JUDAS
BY KELVIN ALANEME
JUDAS - PART 1
I looked intently at the woman as she made her way towards the Master. My eyes lit up in recognition. The prostitute! The prostitute He saved from being stoned to death by the Pharisees! I could still picture them throwing down their stones and leaving, frustrated.
We had visited Bethany and Simon the leper had invited us to his house. Seated around the dinner table, there was plenty to eat and drink. The atmosphere was boisterous, until the woman entered. There was sudden quiet. All eyes were riveted on her slender frame as she walked, an alabaster jar in hand, straight to where the Master reclined.
The perfume from the jar filled the room. Genuine spikegard! I knew the price by heart. Three hundred denarii! That will enough to build a modest house. Or buy some arms to fund the revolution if the Master wishes. I was the apostle in charge of the purse. The Master, Jesus the Nazarene, must have seen my financial acumen when he asked me to follow him.
There was something in His eyes that compelled you to do His bidding. I said a brief goodbye to my parents Simon and Cyborea and followed my destiny. I have always known I was destined for great things. His choosing me was the first sign that He was from God. He was the Messias, the one to free us from Roman oppression and He has chosen me to be in His cabinet. There were eleven others, who like me, are very close to the Master. I have followed Him everywhere for three years. Caesarea Phillipi. Galilee. Judea. Carpanaum. Bethany.
The revolution was not forthcoming. But the Master dazzles with His miracles and that made me stay. Some of His female disciples brought food regularly and there was always money in the purse. Sometimes, I lent out the money for profit. Discreetly, of course. I made some friends within the Sanhendrin. We know they have been looking for ways to get hold of the Master. But the Master keeps eluding their grasp. On one occasion, they wanted to push him off a hill. He simply slipped through their hands and walked away. I was amazed.
The woman stood for some time gazing into the Master's eyes. Her next action almost made me choke with the bread in my mouth. She broke the jar, pouring the oil on Master's head. I protested in anger.
"What a waste of this perfumed oil! It could have been sold for three hundred denarii, more than three hundred days' wages and the money given to the poor."
The Master shot me a disapproving look.
"Let her alone. Why do you make trouble for her? She has done a good thing for me. The poor you will always have with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them, but you will not always have me. She has done what she could. She has anticipated anointing my body for burial."
This public rebuke was the last straw. I no longer understand the Master. How can He be talking of His burial when the revolution was yet to take place? He once sent us out to preach, saying,"Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand." Where is the kingdom?
I ate the rest of my meal in silence, determined to set the Master right on His glorious path. I would make the revolution happen. Perhaps, if the Scribes, the Pharisees and the Chief priests came to believe in Him, they would form a formidable team to defeat the Romans. But to believe in Him, they needed a compelling sign. An outstanding miracle.
On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, we gathered in an upper room for the Passover meal. John was in his usual place, on the right of the Master. Simon Peter was his usual jovial self. Matthew was writing reading a scroll, which he put away when the meals arrived. The bread smelled fresh. We ate happily, Peter regaling us with a tale of a stormy night at sea.
"One of you will betray me, one who is eating with me."
The Master's voice had a tinge of sadness. I looked at Him in confusion, trying to make sense of His words. Peter motioned John to ask Him something. I did not hear what He said to John. Just then, the Master dipped a piece of bread in the dish, leaned across the table and handed it to me. It took it gladly. As I took the first bite, a fit of rage engulfed me. I tried to suppress it but I could not. I stood up to leave.
"What you are going to do, do quickly." The voice of the Master trailed my exit.
Finally. The revolution.
I headed straight to the palace of the high priest, Caiphas. He was in a meeting with some chief priests. I had told his maidservant seven words. "I will hand Jesus over to you." He came out to the court immediately and looked at me from head to toe.
"How?" he finally asked.
"I am one of His apostles. I know where He is at the moment. I know all His teachings..."
His voice cut me off. "For how much?"
I scratched my head. "Thirty pieces of silver."
He laughed and went inside. He soon emerged with a bag which he threw at me. I caught it mid-air and proceeded to count. There were thirty pieces, alright. He called the guards and told me to lead them.
