mute any longer, so he spoke:

“Well…I'll just keep doing it exactly as I've been doin' it— that's all.” The boy spoke tersely as usual with him anytime he wasn’t enjoying a conversation.

“How have you been doing it?”

“Studying of course!” Henry replied, “Just like anyone else.

“How many times before an exam do you study a particular subject?”
Henry became cold. He didn't like sharing the secret because of its unfavourable consequences in the past. Nobody had ever believed it.

“Talk to me,” the man persuaded. Henry wouldn't speak. He just bowed his head and stared vacantly at the floor as if expecting the response to germinate from it.

“I'm a busy man—got no time to waste, boy!” cried the gutted man, having lost patience.
Henry spoke and coughed along, the same time. The sound of his cough swallowed his speech and made it inaudible.

“I can't hear you,” said the dean. “Repeat, please.”

“Just once and I don't repeat,” Henry replied.

The dean was shocked.

“Hey, you said such to me, your dean? Telling me you can't repeat your speech? Are you out of your mind?” the man vociferated.

“You've misconstrued me sir. I only said that I studied each course once and never have to go back to them again for revision or whatever,” he explained. The dean burst into a loud laughter; Henry's reply had sounded incredible to him. He spoke amidst the laughter, “What do you take me for—a fool?” he paused and resumed later, “Alright, and how many days do you spend on a subject— to cover it up?”

“Days? I don't spend days—only few minutes and that's all with such course for the semester,” he replied, looking embarrassingly at his dean as he thought of the repercussion of his factual statement. The man's mouth was wide agape. He soon found his voice.

“So… what you're trying to say is that you study each subject once, within an hour, and the whole thing gets stuck to your brain just like that, even till the examination days?” Henry nodded in affirmation and the dean continued, “Got a magnet in there?” The dean pointed to Henry's forehead in a highly puzzled manner. Silence followed! The boy was feeling uneasy; therefore he was willing to hasten up the conversation:

“You won't believe it, just as no one had. Sir, can I go now?” Henry asked as he rose up.

“You ain't walking outta here except you tell me the truth, so please have your seat,” the man said ushering Henry back to the rocking chair he was once sitting on. The boy sank into it again.

“Now listen young man, you needn't tell lies to someone like me—” he paused abruptly to swallow his spittle. “Long years' experiences can tell if you are lying or not. I've been to many universities around the globe, both as student and as lecturer. I studied gynecology in Germany, Mathematics in Mauritius, History in India—even here in the US, California precisely, I studied Physics.” He sighed and resumed few seconds later.

“I read six courses all through it, came out with distinctions in all, but yet not seen anyone with a magnetic brain. Now stop the joke and tell me something factual for God's sake,” he shouted and banged the table concurrently in annoyance. Henry was gripped with nervousness. He kept mute in apprehension. “What am I going to say?” he thought.

“Ain't you going to say something?”

“I've said it already sir.”

“Stop kidding dude, you're lying to me?”

“It's the truth sir.”

“You lie,” whispered the man in a voice almost out of earshot.

“It's the truth sir.”

“I said you lie,” the man bawled.

“I'm not sir. I—” he was interrupted. “Then I lie!” the dean voiced out.

“You don't,” said Henry immediately.

“Then I'm right I said you lie!” shouted the dean.

“No sir,” he maintained.

“If I'm not lying and you're not lying too, then who is?”
Henry knew what the man was trying to drive at. He was speechless.

“Gerrout now dude! Can't bear liars—I hate them.”

“So do I,” Henry professed apprehensively.

“You do?”
Henry replied quickly, “Yes I do.”

“You mean you do?” the professor pestered him.

“Of course yes!”

“Then you should hate yourself—you can leave now,” he said with fury, eyes red in anger, just like those of a sot who had not recovered yet
from inebriation. It was a usual thing for the man to lose his temper. Even over trivial issues, he would go about shouting very loud. But the dean was not the kind of person one would think he was, in term of his oft choleric display. He was a cool-headed fellow, though sometimes his temper, if tampered with, could go out of hand.
The Professor had lost his housewife Lily to divorce and was now left with a mistress called Rose. It happened just two weeks back. A professor of his caliber needn't worry his head over a lady, he had once thought. “I've got tons of them asking me out.”
The man was forty-four but he looked much older than his age. When asked why, he explained that his days on earth had been occupied with serious studies, which had made him appear older than his age.

“You should rather hate yourself,” he concluded. “Now leave!”
Henry lingered, trying to make a protest:

“I—I'm telling…”
The dean cut him short:

“I'm a Professor of physics; do you know what that means?” he boasted.

“Yes I think I know,” Henry replied.

“What's it?” the dean asked, looking at his student's eyes.

“Your brain is as developed as that of Albert Einstein,” Henry said.

“Far more developed,” added the dean, “Einstein lived in the past but I live in the present when technology is at its peak. I'm far more civilized—got more formulae than him because millions of theories emerged even after his existence and I've got them all in here,” he prided himself on, clicking his skull, unaware of the flashes of light probably having their source from something somewhere outside the office. Henry noticed the flickers but did not afford his brain enough time to guess what they were, though it had registered into his sub consciousness.

“Young dude, inside here dwell six disciplines, hot and intact,” the dean spoke on, still clicking his skull with the index finger of his right hand, but in a more intense manner now, “You try discussing gynecology I'm with you, or you want to tell histories, I'll sure beat you to it. Astronomy, Psychology, all's intact here Henry,” he bragged incessantly, pacing about in the office. On resuming he said, “D'you know my point? All through these acquisitions, I studied very hard, spending time…and time…and time…”

“Time times time, isn't it?” intruded Henry tersely, trying to hasten him up with the wit he had just employed. The man got the message; Henry had just summarized his monotonous words mathematically. He was always at his best at that—sometimes with the aid of mnemonic.
Henry was staring at the man now, realizing what he had just done. The dean was not angry at all.

“Hmm! This boy, you're good at manipulating words,” said the dean. He had been impressed by Henry's sound ability. “Just keep it up—uh!”
Henry was trying each moment to avoid eye contacts with the dean. When he could not, he lowered his head slightly and stared blankly at the floor, eyes absentminded but ears at alert, expecting to hear the man speak again.

“Young chap—I got everything I got by hardwork. Are you trying to say that one can achieve success without thorough studies? It's a blatant lie!”

“Well,” spoke Henry, “It depends on your personal definition of working hard; I define mine as doing what you know best to give you success.” Henry smiled. He thought the man wouldn’t be able to beat that. He was shocked when the professor looked critically at him and laughed. He said, “Then it means those who cheat in exams are hardworking, aren't they?”

“I—I…” Henry stammered. He could not back up his argument. He gave up eventually.

“Speak let me hear,” the man laughed quizzically at him.

“I've got nothing to say,” he confessed, yet in his mind he had a lot of confusions stumbling upon one another. They were the feelings of anger, wrath, indignation and bitterness.

“It means your definition is wrong, Henry. You can leave now.” The dean gnawed his fingernails. He was waiting patiently for Henry's departure but it never went that way.

“I said leave, since you insist on lying and I hate liars.”

“So do I,” said Henry with no trace of humor in his tone, “Sir why not put me to test and see what I'm talking 'bout?” The man expressed elation over his statement. He felt that he should give it a trial immediately.

“Uh—test you isn't it? Oops! That sounds sensible to me!” he exclaimed, directing his swivel chair swiftly toward the shelf. He rose up immediately from it, scrambling his hands through the top of the shelf in search of something. In a short moment, he had gotten a handful of books.

“Henry, I'm going to test you as you've said. Here are books, different in sizes, shapes and contents—styles—of different disciplines and publishers; Gynecology, Mathematics, Psychology—”

“Library of literatures,” Henry interrupted.
You are at it again Henry, trying to summarize it up, huh,” said the dean as he kept on with the selection. “Yes I found it!” he howled almost immediately. Presenting a book to the boy, he said, “Have it.” He made a loud sigh when Henry received it.

“It took me six good days to master what's in it,” confessed the dean in a genuine manner. “So—you want to prove to me that you can study it once and master all that's in it, innit?” asked the man once more, to be sure of what he thought he had earlier heard from the boy.

“Yeah,” replied Henry, already perusing the front page.

“Just read only the first chapter—” instructed the dean, “for time factor,” he added. Henry read silently to his own hearing alone. In five minutes he was through with the wordy chapter, and he raised his head to indicate that he was done with it.

“So quick!” the man yelled, “Close it.” Henry obeyed, handing it over to him after he had closed it.

“It's going to be great shock for me—” he drew in breath, “if you're able to answer these questions I'm 'bout asking you from it correctly.” He began to ask him various questions, which Henry was warding off in a succinct manner. Being enormously startled by Henry's level of adroitness, the man screamed:

“How come? I'm quite sure you've never in your life studied gynecology—how come you could supply the answers as precise as they are in the book?”

“That's what I'm talking about,” whispered Henry in a shy manner, apprehensively waiting to hear him speak. The man lowered his gaze again to fix it at the book, then he persisted in asking the questions until he was satisfied (when Henry got one of them wrong) that he had achieved his aims.

“Henry d'you know what?”

“What?” he asked, slightly nervous.

“You're a genius!” commented the man, looking rapturously at him—amazed and horrified.
Henry said, “Genius? Even after getting a question wrong?”

“Hey, don't be fooled young man. The one you missed was not related to gynecology at all—not in the book, let alone the chapter you've just read,” divulged the man, chuckling silently. Henry smiled and said ‘No wonder’ in his mind.

The dean had asked Henry the question he got wrong so as to prevent him from getting all. It was his usual practice to do such a thing whenever he was to put questions forward. No one had ever scored a hundred percent in his courses, because of the 'out-of-syllabus' questions he was wont to including in them.

“You belong to the genus of geniuses!” the dean exclaimed.
Henry replied, “Sir, you don't mean it!”

“I'm serious! I am called Wilson G for a specific reason—can you guess what that G signifies?”

“Don't know,” Henry replied. He did not want to be roped in a fresh discussion. He was yearning to get out of his office, at least to feel the natural ambience outside there once again. The man persuaded Henry to say something but he made it clear that he was not good at guessing.

“C'mon, try a guess.”
Henry nodded in disapproval.

“Okay, just say whatever you like.”

“Goat—it stands for goat,” said Henry.

“Keep shut!” cried the dean. “What d'you take me for? I ain’t Goat!”

“I'm sorry, that's what I like. You asked me to say whatever I like.”

“I mean sensible thing!”

“I like goat, that's why,” Henry said politely.

“You like goat?” the dean was puzzled.

“Yes sir. Why do you ask?”

The man kept silent, looking at Henry as if he was a weirdo.

“Then you must be stubborn—” deduced the man and coughed, “like a goat.”

“Maybe—If you say so.”
The dean rose to his feet and said, “Henry I've got a lot of seminars to deliver within two weeks, on Physics, Gynecology, Astronomy—I've got to get prepared for them all.” He faced Henry squarely and said, “That G I'm talking about stands for Genius—you know what?”

“No sir,” said Henry, slightly waving his hands to show that he did not know 'what was what'.

“I'm transferring that G to you right away because you're genuinely a genius.” The man was serious about it. Henry took his words for flattery.

“You don’t mean it, I know,” said Henry.

“Why should I flatter you Henry? Hear me, I can see in you the mark of a genius—as from now you ain’t Henry White anymore, but Henry G— accepted?”

“Provided that G of yours stands for goat,” Henry replied while the man was still speaking. Now it dawned on the man that he was only dealing with an obstinate fellow.

“Don't make fun of the whole thing,” the dean said exasperatedly.
Factually, Henry was not trying to be funny; he had developed predilections for goats since the time he had read the history of Alexander the Great. While reading in those days, he came to know the insignia of Alexander’s power—Goat horn! Thus Henry’s love for goats was developed.
Finally, the professor cleared his phlegmy throat as he was set to say something.

“Henry G—” he called him, “I’ve asked you to come here for a purpose—your result. You’re the best overall in your set, with a single B and the rest A’s so far…You know what?” said the man impatiently, not waiting for a response as he continued, “You’re not alone in this race. You’ve got a rival.” Henry’s countenance changed instantly to a resentful one.

“He’s in the Petroleum Engineering—currently, his CGPA tallies with yours.” Henry was not going to let anyone beat him to it, so he queried gravely, “Professor who’s he? I mean what’s his name?”

“Name?” asked the dean as if traumatized, “Don’t know,” the man lied. “I sent for him just two days ago—told him what I’m about to tell you now.”

"What’s that?” said Henry showing great concern momentarily.

“Well… It’s nothing,” the dean said and paused, not knowing exactly the best way to present it. “Just this—how will it be if a man like me and you can be so much endowed with knowledge to the extent of knowing what’s going to happen in the future?”

“Future?” said Henry in an impervious approach. “I think that’s no new thing. Doctors can predict the aftermath of some diseases and—” he paused to cough, “periods of childbirth. Meteorologists can tell the weather—psychologists—they read the mind…”

“Hold it!” cried the man uneasily. “Not talking about that here, something else. Henry, I mean the power of the universe, to monitor people and things without the satellite—controlling whosoever’s life you wish; lots more.” It sounded complex to the boy.

“I—I don’t seem to understand!” he exclaimed.

“Okay—take for instance someone’s going to gun you down, but you’ve seen that couple of hours ago, before the act was going to be perpetrated, are you still going to die?” said the dean, stressing his last phrase more than the rest in the complex sentence he had uttered, perhaps to serve as a mean to some ends.

“Not at all sir!” Henry replied at once, “I’ll rather prevent it—if I can.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” the dean deduced, smiling affectionately, “A genius like you with this power I’m telling you about will definitely be invincible in all walks of life.”
Henry yawned—then he spoke:

“Sure?”

“Definitely! That guy isn’t going to be match f’you, because you’ll become an extraordinary genius…after getting the power.”

“Is he a genius too?” asked Henry in a very inquisitive attitude, in a way not usual with him.

“Yeah—,” he replied, then smiled as he added “but not a wise one” shaking his head in a manner that was suggesting that the chap he was talking about was not wise enough for him to have rejected his offer.

“But why?” Henry wanted to know.

“He’s never wanting this power I’ve just told you of. I told him about it, but the fool rebuffed sharply, telling me he wasn’t interested in getting any power.” Henry had deduced something from the man’s assertion just now. If he should reject the offer before him now, he was sure that the dean would talk ill of him to another too. However, Henry never made his fear conspicuous, rather he asked “Why?” and got a reply through the man’s body language—a shrug of the shoulder, meaning that he did not know why the said genius had rejected the offer. Silence followed but the dean turned it around so soon:

“Over to you Henry—” he said and sniffed, “d’you need this power? It’ll help you,” the man enticed, leaving Henry in a state of vacillation.

“Power,” recapitulated Henry in an almost inaudible voice, clicking the table with the longest finger on his right hand.
“Yeah power,” replied the dean, maintaining the tempo, “That guy isn’t going to be match for you.”
A long silence descended into the office as Henry fell into a serious reminiscence…

Story continuation


CHAPTER TWO
Reminiscing

He saw Ted on the court busy with a game. Although Ted was sweating profusely under the hot sun, yet it seemed he was not going to give up on the demanding task he was performing all alone by himself. When Ted lifted his head and saw his friend walking towards him, he smiled as he waited for him.

“Ted, hope you are not going to spend the whole time here playing games.”

“And you… over there—” replied Ted pointing toward the school library where his friend had just exited, “studying.”
Henry would have him corrected, so he said, “No… reading novels.”

“Hmm,” grumbled Ted in disbelief, “I know that’s what you’ll say—always reading novels and scoring millions of A’s, isn’t it?” Henry ignored him, attempting to digress.

“Ted have you seen her—today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “She just left the basketball court now, I think with Pete,” said Ted in a way that would upset his friend. Ted never wanted Henry to go after that Chinese girl, Cynthia, but Henry was not ready to give up. He had wanted her by all means, but she had never looked to his side once, preferring Pete instead, because he was a sport person, being one of the key players in the school basketball team.

“I’ll go after her,” said Henry as he made to leave Ted on the spot.

“No, don’t go,” responded Ted, trying to debar him from such action, “I believe she did spot you coming here, that was why she took her leave.”

“Oh! Ted you should have obstructed her for me,” Henry blamed Ted in earnest.

“Not me,” said Ted sharply. “You want me get into Pete’s trouble—men!” he said looking critically into his friend’s eyes as if he was scared of Pete, since there had always been something to fear about the said Pete, whose mouth was his weapon. Aside being very good in the basketball game, another thing Pete could do so well was calumniation. “And I didn’t even know on time that you were out of the library already. Let’s go.” Ted jerked Henry’s arm, trying to pull him along, but he forced himself out of his grip.

“Leave me alone,” Henry replied. “I’m getting her at all cost,” he said leaving Ted in a hurry.

“Henry, don’t go nowhere, I’ve got something for you,” shouted Ted.

“Later,” replied Henry without looking back at him. He doubled his paces instead, looking ahead like someone trying to avoid becoming a ‘pillar of salt’.

Henry had never liked any girl all his life except her, but she had never reciprocated his love. Henry was not going to have a girlfriend if not her, but she was not going to reciprocate his affection. She was a first year student of the University—almost like the cynosure of all eyes, nubile and graceful, appearing more beautiful whenever her dimples had had the cause to come out conspicuous—especially when smiling. Her hairs were elongated, trailing down her chins and always resting sequentially on her shoulders, like the manes of a horse. Though not lanky, being a bit below six feet, she had no problem with that, since her shoes did always compensate for her height—high-heeled espadrilles.
Perhaps Henry was lucky to have caught up with her while she was trying to get a cab to board. It was a Friday evening, five o’clock, so she was leaving the campus to her parents’ place that day as she was wont doing—just like many other students on campus whose abodes were stone-throw from the school.

“Hey, Cynthia!” cried Henry. She turned on her heels towards the direction of the voice, not knowing it was Henry. Getting close to her, Henry beckoned on the taxi driver to keep moving. The man was furious.

“Hey, man! Handful of plonkers! Why wave me down at first?” He skidded away extremely annoyed, leaving trails of dust behind.
Seeing it was Henry, she became gutted, though hiding the feeling. She waited for his arrival.

“Cynthia, I’m sorry I—I just felt I should see you,” he said panting.

“So…” said Cynthia, amazed, “that’s just all you want to do, uh?” she added in her usual Chinese accent as she pointed annoyingly at him.

“You’ve just cost me getting a taxi to my place—why?” she said in her usual lady-like manner, now exuding anger.

“I’m sorry,” said Henry apologetically, then she responded, “Okay, go on.”

“I just want to ask if you’ll come with me—’’ he said, paused and glared apprehensively at her, having insinuated an unpalatable response, “for dinner.”

“Dinner!” she yelled in a way that was difficult for Henry to guess what she was having in mind towards it. Henry spoke on.

“Yeah—we’re going to make use of a nice place—maybe in the New York City or—wherever you choose for it. I’m—”

“It’s okay,” she said succinctingly in impatience. “Just want to let you know I’m having a date with someone else—Pete. I believe you saw him just now, ’cos he’d hardly entered a taxi when you came around. Henry stood stupefied, words unable to flow.

“Well, see you later Henry; don’t want to get home late,” she said rushing to board a taxicab, which she’d waved down already in the course of the conversation. She waved at Henry when she got into the vehicle.

“Bye!” She said.

“Wait, Cynthia, don’t do this to me,” lamented Henry. He heard a voice behind him too, immediately.

“Wait, Henry don’t do this to me!” It sounded feminine. Henry did not want to turn back, being of the thought that it was one of those ladies who had always been asking him out—though always turning them down—particularly Susie, his departmental mate, who had never at any moment relented in her effort to get him. At this moment, Henry felt that Susie was the owner of the voice, so he did not want to turn to the direction. At last he turned but saw Ted approaching instead.

“Hey Ted, why trying to be sissy? And what have I done to you?” said Henry frustrated.

“Sissy like Susie, Isn’t it?” Ted replied humorously.