We went back to the upper room but it was deserted. The guards gave me an angry stare but I reassured them. I knew where the Master would be. Mount of Olives, beyond Kidron valley. He teaches His disciples there often.
"The one I would kiss, He is the one. Seize Him."
I chuckled as I gave them the tip. Two things may happen. The Master could slip from the hands and disappear as usual. Or He could call down angelic soldiers to fight for Him and the revolution will start. Either way, I go home with thirty pieces of silver. Good deal!
We met them at the mount, in a garden called Gethsamane. His three favourites were with Him. I went up to Him and kissed Him.
"Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?"
I wanted to say,"I am doing this for your own good." But no words came out. I looked at the floor away from the disturbing eyes of the three apostles with Him.
The guards seized Him immediately. Peter cut off a servant's ear but the Master rebuked him and miraculously fixed the ear. I watched on in chagrin. The apostles ran away. I followed from a distance hoping He would escape from their grip. He did not.
Things happened so fast. He was swiftly condemned to death. I felt my heart break into a thousand pieces. My Lord cannot die! The revolution was yet to come. Events soon spiralled out of hand. Perhaps, if I returned the money, the Chief Priests will have a change of heart. I met them at the courtyard and gave the money back. They refused to accept it. I threw the money at their feet and ran out in anguish.
I walked on a lonely road, deserted because everyone had gone to witness the crucifixion. I felt my world caving in on me. I had blood on my hands. I had murdered the Son of God! I heard voices. They laughed and they taunted me. I broke into a run. I stumbled upon something and fell. As I raise my dusty head, I realize it was a dead mule. I unfastened the rope tied to its head. The tree close by beckoned. I climbed the branch and tied the rope on my neck, the other end anchored on a branch.
"This is a silly idea,"I told myself and tried to untie the rope on my neck.
I could not. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a breaking branch and I fell. As I dangled, struggling to breath, the excruciating pain in my neck sent a flurry of sharp arrows to my head. The voices grew louder as I descended into the darkness. Unsung.
JUDAS - PART 2
The fall was long and rough. In pitch darkness, I heard millions of voices crying and screaming. They were also falling. Suddenly, the atmosphere became very hot. My clothes burned up, the charred remains clinging to my reddened flesh. I screamed in horror. I was burning and the anguish was indescribable. Some other falling persons bumped into me, and looking into the orange skies, I could see millions of bodies raining down.
I felt a pain tear through my stomach. I let out a blood-curdling howl. Looking at my abdomen, I could see the blades of a giant three-pronged fork emerging, with strands of flesh. I looked below in horror. A creature was holding the giant fork, grinning wickedly and in an instant flung me towards a cauldron of boiling oil. I closed my eyes in anticipated anguish and screamed. A strong hand caught my waist mid-air and with a dark, commanding voice uttered, "He is mine."
He smashed me onto the ground. Pain engulfed me. I looked up at him. He was a sight to behold. Handsome and imposing, he was the tallest creature I have seen. He was surrounded by countless demons, bowing to him and paying him homage.
"Judas, welcome to my kingdom, the hell of the damned."
I was shaking terribly as I slowly arose. "I don't belong here."
He gave a prolonged laughter. The whole place reverberated with his voice.
"He doesn't belong here?" He laughed again. "You passed Limbo and Purgatory on your way as you fell. If you were one of the Patriachs of the faith or died an unbaptized infant, you would have been in Limbo. If you were His friend, He would have at least kept you in purgatory for purification by fire! But you fell straight to me. To me!" He laughed again, his legions of demons laughing with him.
"I like you Judas. A lot. You helped me accomplish what I have been planning to do since the beginning of time."
I looked at him in horror. "How?"
"Do you know we used to be in Heaven, with The Creator?" he pointed at his legions of demons.
"Really? Why did you leave?"
"I am Lucifer. The former Prince of Heaven and Light-bearer, now the King of the Underworld. The Creator did something abominable. He showed us a vision of He who you betrayed, as a small baby and commanded us to worship Him. Imagine, me, Lucifer worship a human baby? It was the last straw. My mind was made up permanently. I will not and I will never!" His voice thundered in anger. The demons gave a piercing cry and raised their three-pronged forks in unison.
"Michael, my best friend, and his group worshipped the baby. We have had enough. I commanded my Legions and we fought them. We left heaven for them. Why live perpetually like a slave when you can be a king elsewhere and be worshipped? Now, we have men worshipping us!" He roared in laughter and his demons joined him.
"I have been trying to kill Him since He was born. But He escaped, even to Egypt. I got Him in the wilderness, but He was a fool, blinded by loyalty to The Creator. I never relented. And then you came along and handed Him on a platter!" He laughed again. "Now that He is dead, mankind is doomed forever! Michael and his cohorts will regret their decision not to join my army."
I was petrified. I looked around. The whole place reeked of evil. Millions of demons were everywhere tormenting damned souls. There were shreiks and cries especially from the cauldron of boiling oil. The smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air. The worst evil on earth is nothing compared to what happened here.
"I don't belong here," I shouted, again. "Whatever I did, I did in error. Christ..."
There was a sudden earthquake that threw everyone on the ground, lying on their faces. Lucifer was the first to rise, after the quake, and gave me a blow that sent me flying into the shadows. Thousand of demons descended on me, biting, clawing, piercing me with prongs. I wished for death to come but it did not. My whole body was on fire and the pain, mind-numbing.
"Why did you mention that name?" Lucifer bellowed. He was incensed.
He came to the shadows and picked what remained of me and flung me to a demon who used a giant mallet to shatter my bones and skull. I felt my body break into a million pieces and dissolve in a sea of agony. Lucifer picked me up and threw me towards his throne.
"Don't you ever dare mention His name again!"
I nodded. I was damned to inhabit this zone of the dead with these evil creatures for eternity. I wept in agony.
"Whatever I did, I did unknowingly. He gave me a piece of bread and you possessed me."
He laughed long and hard. "Yes, I did. It is one of the means through which I operate. Diabolical possesion. I can torment you from the outside though. Judas, you were set up to be the scape-goat. Your act had been prophesied about and you merely fulfilled the scriptures."
His statement shocked me."Where is the justice in that? What happened to my free-will?"
"Don't ask me. Ask The Creator. Maybe He gave you an option to change your mind and you did not take it. Maybe."
Just then there was pandemonium. A female demon ran into the space, shaking.
"He is here. He-who-shall-not-be-named. He has set the souls in Limbo free."
Lucifer sprang to his feet. "What?! Soldiers! Prepare for attack. We have an intruder in my kingdom. Our kingdom. Let us finish Him now and for all eternity!"
The demons gave a heart-rending battle cry and chants of 'We will not serve' rented the air.
Then the earthquake started. Everyone fled to the shadows in panic, falling on their faces and screaming. Lucifer laid powerless on the ground.
I raised my head and saw Him. The Messias. He was looking at me with love in His eyes. His hands and feet had holes and His side was pierced. He raised His hand in my direction. Streams of bright light engulfed me. And then there was darkness.
JUDAS - PART 3
A female voice was shouting nearby. I heard sounds of feet hurrying to the room. Where was I? Another part of hell? Where is the Messias? His loving look had enveloped me with pity. I had shed tears of contrition, albeit too late. The rays of light from His saving hands was like honeyed balm and soothed my soul. In an instant, I forgot about Lucifer, his legion of demons, the torments and the stench of evil in the place of damnation. All I felt was love. And inner peace. I was lost in ecstasy.
The voices around me grew louder. I listened carefully. There were no cries of tormented souls. No wails of anguish from those been fried alive in the cauldron of boiling oil. I was yet to hear Lucifer's thundering, gloating voice. The voices sounded human. Someone touched my eyelids. Suddenly, I felt a flash of light flooded my left eye and then my right. I squinted at the light and tried to open my eyes. I saw a strange sight.