“Exactly!” Henry replied, surprised at his friend’s ability to probe into his mind.

“Just trying to mimic you Henry—what you said to Cynthia just now,” Ted winked. “What’s her response?”

“She’s going to hook up with Pete tonight—for dinner.”
Ted smiled. “Maybe you’ve got to wait for your turn, man,” he advised.

“It’s not going to come if I just fold my hands and let things go in a normal way without doing anything ’bout it,” said Henry and quickly changed the topic.

“Ted, I can remember—you said you’ve got something for me.”

“When? Can’t remember saying such,” lied Ted.

“Uh,” sounded Henry, shocked. “So quickly forgotten? When trying to catch up with her just now.”

“Oh, nothing!” exclaimed Ted, face beaming with excitement, paving way for Henry to display his lexical skill once more:

“Is nothing the something you’ve got for me?”

“I only said that to kind of prevent you from going to her, so you won’t be embarrassed,” Ted chuckled. “She’s not a genius-freak you know. She prefers sport man.”

“Like you?” Henry said suddenly.

“Ssh! I don’t like her and I’ll want you do same.”

“Impossible!” responded Henry promptly.

The two crossed the highway to get taxis to their respective homes, perhaps to go do the weekend. Ted stayed with his Uncle, who was staying single. Willis Brown, Ted’s uncle, had remained celibate since the death of his wife and only daughter in an auto crash some years back. Willis Brown adopted Ted, who was an orphan, thereafter. The man took care of him in-loco-parentis, sending him to all the schools he had attended all his lives. His uncle’s enormous care for him had made him to develop some sorts of stupendous adorations for him, always willing to be home every weekend to help him do one thing or the other, since they had got no maid to assist in the house chores. Being seldom asked who his mentor was, Ted had always said, “Willis Brown”. He had never left them with the clue that he was only talking about his uncle, since he had never discussed his family background with anyone, except Henry.

Continuation...


Henry’s case was in direct contrast with that of Ted. He had living parents and a little sister, who never had a bit of respect for him. The combination of the two was typical of a ‘storm in a bottle’. Since growing to the age of accountability, the two had never for once had the same view of anything—always opposite.

Her name was Kate. Though talented in fomenting troubles, she had never always gone scot-free, yet she had never given it a thought to try co-operate with her elder brother, who had always been making sure she was punished for every slight offence she had committed. When they were much younger, Mr. and Mrs. White their parents, had never at any time been tempted to take the risk of leaving the children at home to fend for themselves when they were away, not even when they had only gone to work place, to return at noon. Instead, their parents would make sure that they were kept separately under the prying eyes of two different nannies, residing in two different parts of the city. They were always being baby-sat until they got to the age of thirteen and ten respectively, when it was deemed unfit by their parents to continue lavishing their cash unnecessarily on nannies. Those times, their parents would call them together to inculcate in them how good siblings were supposed to conduct themselves.

“You both must promise to co-operate now,” Mr. White would say then. Such speech had always been accompanied with exchange of maligning words from the children—each trying to accuse the other of being the one who had brought about all the rancor that had taken place before then. Then the brawl would begin afresh again, right in front of the helpless man who had raised the issue in the first place.

Kate had smashed bottles on Henry’s head twice as punitive measures for the pain he had inflicted on her then. Henry had bludgeoned her too, oftentimes, with one particular truncheon their father had always kept inside the storehouse. Mr. White had told them long time ago, the mystery behind the aforesaid truncheon. He had said that he seized the heavy stick from a police officer who had harassed them (himself and two others) unjustly many years ago, but his children would not believe such a lose talk, on the ground that their father wouldn’t have had the mind to do that. Mr. White had to jettison the truncheon secretly one day, fearing that his kids were going to kill each other with it someday, as long as it remained in there.
On getting to the University as a freshman, Henry at first had the problem of relating with the opposite sex, probably because of his vendetta for his blood sister who had been with him since childhood, but he never regarded such aberration as a problem at all. He took all females as his sister, thus the hatred for them.
Henry’s orientation experienced a revolutionary trend the first time he did set his eyes on Cynthia, during her first year (Henry was in his second year then). There and then, Henry had felt he was going to choose her in place of a million dollar if there was to be any cause to make a choice between the two. He had valued her invaluable and priceless.
Henry had felt, oftentimes, that he was going to strangle any male who might want to be with her. Though mindful of the fact that such a one could be Ted, yet Henry was not going to soft-pedal his vow made earlier in time. But Ted wasn’t thinking about her, not even any girl, but sport only. He was the skipper of the volleyball team, playing the striking role.
Ted was not good at all in basketball—a novice in soccer too. He had tried at different sports unsuccessfully until finally discovering his talent. It seemed Ted discovered it too late, because his leg had once been broken in the football game while trying a rough tackle at a veteran master dribbler. His teeth, two incisors, one each from the upper and lower jaw, were broken too while dabbling in the hockey game. The metamorphism in his teeth then had resulted accidentally from a blow of the hooked stick owned by an opponent. However, Ted had had those broken teeth artificially shaped up again.
Henry was good in divers sports, but had never participated in any since entering the university, so no one knew he could do them. He had always been engaging himself in the reading of books, especially storybooks. He had read most of Chase’s novels and had begun to write his own too, about himself and his sister Kate.
In lieu of sporting activities, Henry was academically inclined—always interested in winning competitions; like quizzes, debates, spelling bees—having won all these at one time or the other early in his lifetime.
Kate was the exact opposite of Henry in virtually everything—gender, skills, abilities, attributes—lots more. She had always managed to score C’s in her results, frolicking frantically whenever she had such ‘Ceeish’ results. She was not athletic too—unlike Henry. In the high school, Henry represented his house in the relay race competition. Kate was envious, so she asked if she could do the same. Her housemaster doubted her, but eventually agreed to put her to test. She was to contend with some others in the same house.
Everyone made fun of her, having known that she was a lazy bone when it comes to athletics, but she summoned courage. That fateful day, the gun was fired and everyone ran with full speed. It was a 200m race. Kate was far behind. All of a sudden, she ran so fast—like a cheetah, overtaking everyone in the race. She won eventually, with a wide gap between the runner-up and herself.
It was amazing to everyone watching how she had managed to win the race, but Henry understood everything. Kate had seen a bulldog behind her, which had maneuvered its way unto the track. Since she was allergic to bulldog, she had to run as fast as her legs could afford to avoid it, so she did and won the race.
Henry felt bad about this. He told her housemaster his observation, but the man paid no attention to him, having known Henry as Kate’s antagonist. The man, following the suggestion and resolution of Kate, never let her have any further practice, so that she would not sustain injury before the main competition.
Kate was in the White house, while Henry was in Black. Initially, the two had incidentally been put in the same house (White), but Henry begged for a change of house—hence the Black House.
At the preliminary stage of the competition, Kate contended with many other athletes from different houses. It was a relay race. Having been regarded by all as the best of the racers in her house, she was made the anchor. During the last lap of the race, Kate got the baton a long time before any of her opponents did, but kept a slow pace and was soon overhauled in a short moment by all her contenders. That hectic day, she made a fool of herself before everyone. To make things worst, Kate fell flat on her face to the floor, while already maintaining her last position behind the ‘runner-up’ from the back.
Henry’s house swept the board in that competition, winning most of the gold medals. The Black House, also represented the school in the inter-school competition and won the trophy, with Henry regarded as the most colorful participant, having single-handedly won four gold medals in the various sports he had participated in.

Kate had smashed bottles on Henry’s head twice as punitive measures for the pain he had inflicted on her then. Henry had bludgeoned her too, oftentimes, with one particular truncheon their father had always kept inside the storehouse. Mr. White had told them long time ago, the mystery behind the aforesaid truncheon. He had said that he seized the heavy stick from a police officer who had harassed them (himself and two others) unjustly many years ago, but his children would not believe such a lose talk, on the ground that their father wouldn’t have had the mind to do that. Mr. White had to jettison the truncheon secretly one day, fearing that his kids were going to kill each other with it someday, as long as it remained in there.
On getting to the University as a freshman, Henry at first had the problem of relating with the opposite sex, probably because of his vendetta for his blood sister who had been with him since childhood, but he never regarded such aberration as a problem at all. He took all females as his sister, thus the hatred for them.
Henry’s orientation experienced a revolutionary trend the first time he did set his eyes on Cynthia, during her first year (Henry was in his second year then). There and then, Henry had felt he was going to choose her in place of a million dollar if there was to be any cause to make a choice between the two. He had valued her invaluable and priceless.
Henry had felt, oftentimes, that he was going to strangle any male who might want to be with her. Though mindful of the fact that such a one could be Ted, yet Henry was not going to soft-pedal his vow made earlier in time. But Ted wasn’t thinking about her, not even any girl, but sport only. He was the skipper of the volleyball team, playing the striking role.
Ted was not good at all in basketball—a novice in soccer too. He had tried at different sports unsuccessfully until finally discovering his talent. It seemed Ted discovered it too late, because his leg had once been broken in the football game while trying a rough tackle at a veteran master dribbler. His teeth, two incisors, one each from the upper and lower jaw, were broken too while dabbling in the hockey game. The metamorphism in his teeth then had resulted accidentally from a blow of the hooked stick owned by an opponent. However, Ted had had those broken teeth artificially shaped up again.
Henry was good in divers sports, but had never participated in any since entering the university, so no one knew he could do them. He had always been engaging himself in the reading of books, especially storybooks. He had read most of Chase’s novels and had begun to write his own too, about himself and his sister Kate.
In lieu of sporting activities, Henry was academically inclined—always interested in winning competitions; like quizzes, debates, spelling bees—having won all these at one time or the other early in his lifetime.
Kate was the exact opposite of Henry in virtually everything—gender, skills, abilities, attributes—lots more. She had always managed to score C’s in her results, frolicking frantically whenever she had such ‘Ceeish’ results. She was not athletic too—unlike Henry. In the high school, Henry represented his house in the relay race competition. Kate was envious, so she asked if she could do the same. Her housemaster doubted her, but eventually agreed to put her to test. She was to contend with some others in the same house.
Everyone made fun of her, having known that she was a lazy bone when it comes to athletics, but she summoned courage. That fateful day, the gun was fired and everyone ran with full speed. It was a 200m race. Kate was far behind. All of a sudden, she ran so fast—like a cheetah, overtaking everyone in the race. She won eventually, with a wide gap between the runner-up and herself.
It was amazing to everyone watching how she had managed to win the race, but Henry understood everything. Kate had seen a bulldog behind her, which had maneuvered its way unto the track. Since she was allergic to bulldog, she had to run as fast as her legs could afford to avoid it, so she did and won the race.
Henry felt bad about this. He told her housemaster his observation, but the man paid no attention to him, having known Henry as Kate’s antagonist. The man, following the suggestion and resolution of Kate, never let her have any further practice, so that she would not sustain injury before the main competition.
Kate was in the White house, while Henry was in Black. Initially, the two had incidentally been put in the same house (White), but Henry begged for a change of house—hence the Black House.
At the preliminary stage of the competition, Kate contended with many other athletes from different houses. It was a relay race. Having been regarded by all as the best of the racers in her house, she was made the anchor. During the last lap of the race, Kate got the baton a long time before any of her opponents did, but kept a slow pace and was soon overhauled in a short moment by all her contenders. That hectic day, she made a fool of herself before everyone. To make things worst, Kate fell flat on her face to the floor, while already maintaining her last position behind the ‘runner-up’ from the back.
Henry’s house swept the board in that competition, winning most of the gold medals. The Black House, also represented the school in the inter-school competition and won the trophy, with Henry regarded as the most colorful participant, having single-handedly won four gold medals in the various sports he had participated in.

The fact remained that everyone born to the earth had come with a specific skill—talent—pluperfect ones for that matter, because it appeared Kate had got one too—singing. She was naturally bequeathed with a very sweet voice. Although she had discovered it early enough for her to make it a profession, her parents never wanted her to become a musician. They would prefer to see her turn medical doctor, contrary to her craving.

Mr. and Mrs. White had always argued about whom Kate had actually taken after between the two of them.

“I think Henry takes after me, but Kate takes after you,” Mr. White would say and his wife would reply, “No, Henry takes after me either, she looks more like you.” They dared not say it to her face, otherwise they had to face the risk of searching for her for the next one week.

However, Kate had overheard them twice and had promised to go get drown in the river. Those times they had to beg her for couple of hours before she became calm again. Recently Kate need not eavesdrop anymore, because she had cleverly kept a voice-recording device securely in the well-furnished and gorgeous-looking lounge, unnoticed by nobody.

Mr. and Mrs. White had phobia for magic or magic-related things. They had warned their children oftentimes never to be involved in cultism of any kind.

“Listen children, in the Higher Institutions, there are enough bad guys all over there. Please don’t you go with them when you get there. They can kill you,” Gaby, Henry’s father had warned several times before Henry eventually got into the university.

“Sure, dad, you know I always won’t have time to make friends—I prefer sleep to making friends,” Henry said.

“And you know I prefer singing to—” Kate said too and paused, looking around to see her parent’s face, having realized her mistake. They leered at her, and the expressions on their faces had forced her into modifying her half-baked words instantly.

“Ringing I mean,” she said slyly but it won’t suffice to cozen her parents.

“Ringing what?” Her mother inquired sharply.
“Em—Em—ringing bell,” She said quickly. Henry burst into laughter.

“Here you are with your white lies again,” Mr. White said. She was caught red-handed this time. “Kate I’m sure going to disown you should you turn a musician—have you heard?” the man spoke up, pointing cruelly at her face.

“Heard,” said Kate disgruntled.

Henry was born three years before Kate but they had approximately the same height, though they never heard any semblance whatsoever. Henry was moderate in size, but Kate was a little chubby. He had dimples but all she had were some defacing pimples. Her pimples were the never-to-touch type since they had always culminated into ridiculously round and bulgy boils each time she had attempted to press out the pus in them.

She had used almost all the medications meant for pimples in the US, but her pustules had proved immortal. In addition, she had suffered a lot from fraudsters concerning this same issue, getting a sealed powdery charcoal for medication. She was laughed to scorn by Henry while applying it, since it was indirectly his handiwork.

“Black American!” yelled Henry mockingly at her.

“It’s soon going to be over,” she said somberly, attempting to console herself, but never knowing what sort the medication was. It was April one then, so Henry screamed, “April fool!”
Kate, still having strong confidence in the black thing, asked sharply, “What’s the April fool for?”
Henry had to take time to explain the mystery behind the ‘black medicine’ in a finicky manner to her. He said, “That was a mixture of charcoal and chilly pepper, concocted by Cypher, my High school friend.” He paused to laugh. “Check it out!”

Kate sulked and hung her head in frustration, having realized her mistakes. She was going to start real trouble with the boy, probably taking her friends with her to fight him, but she relented, having had a second thought. However, Henry never went scot-free during that period, because he was paid in his own coin too, before the second half of that same month (April).

Some girls, discovered later to be Kate’s buddies, spitefully poured on him, from the second floor of one of the school structures, a pail of green gloss paint, while Henry was trudging away beneath.

“Green American!” they chuckled frenetically, but never went unpunished too—by their mistresses. They were all locked up in the school detentions for days.

Henry’s hair was brown but Kate’s own was black and curly. Henry was the replica of his father, but Kate looked more like the relative of the neighbor next door. The two never liked walking or talking together. Their everlasting repugnancy was epitomized in the large framed picture hung in the living room, which had always been classed an eyesore of a picture by family and friends who had come around for visits in the past. In it was Henry, standing very close to his father toward the right side of the photograph, while Kate stuck to her mother—each pair being some quite considerable distances apart. This had resulted due to the never-ending disparity between the kids, forbidding to take photographs together.
Visitors never stopped making incessant derogatory comments about the ‘family photograph’, thinking that one day Mr. and Mrs. White’s marital life would break apart and each child would go with the one he or she had held unto in the photograph.

Funny enough, Henry had made several attempts to have his surname changed to the direct opposite, Black, some years back when he was still attending the same high school with her, because she had been identified as Henry’s sister then, by the name they had in common—White.

Kate had many allies but Henry did not have more than one. His friendship with anyone had never lasted up to a school term, since he never knew how to maintain friendship, since he was a nerd, and so would never have the time to spend having fun with some friends.

During Henry’s second year on campus, being on holiday, Henry adjourned to his room to take a nap. Rolling from side to side abed, sleep eluding him, he heard a sound from the door. Henry felt Kate must have returned from school, since father and mother would not be back until evening.
“That thing’s back again,” said Henry, face squeezed as if presently perceiving a nauseating odor—probably from fresh fecal matter. Kate was then in her final year in the high school.
As Henry had presumed, Kate was the anonymous ‘door-pusher’. With her came three friends—Naomi, Jane and Belinda. Kate was not aware of his presence, so she slotted a cassette, which they had brought with them, into the Video Cassette player in the parlor—music began.
Lost in the euphoria, the quartet began to sing loudly, jumping and hopping frantically to the music.
“Kate you’ve got a melodious voice,’ said one of her friends.
“Why wont I, after such long-lasting period of voice training?”
The girls didn’t go to school that particular day, being somewhere rehearsing, though creating false impressions in the minds of their parents that they had been in school since morning.
“Hope your dad and mum have stopped disturbing you—” Belinda asked Kate inquisitively.
“About what?”
“About you not to become a musician.”
“They’re going to disown me if they hear this,” she said in a slow manner.
“Why?” asked Jane.
“They’ve got aversion for music and magic.” she responded, resuming her speech having read the demanding minds of her friends. “Don’t know why?”
“When’s our next music practice—you know we’ve got to sing for ‘Paparazzi’ club next week?” Belinda said and received an instant answer.
“Let’s make it next two days,” suggested Kate. “We’ll skip some classes.”
“It’s okay, but where should we converge?” asked one of them. Immediately after the question, the atmosphere became silent, each trying to figure out a suitable rendezvous.
Going by the look of things, it was as if Henry was the one who needed the answer most. He paid rapt attention to every sound he did hear, so he would not miss out some silently spoken salient words.
After giving the asked question a serious thought, Naomi said, “At the guest house called Rendezvous—in Jones Street.”
Henry smiled belligerently on his bed, but his smile was the ephemeral type, being terminated at the thought that he did not known where the mentioned venue was located. Henry wished sorely that someone would ask where it was and his sister did just that.
“Where’s the place?” asked Kate, raising her voice.
“Kate, don’t be silly, you know RGH don’t you?” said Jane in a harsh manner, but Kate nodded in the negative.
“Then you shouldn’t claim a citizen of the US if—”
“Hey, tell me if you want to,” retorted Kate embarrassingly. “My bro. will soon be here. I’m sensing he’s not gone far.”
As Kate said that, Henry grinned on bed, muttering words to himself.
“Foolish ones! I’m right in here.”
“Okay, Jones Street abutting Hilton—or you want to deny knowing Hilton too?” replied Jane, looking serious.
“Oh my Jees—!” Kate screamed, “I Know Hilton Street quite well. I’ve been there with my family once, shopping for Christmas—but I never knew that the lane abutting it was Jones.”
“Now you know, innit?” Naomi said. “Let’s choose a date—for the training.”
Henry cuddled up to his pillow in utmost excitement. That was his usual practice whenever he was extremely excited. He held out his ears, so he could get the last thing he would need—the date and time.
“Can we make it 2pm? We mustn’t exceed two hours—two o’clock on Monday.”
Belinda’s suggestion was unanimously agreed upon without any debate preceding it. Kate saw them off to the motor road outside the house. She waved to them, walking hurriedly back home. She was puzzled, seeing Henry right inside the living room she had just left with her friends. She developed goose pimples immediately as she moved closer to him in apprehension, already having it settled in her mind that Henry had heard every bit of the plan.
Kate asked with an edgy voice; “Henry have you heard everything?”
“Every what?” yelled Henry at him, faking ignorance.
“C’mon don’t pretend as if you’ve not heard all we said,” she added uncertainly, trying to carve a way out of the looming trouble she had insinuated. Her hope was raised when Henry yelled, “Said with whom?” She revealed a dimpleless but bland smile, which made her ugly the more, on hearing Henry’s reply.
“Since you’ve not heard, never mind,” Kate said and turned heel to leave his presence, but she became transfixed at a spot by what she heard him say at that moment.
“Don’t fool yourself around, I heard it all!”
Henry’s confession sent a gush of shocking wave down her spine and rashly she yelled, “Heard what?”
“You’ve joined a music club. You brought your friends here, turned the parlor into a disco hall. I heard your voice in the cassette—it was the worst of all,” criticized Henry, sticking out his tongue in order to frustrate her more.
“Well, you can make jest of me as you like, as long as you won’t tell mum and dad about it—it’s okay by me. Or—are you going to tell?” she asked diplomatically, heart thumping faster than normal.
“Definitely yes!” replied Henry without giving it a second thought. The statement dampened her spirit. Being enervated she said in a minuscule pitch, “You want to let dad disown me—or you’ve forgotten what he said?”
“You’re of no use in this family—Kate or caterer—or whatever you call yourself,” slandered Henry, but she managed to swallow it up and kept silent, though peeved at her brother’s insulting speech. “Your absence in this family will enhance the soaring of my pocket money,” Henry continued to dole out the insults to her.
Kate knew undoubtedly that Henry was going to tell, no matter what. She felt that she could make Henry change his mind if she could possibly entice him with what she was about to mention—money. She put her clever idea into practice at once.
“What about you having my pocket money for the next three months?”
“It’s of no use,” replied Henry obstinately.
“Okay, what about me doing the house chores alone?” said Kate seriously again, but Henry refused still. In a flash, Kate had developed another idea in her mind, which she ardently believed that Henry was not going to reject, since such had always been acceptable to every mature male she had come across. She was going to test it on Henry too, perhaps he would fall for it.
“Em—what about getting you a girlfriend?” she said and raised her head to see his reaction. “Pretty one!” she added when she saw the imperviousness in the comportment of her brother.
“Shut it! Don’t need one from you! I’ll tell, no matter how long you badger me!” Henry shouted and banged at the table as if drumming to his speech in order to make it more durable. The two looked disdainfully into each other’s eyeballs, uncouthly, like a hero a villain at the end of a movie, ready to have a mortal contest. She took courage to speak later.
“No one’s going to believe you since you’ve got no evidence,” Kate told him point-blank, laughing as she took a brisk walk to her room.