I was lying in a bed surrounded by various boxes making beeping sounds. I felt a pipe in my mouth and another in my nose. I squirmed in discomfort. Some persons were surrounding my bed. A man wearing a white coat was looking at me strangely and moving my legs. Some females dressed in white walking hurriedly around the room. The man was speaking to them. Where was this? Heaven? A middle-aged woman dressed in plain funny-looking clothes was jumping with joy at the end of the room, occasionally bursting into songs. The language they spoke was not Aramaic but somehow, I understood them.
The man in white coat noticed my discomfort and told them to remove the pipe in my mouth and nose. I breathed fine afterwards. He kept looking at me with surprise. A middle-aged man rushed into the room and looked at me disbelievingly. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "My son! My son is back!"
I looked at his face. I did not recognize him. The man in white coat spoke briefly with him and then turned to me.
"What is your name? Where is this place? Can you remember what happened to you?"
I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was dry. I gestured for water. I felt better as I gulped down the cool fluid.
"Judas." I said, after drinking. "Judas Iscariot."
They exchanged strange glances. The man in white had a frown on his face.
"I mean your name."
I nodded. "Judas. Judas Iscariot."
He shrugged. "Do you recognize these people?" He pointed at the man who just entered and the woman who had been singing.
I shook my head. They looked disappointed.
"Where is this place?" I asked.
"You are in a hospital," the man in white coat said. "What was the last thing you remember?"
"The Messias. I was in the hell of the damned. The Messias forgave my betrayal and healed my soul."
They exchanged curious glances again.
"Who is this Messias?" He was writing something. But I could detect concern in his voice.
"Jesus. The Nazarene. I was one of His apostles."
"You are not Judas Iscariot!" It was the woman. She was crying as she spoke. "You are Jude Isikaro. My son!"
The man tried to console her. I found her assertions very strange. How come?
The man beside her spoke to the man in a white coat. "Dr. Gbenga, what is wrong with my son?"
The doctor shook his head. "Dr. Isikaro, I think your son may have retrograde amnesia. It is not out of place given the trauma he had. But believe me, his case is a pure miracle. Most patients from failed suicide attempts usually have debilitating health challenges. Most who are rescued from hanging usually have their brain permanently damaged, such that they would need intensive care for the rest of their lives. So, I am still in shock that Jude not only came out from a month's coma, he is talking and moving his limbs. His loss of memory is the least of our problems."
The couple sighed in relief. The doctor said I should be allowed to rest and left the room. The couple sat quietly in the corner occasionally glancing at the bed. After some time, the woman came up to the bed. She was smiling.
"Jude nwa m. My son. I am overjoyed that you have woken up. Everyone had given up hope. Everyone, except me and your dad."
"You are not my mother. I don't recognise you."
She stroke my head. "Jude..."
"And stop calling me Jude! I am Judas. My father is Simon from Kerioth in Judea. My mother is Cyborea..."
The man stood up and shot me an angry look.
"Stop that! Will you?" He turned to the woman.
"Cecilia, allow the boy some time to rest. Maybe when he fully comes to, he would give me a good reason why a sixteen year old seminarian from a wealthy home will decide to hang himself over a girl!" He stormed out of the room.
His words stunned me. Sixteen years old? Seminarian? I looked down at my hands and feet. They were dark. Is this a new life or the continuation of my old one?I looked at the woman. She was dark-skinned and beautiful. She looked worried.
"Madam, I seriously think there has been a huge misunderstanding. First, I am not your son. Second, I am no seminarian. Yes, I tried committing suicide, but hung by accident. But it was not and can never be because of a girl! I was married in Judea with two children before the Messias called me..."
"You are still a teenager. You have never been married."
I shut my eyes in deep thought. These people are crazy! Something is definitely wrong.
"Jude, don't stress yourself. It will all come back to you. Again."
There was something calm and loving in her voice. In a way, she sounded like the Messias.
Three days passed. I had started eating and walking around. The food was different but tasted good. I stood by the window and looked into the street below. The world had changed completely. No camels or donkeys anywhere. There were moving boxes called 'cars'. It felt strange but strangely felt familiar. I asked Cecilia about Herod, Pontius Pilate and the Roman Empire. She laughed and told me they are all history.
"We are in the twenty-first century. The Messiah died more than two thousand years ago."