Mr. and Mrs. White soon arrived. While they were still behind the door, Henry had reported Kate’s deed to them. This he did within a minute, but his parents were able to grasp the information just as if Henry had spent an hour in relaying it. It seemed as if the ability of Mr. and Mrs. White to do that had been brought about by the fact that what Henry was explaining to them was music-related; something that would catch their interest, since they wouldn’t want to buy the idea of their children involving in it.

“Kate! Come over here!” they cried as they stepped into the large lounge that was being aerated by some air-conditioning systems that were put in place around the house long time ago. They were never allergic to cold.

“Yes, I’m coming,” she responded from her room. Kate could tell from the way her parent had shouted her name that Henry had informed them about it. She was with them a couple of minutes later.

“Why d’you flout our instruction? We said don’t join music club,” her father asked, gazing at her, expecting to hear something.

“I didn’t,” she responded without delay, face wrinkled. “Who said I did that?”

“Henry,” replied her parents immediately.

Henry’s anger was kindled against her sister for the lie she had just told. He tried to suppress the vexation by keeping silent, but the urge to speak made him burst out:

“Yes, Kate you brought your friends here and played the music you’ve recorded. Then you danced and danced and—”

“Hey—Henry you said you’ll tell lies against me and that’s what you’re doin’ right now.” cried Kate in a convincingly acceptable manner. An outsider would have believed her if one was present at such moment. “Just because we didn’t give you our candies,” she added unscrupulously.

“Liar!” cried Henry jerking forward to give her a slap on the cheek, but Mrs. White held his arms back. He wriggled unsuccessfully in her grip, but soon gave up, seeing she would not permit him to do it.

“Kate—” said Mr. White. “Candy! Where did you get it from?” Kate’s father had warned her several times against the consumption of candy, fearing tooth decay. Kate had once suffered tooth decay while still very young. Back then, she was always spending all her pocket money on candies, pilfering cash sometimes from her mother’s purse to get the goodies.

Kate appeared morose instantly when her dad asked her the question, yet she was only feigning the bad mood. With the way Kate had made her countenance to appear, her father was convinced that she had really taken some candies as she’d confessed, yet that was what Kate wanted him to believe. She never took any candy at all—such display was a mere cant, just to try diverting the reality of the matter.

“Kate, did you just say that you took candy?” Mr. White yelled at her in anger.

“I’m sorry dad—” she said deceitfully, “It was my friends who brought the candies. We—er—ate them together, Henry begged us to give him some, but we refused. Then—”

“She’s lying!” barked Henry furiously, but no one was paying a bit of attention, already engrossed in her sister’s foxy tale. She spoke on:

“He threatened to tell a lie against us about joining a music club—” she paused and looked piercingly at her father’s eyeballs, “and that’s exactly what he’s doing now,” concluded Kate slyly.
“Liar!” shouted Henry persistently, violently struggling to break loose from her mother’s grip, but the opportunity was not given to him, otherwise, Kate would be in ‘soup’.

Their parents made protracted attempts to resolve the issue, telling the two parties to forget about the issue. They assured themselves that the truth would be revealed soonest.

Kate made eyes at Henry scornfully, exacerbating Henry’s hatred for her. He felt like gunning her down instantly, damning the consequence.

“Lying Kate!” he whispered to her hearing when their parents had left the parlor. Kate replied, “Thank you.”

Monday came and Kate was set for school. Since the day the two had first hugged each other, it had become a routine for them to keep doing such, but always in the absence of their parents. Henry had eagerly been waiting for the advent of that Monday, when that apparent cordial relationship would be checked.

As it had been for three days, Kate hugged Henry once more as she was set for school that red-letter Monday morning.

“The last hug,” thought Henry, smiling benignly in an attempt to conceal his evil intention. Their parents saw them in such state for the first time and the sight staggered them. However, they controlled the urge to intrude into the matter until Kate had left for school.

“Who used the spell—” said Mr. White and paused briefly. Then he resumed, “between the two of you?”

“Which spell?” said Henry, pretending as if he never had any idea as regards what his father had just asked. His father expatiated, “I mean, when did you start to like your sister?” Henry grimaced suddenly and snapped his fingers (both the ones on his right and left hands) as he said, “Like her? Never!” They were confused the more, looking at their son with poker faces.

Mrs. White soon found her voice, then she said, “Why the embrace then?” in an inquisitive manner. Henry chortled and said, “Just pretending, so she won’t suspect what’s going to happen today.”

“What?” sounded the four-letter word from their lips, synchronously, in a humongous mode, having been amplified by the synergic effect of their voices.

“Music practice at RENDEZVOUS of course!” said Henry and the two exclaimed, “Huh!” remembering it.

“It’s true, today’s Monday,” said his father with a loud voice.

“Henry, you’re small devil,” added his mother jokingly.

Henry spent his time at home that day thinking of how the outing would go.

“She’ll run at our sight, but I’ll chase after her,” thought Henry.

“No, she’ll not see us at all,” he argued all alone. “She’ll be engrossed in what she’s doing, so she won’t be aware of our presence. Dad and Mum will tie her; her friends will scatter; their plans will be shattered.” He then smiled. “Me? I’ll pinch hell out of her body when she is taken to the Black Maria, because a cop will be involved.”
“She will be dumped in the prison. Yes, got it.” He left the front of the large mirror in the lounge where he had been all the while, speaking out his mind.

At noon, Henry’s father arrived, almost around the same time with his wife’s arrival too. Henry never remembered to greet them. He said,

“Dad, Mum, let’s get going.”

“Ain’t we going to have little rest? It’s only 12.45 pm,” said Mr. White, pulling the button of the collar of his shirt. Then Mrs. White said, “Gaby, were you granted permission?”

“No, I sneaked out. I pray my boss will not discover.”

“I’m lucky,” said Sally. “I was permitted, unlike you.”

They set out some minutes to 2pm. At Henry’s advice, two cops escorted them. They had truncheons with them—something Kate wouldn’t want to be hit with. Their cars pulled up in front of the place. It was then few minutes past two. The Police officer got inside the edifice. They combed everywhere but could not find Kate and mates. Henry suggested that they waited for her in hiding.

For forty-five minutes, they were in a corner, peeping to see if she was coming. Just when they were about to give up, Mr. White’s phone rang.

“Dad,” Kate spoke. “I’ve been waiting here for the past one-hour. Henry’s not home, so I can’t get inside, since he’s with the key.”

“Kate, where are you?” asked Mr. White.
“Home,” she said. “For the past one-hour now,” she had exaggerated, having arrived only few minutes ago. She could be justified since no one was around to gainsay the claim.

“Alright, very soon we shall be home too,” Gaby said, feeling highly embarrassed. Henry was looking here and there like a vigilante.

“Henry!” screamed Mr. White. Then his phone rang again. It was his boss this time. He smelt rat instantly. Trouble!

Reluctantly, he picked it.

“Where are you Mr. White?” Gaby’s employer spoke instantly without any salutation coming before.

“Em—I- I…” stuttered the man in reply.

“Alright—” said his boss, “just consider yourself suspended for three weeks.” The man at the other end cut the call. The police officers said, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry for everything,” apologized Mr. White.

“It’s this boy; he misled us all.” The man gesticulated as he spoke. “Thanks—you can leave now.”

“Leave!” they screamed, “Somebody must be arrested!” said the cops in fury for the time they had wasted in laying ambush for a ‘wild goose’.
They all went silent. Mr. White spoke:

“Well…you can take him. He caused it all.”
Henry’s mother was in full support of her husband’s decision. She said, “Yeah, go with him.”

Henry could have raced away, but he knew it was not feasible, rifles being pointed at him. They led him to their vehicle.

“Come for him with a bail whenever you are ready,” said the more elderly of the cops.