She gave me a book. "It may contain some answers."
It was the Christian scriptures. I opened the book eagerly. It had two parts. The old and the new testaments. The old testament felt very familiar. My eyes lit up.
"Christianity is just advanced Judaism," I said, as I flipped through the pages.
"How?" she asked.
"Your old testament is just the same as the Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim."
She looked surprised. "What are those?"
"The Pentateuch or books of Moses, the Prophets and the remaining writings."
"But we have the new testament as well."
I laughed. "That was the advancement."
I spent the whole night reading the new testament. The story of the Messias was looking scant. If only they knew all that He did! He was a phenomenon. None of the writers captured His loving eyes. Those eyes that spoke tons of love. I proceeded to the Acts of the Apostles. I froze at the first chapter.
I was replaced? With Matthias?
I closed the book and put it away, heart-broken.
The next morning, some boys came to visit me, dressed in a sort of uniform. They were led by a man in white overall. My 'mum' smiled as she introduced them.
"They are from your seminary. This is your Rector, Monsignor Adibe and your classmates."
I did not recognize any of their faces.
The Monsignor spoke. "We are glad that you are awake. We have been praying ceaselessly for your full recovery. God has finally answered our prayers." He turned to my 'mum'. "He was our Senior Prefect and our overall best student. He was outstanding in History, Liturgy and Latin."
She smiled proudly. The boys took turns to hold my hands.
"We missed you, Jude." The Rector's voice was laden with emotion.
"I told you that you were a seminarian," my 'mum' said, when they left. "You were an outstanding student. That was why this incident took everyone by surprise."
"But I don't know those people!" My confusion was doubled. I needed answers.
My 'mum' held me reassuringly. "Don't worry. Whether you are Judas or Jude, my love for you stays the same. I can't believe I was this close to losing you."
She was sobbing. I hugged her. I may not remember her, but her love for me was palpable.
"Just give me some time. Maybe I would remember."
That evening, my 'father' visited again. He looked relaxed and smiled at me as he entered.
"The Rector was here today, with some seminarians," my 'mum' told him.
"Oh! Good," he said. "I just pray they will take him back. Though, it seems very unlikely. I hope he has taken his afternoon medications?"
"Yes."
"Are they helping? Has he remembered?"
She shook her head.
He sighed. "Dr. Gbenga also said he may also have a Dissociative Identity Disorder, which may be as a result of the trauma. That may be why he sees himself as Judas Iscariot."
Just then, a girl appeared at the doorway. She looked happy to see me. Her caramel-coloured skin and beautiful face struck me as she approached the bedside. She smiled at me.
"Cynthia, my darling. Welcome," my 'mum' said as she embraced her. She greeted my 'parents', all the while looking at me in disbelief.
"I am so happy you are awake," she said, holding my hands.
I smiled. That was the most I could do in the midst of strange persons who expected me to remember them. I have stopped tasking my brain since it came up with nothing.
My 'mum' sent her to buy some fresh fruits. I watched her slender form walk gracefully out of the room.
"Who is she?" I asked my 'mum'.
She shook her head. "She is your 'supposed' girlfriend for whom you hung yourself. She was on her way to our house to see you when she got your text stating why you were dying. Her speed to break into the house and cut the rope on your neck is the reason why you are still here, breathing. She saved your life."
I opened my mouth to speak. No words came out.
JUDAS - PART 4
I stood at the door, hesitant to turn the knob. The surge of unknown persons staring strangely at me was becoming a huge burden. Suddenly, the door opened. I smiled.
"You have gone into hiding again, abi?"
It was my mum. She held my hand and led me into the living room. I was flustered.
"Your uncle wants to see you."
We greeted some of her lawyer friends as we passed. She was a young magistrate and an amiable woman.
My uncle was sitting with my dad at the balcony. We met Tessy at the door.