Kate was not as foolish as Henry had thought. Since Henry had disclosed to their parents that she was in a music club, she knew he was also going to tell them about the rendezvous for practice, (Rendezvous Guest House) so she had informed her friends of this, therefore the earlier scheduled meeting was annulled.

When Henry was trying to pull the wool over her face by the pretentious hug and the chocolates, she was not deceived at all then. While Henry was busy with the gruesome thoughts, during the hug, Kate was thinking too. It seemed she did see him with a knife then, intending to stab her. She was convinced that Henry’s attitude to her at that moment was a bogus one, when she heard him laugh loudly immediately he had entered his room that day after the clinch. Having discovered the truth, Kate had immediately called for the cancellation of the earlier scheduled rehearsal.

Mr. White never had any feeling of compassion for Henry during the periods he did spend in the cell, chafing at his wife often during her several attempts to inveigle him into releasing their son. His extreme annoyance could be traced to the fact that Gaby had detested the manner in which his superior had humiliatingly dished him the suspension. He had never loved to be home idle when a lot of work was waiting to be done by him somewhere. It pained Henry’s workaholic father that he would have to be home for three weeks, doing nothing.

Eventually, Mrs. White pleas stopped falling on deaf ears. Gaby agreed to get Henry out on bail, but he had spent one month already in the dungeon without being paid a visit by his father.
Undoubtedly, Kate’s halcyon days were those days Henry was away, in prison. She enjoyed every thing both of them should have had to share—money, meals, merriments and lots more. She gained a great deal of weight within that period. She wished Henry never returned, preferring to see him dead in the cell. But contrary to her wishes, Henry arrived, lean, wan and feeble, face pallid, hair bedraggled and mouth smelly, since he did not take care of his teeth properly while in gaol.

As if Henry had not been humiliated enough, Kate, upon his arrival, aggravated her brother’s condition by her words to him.
“Your chocolate is yummy in my tummy,” she had said, wrapping it up with ridiculous smiles. Such statement was the regurgitation of Henry’s mocking expressions in the past, whenever he was forcing himself on Kate to get her chocolate. Now it was Kate’s turn to pay him back in his own coin.

Henry was silent. He did not say a word to anyone at home. He had got a whole month to spend before resumption, having spent the first half of his holiday in police custody.

Three days later, Henry was missing. His parents feared that he must have gone out to kill himself, but Kate knew such could never have happened, suggesting that he had gone back to school. His parent’s visit to the school confirmed Kate’s thought. He had left secretly for school.

.......He felt a touch on his shoulder, which jolted him out of his reverie. It was the dean’s hand.
“Henry, you must have thought about it—”said the dean, looking directly into his eyeballs, “long enough.”

“Uhm,” Henry said, “Maybe.”

“So…” said the dean, gesticulating, “D’you want this power?”

“Em—sir what’s going to be my profit?”

“Don’t let me repeat myself. You’re going to have power—to control whatever—see the future.”

“I’m interested,” accepted Henry. At least he was going to have the power to control his younger sister.

Who is reading this story

SammyO4real:
Who is reading this story

am definitely following i wander what kept you from updating all this while

Is this d complete season. D last time I check this story dey season nine..

rofemiguwa:
Is this d complete season. D last time I check this story dey season nine..

Wia did u see season nine? I'm sure not in this planet

I noticed that Sammy wanted to monetise his work not knowing some of us are students. how far with the magazine? Hope its been successful?

Isn't this SammyHoe's property? Or is this person and SammyHoe the same person? Confused here.

Audinowing:
I noticed that Sammy wanted to monetise his work not knowing some of us are students. how far with the magazine? Hope its been successful?

students pay for recharge cards, don't they? Anyway, tinz just got suspended due to finance but suspension is never termination. The magazine will come someday. How are u doing?

rapmike:
Isn't this SammyHoe's property? Or is this person and SammyHoe the same person? Confused here.

yeah, d SammyHoe NL accounted has bin deleted. Here's d new me.

SammyO4real:
yeah, d SammyHoe NL accounted has bin deleted. Here's d new me.

Oh, okay... No p

Nice story pls more...

Nice story. I'm intrigued, pls update the story is too good for people not to read.

INITIATED

“Henry, I’m a club member and I’ll like you join me in it,” Ted said.

“Club? When d’you join?”

“Two years ago.”

“What’s it all about?”

“All about getting the best in all aspects of life. Academicians of various calibers are there.” Ted said. “I’m sorry I’ve not told you this long ago.”

“Why?” said Henry, face looking a bit disfigured.

“Why’re you just telling me now?”

“I’m sorry; It was because I had erroneously thought you won’t have interest in such.”

“Why d’you think so?”

“You don’t like meeting people, do you?”

“You’re right,” said Henry. “But I’m already working on my social life, since the day I set my eyes on Cynthia.” Ted frowned because of the name Henry had just mentioned. Then he said,
“That’s good friend. A hundred percent social life will do no harm to anyone. ”

“Okay, your club, where’s it situated, California here?” Henry asked inquiringly, already developing interest. For a reply Ted said, “Just come to my room 6pm—tomorrow. I’ll take you there.”

Henry Exclaimed. “6pm! Oops! Ted I’m sorry I can’t make it.”

“Why?” asked Ted.

“Cos I’ve got to go somewhere with another man—same time, same date,” he said coolly.

“Maybe another time,” Henry concluded.
Ted was nosy, so he asked, “May I know who you’re going with and where?”

“Never worry,” said Henry. He wished Ted would not insist on knowing it.
Ted said, “When did you begin to hide things from me? Is it Cynthia you’re dating tomorrow?”

“She’s not,” said Henry point-blank. “She’s adamant.”

“No problem if you don’t want to tell me.”
Henry could have told Ted, but he was not going to. However, Ted smiled and left Henry alone. As Henry walked towards the lecture room, (he was an hour late already) he met Cynthia.

“Hi Cynthia,” he said, already having the thought of forfeiting lecture to spent some time with her, but she was in a hurry.

“Hi Henry,” she replied, leaving without saying more than that. Professor Wilson was already in the class when Henry entered.

“Henry, you’re an hour late, why?” he asked.
“I- I…” Henry stammered and every one laughed. He overheard someone say that he had seen him in the library studying. Another shouted, “Bookworm!”

“Henry, you’ve got to see me after class,” said the professor. Henry’s eyes bulged on hearing it. The students laughed.

Actually, Henry was in the library all the while. He was coming out from there when he met Ted. He was not studying in there, but was reading some novels instead. Since he had the ability to read very fast, he was enamored with reading novels, which had eventually become his hobby. He had read many of Chase’s books and had begun to write his own too.

Henry soon went to the dean’s office.

“I’m sorry I came late to…”

“Sorry for what? I’ve not called you here to discuss your lateness. The early comers what have they got to show for it? Nothing!” He looked at Henry’s face and smiled, “Henry guess what!” said the dean. The expression on Henry’s face on hearing the words had passed a message to the man’s brain. Henry was scared of guessing.

“Okay, I can see you have phobia for guessing, isn’t it?” said the man and Henry nodded pretentiously, in order to let the dean say what he had to say. Henry was only trying to save time by his deeds.

“Well,” said the man, smiling. “It’s my birthday—today,” he said. “It’s special to me—happens only once in four years.”

“February 29, it’s true,” said Henry.

“I have never remembered to celebrate it. Since it is once every four years, it skips my memory.”

“Really!” exclaimed Henry. “It’s creepy.”

“Funny too. Last year, 1983, on February 28, I informed family and friends about my birthday to come next day, February 29. They all agreed to show up at the party. The party ground was set early enough as planned, the next day, but no one showed up.”

“Why?” asked Henry, pretending as if he never had an idea.

“Well, asking a friend later, he said that he checked his calendar the day that was supposed to be my birthday, only to discover it was March 1. So he felt there was no need for coming to my party anymore, since February 29 had decided not to surface.”

“Wow!” screamed Henry, amused by the short story, then the dean changed the mood abruptly.
“Hey, I called you here—” said the dean, “to remind you of tomorrow’s schedule. You still remember?”

“Yes sir—vividly.”

“You’ve told anyone?”

“No.”

“That’s good,” said the man. “You need not tell any one. Is that okay?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, but got some instant formation of questions in his brain, to ask the dean.

“Sir, where are we going tomorrow? Is it by rail, air or road?”

“Don’t worry your head,” the dean said. Meet me here tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure sir.”

At night, Henry could not sleep. He was overworking his brain, giving it lots of thoughts. Such had been his manner whenever he was curious about something.

What his parents’ reactions would be was part of what he was ruminating.

“Will they disown me? But Kate wasn’t disowned when she became a musician eventually.” At the thought of Kate, Henry’s countenance metamorphosed into a gloomy type. “I hate her. I’ve never prevailed over her.”

When Kate eventually joined herself to a professional music band called ‘The Lioness’, though secretly, Henry discovered it and divulged the secret to their parents. Kate came home one fateful day with her friends. Henry had kept a voice recorder somewhere in the room. Though Henry was not home when they came, yet the device recorded their speeches. In the course of the discussion, the friends spoke about a cassette, which they had kept in Kate’s school bag. Henry was able to locate the cassette as a result of the information he had got from the hidden device.

Henry played the cassette. She was performing on stage in it with her colleagues. Henry was almost carried away with the music, which was played andante. Kate was the lead singer in it, with an angelic voice. Henry was already nodding his head from side to side to the rhythm when he suddenly came to himself. He stopped abruptly and frowned.

Henry kept the cassette. He was not going to let her know about it; else, his plan would go awry again, like the one that had led him to prison.

Henry showed his parents the cassette at their arrival. They saw Kate in it, dazzling in front of many spectators. She was caught red-handed this time. Kate was shown the cassette. She was taken aback by it.

Henry was patiently waiting for the verdict, disownment, but he was making a mistake. Mr. and Mrs. White said, “What did we tell you Kate?”
“I shouldn’t become a musician,” she said, looking miserable.

“Then why this?” They pointed to her image on the screen, which was twirling in rigorous dances.

“Mum, dad, you can’t understand—I mean that’s the only talent I’ve got in the world,” she said, weeping solemnly.

“But we want you to be a doctor,” Mr. White said.
“Unfit. I can assure you lots of lives will be lost,” she said. Everywhere was silent after her speech. Henry was leering inimically at her, but she took no heed, probably because of her sight being blurred by the accumulation of tears dropping like dilute acid from a pipette, in drops—then in excess.

After moments of thinking by her parents, they said, “Kate you know what?” she could not answer, since her voice had become hoarse by the incessant weeping. “As long as you’re not going to join magic cult you are allowed to be a musician.”

Hearing such, she jumped from her seat to hug them. They received her with open arms. Wiping her face, she made eyes at Henry. Henry was jealous. He was getting prepared to leave the lounge when his father suddenly said, “Henry, please can you just raise the volume of the music, so that we can clearly hear its lyrics?” Henry ignored them in embarrassment and walked out of the room, abashed. Outside the door, Henry hit hard on the floor as if to artificially generate seismic wave from it—the type that would result into intense earthquake, which would swallow him up. Since the floor was the reinforced type, it did not pave way for “Henry’s wave” to pass through.

*FTC*nice keep em coming

Weirdman:
*FTC*nice keep em coming

I'll do just that

MARCH 1, 1984

Henry walked eagerly to school next day, from the hostel. He saw Ted waving at him distances away. He spoke loudly from where he was:

“Henry, see you in the meeting this evening!”

“Meeting?” Henry thought. “I thought I’ve told him I’m not gonna make it.”

After the day lecture, Susie approached him. If Henry had been aware of her presence on time, he would have sneaked away. She was already very close before Henry was able to realize it. Not that she had a small stature for him not to have noticed her presence on time. At least she was having an enormous stature, just like Kate, Henry’s sister.

Susie wasn’t athletic too, but a bit plump instead. She had frog-like eyeballs, which appeared as if glaring at anyone she had come across. However, it seemed they had functioned like Galilean telescopes, since she did profess that everything she did saw appeared closer to her than they really were. She was so proud of such exceptional ability that she gave herself the name “Mrs. Spy”.

Susie was among the myriad of ladies, who always felt that having Henry as an inamorato would be the best thing that could ever happen to them, believing that Henry, who was the most brilliant in their level, according to a general conclusion, could bring them to limelight, if only they were intimately close to him. However, Cynthia wasn’t in such school of thought. Her predilection for sport, basketball especially, had possibly affected her choice. She loved sport men.

Susie, being Henry’s departmental mates, had invited him to her parties several times, but he had never honored one, giving flimsy and shoddy excuses. Susie was never tired of inviting him and he was never tired of rejecting her invitations too. Susie was not a tetchy type of person. She did showed much level of maturity, beaming with incredible auspiciousness, believing that persistence was the secret to getting whatever one was craving after. But, if her principle was a general type, she might not win Henry over, because Henry too was working with the same principle—to get Cynthia.

“Henry,” she called. She was going to ask him out once again. “I’m sure you won’t say yes.”

“To what?” asked Henry.

“What I’m about to ask—”

“I’ll say yes,” said Henry rashly, not looking up at her face.

It was Henry’s usual practice to frustrate her effort, by saying something to negate her words, but Henry was not aware that Susie could be tricky sometimes.

She smiled and said, “Are you going to come with me—” She lowered her face to look into his eyes, “for dinner at dusk—six pm?” she concluded with a smile.

Henry discovered his foolishness at once. He had earlier promised to say yes.

“Sorry, can’t say yes this time,” said Henry regretfully.

“Why?” she asked. “I thought you said you don’t tell lies and you hate liars.”

“It’s true.”

“Then why changing your words? You said you’ll say yes.”

“I’m Sorry,” said Henry. “I would have loved to come with you, but I’m having a date with someone else.”

“Do you care if I know who?” said Susie. She had never seen Henry hang around with any girl, so she was eager to know who it was Henry would be dating. Henry hesitated.

“With the dean,” Henry grimaced after his speech. Susie mustered superficial laughter.

“Are you guys gays?” she japed and laughed again. Amidst laughter Henry said, “No. just that we’ve agreed to meet… for something important.”

Ending his speech, Henry felt like a betrayer for telling her about the meeting. The Professor had asked Henry not to tell anyone that he would be taking him somewhere, but Henry had just made the mistake of letting out the secret to Susie. His visage was dull instantly. He left her on that spot, striding away with fast and quick steps, usual with a fella, who was ten minutes late for duty.

Henry ideated the Professor asking him if he had told anybody about the meeting. He quickly got it settled beforehand the response he would give.

Few minutes to the scheduled time, Henry got to the dean’s office, but leaned against the door for few moments before summoning the courage to go in, being afraid that the dean, utilizing the said magical power, would perceive his breach of promise.

“You’re here at last.”

“Yes sir.” He gazed on the tiled and glossy floor. Keeping silent, he fixed his gaze on the well-painted wall, then to the glass of coffee, placed on a small table between himself and the dean. The coffee in it was so little that it would hardly satisfy the thirst of a newly born baby.

The man looked earnestly on him and said, “You’ve told somebody, isn’t it?” Henry was not going to let the dean beat him to it. He was going to see if the man was establishing a fact or only asking a question. He kept quiet, expecting him to say it again.

The man felt that Henry did not hear his speech clearly, so he said, “Have you told somebody?” in a louder tone. To give an answer seemed difficult, because Henry’s conscience was actively knocking the door of his heart, as if to burgle the rib cage and get him arrested if he told a lie. To keep it quiet Henry was going to play a trick on it, which should also be effective enough to trick the dean.

“Uh—” sounded Henry as he kept silent, thinking, “Susie isn’t worth somebody to me. She’s nobody.”

The impatient man shouted, “Hey, tell me, have you told somebody?”

“I’ve not told somebody. I only told—”

“Who?” shouted the Professor, extremely curious.

“I only told Nobody,” he said trickily, and the man fell for it, chuckling ignorantly as he said, “You and this repartee of yours…”

Henry had many strategies he used in deceiving people and his conscience too. The one he had just used was only one of those numerous strategies.

“Have your seat.” The dean pointed to a rocking chair directly opposite him. “You’ll see for yourself today in the meeting, the coming together of lots of people from all works of life. Just count yourself lucky that you’ll soon be in their midst.”

Henry coughed. It was a sign to tell the man that he was bored of too much of talks, but was expecting to begin the journey instantly, to the meeting place, not knowing how far or near the place would be, to the campus.

Making his right hand into a cylindrical form, by folding his fingers, the Professor yawned into the cavity formed as he continued:

“You’re going to meet with great men of great achievements. Doctors, Lawyers, Professors, Inventors, Astronauts, Students ...”

“People of different caliber,” intruded Henry.

“What will they be doing there?” he asked.

“Sharing great ideas. That’s why I said you’ll have all knowledge and the ability to see the future.”

“How?”

“Combination of skills from all the represented profession over there will tantamount to power—for you… for me… and… for all.”

Already losing patience, Henry decided to hasten up the discussion. Just as he was about to say something the dean said, “I’m going to ask you seven questions Henry, then we shall leave after you’ve provided the answers.”

“Alright,” said Henry, waiting to hear him speak.

“Ask on.” The man heaved a deep sigh, then he said, “One, what kind of power do great inventors possess?”

“Power of creativity,” said Henry promptly, as if he had premeditated on it. The man nodded in disapproval.

“Two, is any mean of transportation faster than the rocket?” Henry was not going to say anything this time, since his first answer had been rejected. He kept quiet.

“Three, where will you be forty-five minutes from now?” Gladly, Henry said, “In the meeting.”

“You’ll know this later,” said the dean. “Fourth question for you; which is best, making names or living long?”

“I don’t know.” Henry was gutted.

“I’m forty-four, am I fulfilled if I die at forty-five?”

“Sir, I beg your pardon, is it supposed to be the fifth question?” asked Henry, showing reverence for the man.

“Yeah!” he replied.

“I’m not sure,” said Henry as a reply to the question.

“Sixth question,” the man said, pointed a finger at him swiftly, and continued. “If your bosom friend is into something for two good years before letting you know about it, how will you feel?”

“It can’t happen.”

“What if it does?”

“Then such’s no friend. A friend wouldn’t wait for so long.”

“What will you do if such fella’s your friend?”

“I’ll choke him to death,” said Henry in earnest, his facial expression revealing the outpour of rage on the abstract friend.

“You won’t,” said the dean. “You’ll stick closer the more—to him.”

“How d’you know that?” Henry asked baffled.

“I saw into your future.” The man’s face gestured his expression. He looked piercingly into Henry’s eyeballs, sending some sensation of fear into him.

“Seventh and last,” the man said at last. “When will you die?”

Henry answered rudely this time, “How am I suppose to know?”

“Well, you’ve just justified the fact that ordinary genius like you can’t give a right answer to any of the questions. But, they’ll become simple to you by the time you return as extra—ordinary genius.”

At last the dean asked, “Shall we go now?” Henry was going to yell a block letter “YES!”. About to open his mouth, Henry found himself in the midst of thousands of people, in a different ‘world’.

Hearing lots of lingoes, Henry’s ears were unable to convey meaningful words to his brain—all he heard were balderdash to him. Despite the fact that Henry had found himself in such a strange environment, he wasn’t excessively afraid, since the dean had earlier made it known to him where he was going—the Magic World.

Looking around, Henry saw fanlights, of extra-ordinary dimensions, appearing to be made of crystals, around the four corners of the large hall he had found himself in. He could see through those fanlights, though they were very far from him.

Not knowing where he was, he fixed his gaze on those in there, and each step they took amazed him; it was like everyone he saw moving was running. None was walking. Somebody fled past Henry. Henry was surprised at the enormous speed and the resultant sound produced by such swift motion. The way they fled was to him as the image on a TV screen when being fast-forwarded.

Tired of standing, he took a step, then another, but was shocked at the great distance himself had just covered with those two steps he had just taken.

Another person fled past him again, though with enormous speed, yet he was able to recognize who such was. The fleer was a great French inventor, whose stupendous contraption had evoked much argument in the Science World. They had criticized it for lack of sufficient scientific background. The said scientist never had formal education, yet was able to come out with such great invention. Seeing him, the dean’s first question came to his mind.

Henry concluded in his mind, “Great inventors possess magical power.” He was going to tell the dean that by the time they get back to his office. Henry turned back, aiming to catch up with the scientist, perhaps to ask him some few questions. He was soon side by side with him.

“Sir,” he called, “I’ve once seen you on TV.” The man’s muteness brought Henry to the realization of the fact that not every one in the world understood or communicate in English language.

“I’m sorry you’re a Frenchman,” said Henry in an apologetic tone, turning instantly to go. Just then the man spoke in English, “Young man, who the hell are you?”

“I’m Henry—Henry White.”

“Oh, the Professor’s boy.” The man smiled.

“How d’you know me?” asked Henry in a puzzled manner.

“Check that out,” said the man as he ‘ran’ away.

Observing the celerity of his own paces, Henry detected that those in there were not actually running—but walking. Everything in Gyrus was happening at a great lick.

Walking aimlessly, looking for the dean, he began to see signposts on every aisle in the large auditorium, each narrating how to get to one place or the other. Intrigued by one of those signposts, Henry stopped abruptly and read: WELCOME TO GYRUS. EIGHTY KILOMETRES TO THE U.S. KEEP MOVING.

Henry knew at once that that was where he would belong, since he was a US citizen back in the world he had come from. Taking fast steps, he got there rapidly. He saw ahead of him a metallic cuboidal signboard of gargantuan dimension, suspended from a lofty height by nothing. Yet, many sat underneath, without the fear that it could fall on them.

At that juncture, Henry began to see names written on all the empty seats he did saw as he strode along. Each seat had flat object hinged on one arm of it such that the object could be flipped and used as a platform for placing something such as book if one was desiring to write something. Many were already seated.

Still battling with the thought of what to do somebody came rushing towards his direction. The speed was tremendous, much more than those he had witnessed since arriving the great hall. To avoid collision with the coming fellow of which Henry had felt would be fatal, having fiddled with the calculation of the resultant momentum of the figure in flight directly before him, Henry swerved to the right. Funny enough the figure stopped abruptly beside him. He was a young boy.

“Hello, may I help you?” asked the boy, whose neck was bent downward as if having some spinal cord problem.

“Yeah!” said Henry. “I’m trying to locate my seat.”

“Oh, you must be new here?”

“Yes.” Henry fixed his gaze firmly on the boy and identified him at once.

“Ted!” Henry yelled as he recognized him.

“Surprised!” said Ted, winking.

“Sure. What’re you doing here?”

“I should rather ask you that.”

Henry said, “This is where Professor Wilson brought me to.”
“He brought me here too, two years ago,” said Ted. “D’you know why?” Ted asked and Henry said, “No.”

“My passion for sport. He saw me doing badly in every sport I participated in. Then he told me I can make it if I join the magic.”

Henry revealed without being asked, “Mine, because of my result. He said I can do better.”

“He’s right. How on earth do you think I’ve got to know that you would be coming here today?”

Henry remembered instantly how Ted had said, “Henry, see you in the meeting this evening” back in the school, then he yelled, “Oh my goodness! How do you know?”

“He said it.”

“Who?” asked Henry inquisitively.

“The dean,” said Ted. “Before bringing anyone here you’ll inform the whole congregation, telling the name, age, status and everything you know about such a one—and the day such will be coming.”

As Ted ended his speech, Henry inferred that the French inventor he had met must have known who he was when the Professor was broadcasting it as Ted had said.

“Hmm!” Henry sounded. Then he asked, “Ted, it seems you’ve got the swiftest speed over here.”

“Why d’you say so?”

“The rate at which you got to me.”

“Oh,” said Ted laughing. “It’s because I was running—to meet you—every other person here was walking.”

“The riddle is solved, I’m glad. Glad seeing you here. I’m not going to feel lonely in here.”

“It’s true. Seeing Ken here on my first arrival made me glad too—then.”

“So,” said Henry. “Ken belongs here too!”

“Of course yes.”

Henry asked, “But, I’ve not seen the dean since arriving here. I don’t think he came with me.”

“You came together. You couldn’t have come here alone—ordinary person.”

“So where’s he?”

“Seated over there,” said Ted pointing, though Henry could still not see him. “All members land directly on their seats—new-comers are left to wander about in search of their seats themselves. That’s the situation we’ve got here.”

Ted looked around.

“Wow!” Everyone’s almost seated,” Ted yelled. His face looked worried instantly. Henry was going to ask him why, but Ted hurried him up to get his seat.

“Let’s go find your seat.”

As they scurried along, looking at every empty seat they came across, Ted spoke.

“We get information on whatever’s going on around the world over here. Many inventors get solutions to problems—here. Doctors, lawyers—even some pastors—get their powers from here too…just feel at home here Henry.”

“I’m doing that already—since I found you,” smiled Henry.

Ted said, “When you’re called upon to introduce yourself, you need not stand up or walk to the podium. There’s a screen right there that’s going to show you wherever you are, and every one will see you through it. Also, a fairly large mirror will be given to you when you get to your seat. Through it you can communicate with anyone you wish.”

“What part of the earth’s this?”

“We’re not on earth. We’re in Gyrus—a planet not discovered yet,” said Ted, with a note of sincerity.

“What if some men discover it while we’re in here, ain’t we going to be relayed over the satellite—for all eyes to see?”

“It’s impossible,” said Ted. “We’ve got some astronauts here with us. They tell us the planets they’d discovered, the ones to explore, when and how. Then we give them the go-ahead or say no.”

“Splendid!”

“At last,” said Ted, pointing to an empty seat. “Here’s your seat,” he said pointing to a cushioned seat having metallic edges and a backrest. On its top was written “HENRY WHITE”, in the Lincoln typeface. The Lincoln was Henry’s best font, so seeing it he was greatly attracted to the seat. Every member’s name, before his or her arrival, was written in the type of writing style such was best enamored with.

Ted rushed away, as soon as Henry had sat down, with a speed far far greater than the one he had initially used to get to Henry. But this time Henry observed it wasn’t Ted alone utilizing such enormous speed—many others were doing that too. There and then Henry felt he had the answer to the dean’s second question.
A whistle sounded, and then followed the chimes of bell, of incredibly humongous decibel.

Seated to the left of Henry was a young boy, of about the same age and stature, leering wickedly at Henry at first sight. He was putting on a silky shirt, having several colors, and a panama hat laid fittingly on his head which was only partially covering his hairs. His nostril was extremely narrow, but the looks of his eyes were piercing. His mouth seemed rotund as that of a koala bear.

To the right of Henry was seated a young girl, whose appearance was exactly the replica of Kate’s doll: Her hair was long and white. Her eyelashes appeared artificially glued to her face. Her teeth were the whitest Henry had ever seen. She was friendly, welcoming Henry as he sat.

“Hullo, I’m Dolly, what’s yours?” she said, speaking like a young baby, who had only learnt few words to communicate with.

“Henry,” he replied. To avoid further communication with her (since she was not Cynthia) Henry looked ahead, away from her. It seemed the presence of Henry was gladdening her heart, since she wouldn’t have to be the next to the leering boy anymore (Henry’s seat had only come between them that same day).

Looking lopsidedly to his left, Henry saw the section occupied by the Africans. Their population seemed to outnumber those of each of the rest of the sections in the conference hall.

“If we’ve got lots of them here,” said Henry to himself, “why has there not been much development there?” However Henry got no answer to his question, since no one was able to hear his question.

“I’m going to ask the Professor—when we get back to earth.”
Not long after, a voice was heard calling for order. The Lingua Franca over there was English, since the addressee was communicating with it and everyone appeared to understand it. It occurred to Henry that the French inventor he’d earlier seen, must have learnt the English language over there—in Gyrus.
Henry was able to see the anonymous voice owner through a large screen far ahead at the podium, having a base on which it stood. The Screen was convex, magnifying the image of the speaker ten times more than the way his stature was.

No loudspeakers were seen around, yet the speaker’s voice came out audibly, with ultra-high frequency, synchronously sourcing from the mouth of the speaker. A winged mirror flew towards Henry and hung before him. He grabbed it and its wings vanished instantly.

The speaker on the podium called the names of each first-timers one after the other demanding for an introduction from each of them. At last it was Henry’s turn to introduce himself.

“Professor Wilson,” said the man. “Is your boy here?”

The dean appeared in everybody’s mirror instantly, about to speak.

“You sure know that,” said the dean in a rather boorish manner. Then the speaker called, “Henry White, introduce yourself.”

Henry, about to rise up, was pulled back to his seat by Dolly.

“You needn’t rise up,” she said slowly, putting much stress on each word.

Henry coughed.

“I’m Henry White. I attend the CCUL, in the Physics department, born in 1965…”

At the mention of his year of birth, the boy to his left looked more intensely at him. Henry’s image on the large screen located on the podium, was made the cynosure of all eyes. Henry was shy.

Lots of people were given room to demand whatever they needed. Some, craving for fame, made enquiries on how to make it. Politicians too, asked great deal of questions. What staggered Henry was the numerosity of the Africans who had asked questions too. Their population surpassed those of the other continents—but most of the questions they asked were clustered around personal interest instead of the good of the masses. There and then, Henry believed he had got enough facts to unravel the enigma he was having earlier concerning them.

A very long period after, the meeting was brought to a close. The rate at which Gyrus became almost empty made Henry felt that most of the people were nostalgic, wanting to be home on earth. Not knowing how to get to earth, he was pacing about. All of a sudden, he met himself right before the dean in his office. The man was sitting opposite him, just as they were before ‘skyrocketing’ to Gyrus…

I'm back nd urs is the first story i checked. Guy u are amazing. Keep up thegood work and you'll go places. Just believe in yourself and that is probably all you'll need.

SofiaAmrozia:
I'm back nd urs is the first story i checked. Guy u are amazing. Keep up thegood work and you'll go places. Just believe in yourself and that is probably all you'll need.

Thanks for this awesome motivation. Cheers!

Nice work bro bring it on

Very Original