"Have you seen Cynthia? She was looking for you." She gave me a wink and left quickly to resume her food-sharing duties. I smiled. Tessy was my rebellious elder sister, a 300-level Economics undergraduate at the University of Nigeria. She was writing her semester exams in school when I woke up at the hospital and she came home soon after. She regaled me with stories of her battles with my dad, starting from when she chose to do Economics instead of Medicine. My dad had been furious. First, it was me going to the seminary against his wish. Then, Tessy choosing the well-worn path of demand and supply. She showed me all the albums containing the family photographs. I only saw images of strangers.
"Jude, Jude!" My uncle was smiling, a glass of wine in his left hand.
"Good afternoon, Sir." I stared at him intently, struggling to recollect. Nothing.
"Don't try so hard," he said, motioning me to sit. My dad excused himself and went inside with my mum to meet with some guests.
"I heard you were discharged from the hospital last week."
"Yes. I will be going for a check-up tomorrow."
"Any luck remembering any of these?" He motioned around the balcony.
I shook my head.
"I heard you woke up as Judas."
I nodded. "All I remember is my past life in Judea. Up until the suicide."
His brow narrowed. "You remember the suicide?" He looked around to make sure we were out of earshots. "I was told you hanged because of a girl."
I looked away. "I don't remember any of that. I mean, Jude's suicide. I recall vividly that I betrayed my Master. I expected Him to perform a grand miraculous escape. He didn't. He ended up dead. I could not bear it. I heard voices taunting and laughing at me. I tried to hang myself, but decided against it at the last minute. Unfortunately, I slipped and hanged."
"Sounds like schizophrenia to me. Jude, you are having delusions of grandeur."
"What is schizophrenia?"
"It is a form of mental disorder. Sufferers have hallucinations and delusions. They see things not really here and hear voices not really present. Are you still hearing the voices?"
"No. I just have occasional migraines and nightmares of hell."
"Hell?" His face went pale.
I held my head in my hands. "I was there. I will rather not talk about it."
I could feel my head throbbing just at the thought. Flashes of the cauldron of oil and cries of torment disturbed me.
"Jude stop!"
I opened my eyes. My uncle was sitting there, looking concerned.
"You were shaking your head vigorously. I think yours is a severe form of Post-traumatic stress disorder. I will come with you to the hospital tomorrow."
I thanked him and went inside. I walked straight to my room. Cynthia was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She was fifteen, a bookworm and too witty for her age. She went to a day secondary school and was preparing for her SSCE. She stood up as I entered.
"Where have you been?"
I sighed. "I was with my uncle at the balcony."
"You look stressed up," she said, taking my hands.
I nodded and sat at the edge of the reading table. My room was spacious, the red curtains filtering in just the right amount of sunlight. A wooden cabinet filled with books stood beside the wardrobe. There were stacks of books on the reading table.
"It is still very confusing, isn't it?" Her voice had a calming influence.
"Believe me, it is more than confusing. It is debilitating."
"I am the cause of all this." She looked away. There was sadness in her voice. "I was the reason you attempted to take your life."
I held her shoulders. "You know, I don't get it. I don't get it at all. What actually happened? You need to help me make sense of it all."
She looked at me, misty-eyed. "We have been friends for as long as I could remember. My mum works as a nurse in your dad's hospital. I think we must have met there as kids."
"So, we are just friends?"
She tried to suppress a laugh. "Well, technically, yes."
I feigned anger. She burst out in laughter.
"You are not helping!" I said, smiling.
"Okay. You asked me out last year but I told you to face your book and your God. You were a seminarian, for Christsakes!"
I listened on, amused.
"But we became very close friends. I was coming to the house, though, whenever you were on break. I enjoyed your company. It just broke my heart that it won't last. That we could never end up together."
"Towards the end of last year, however, something went wrong. You started sending me disturbing messages of how you were always thinking of me. How I had saturated your mind, blah blah blah..."
"I said all that?" I asked, laughing.
"Don't even get me started!" she fired back. "It was obvious you were obsessed. When I told you my plans of going to study Medicine in the University, you asked me if it was a ploy to dump you."
"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "I be correct mumu o!"
"One day, you called to say you were back. That you took a sick leave and came home just to see me. You invited me to come over. I refused. You came to my house. I refused to open the door for you. Then, you sent me this epistle of a text message of how we are irrevocably and intimately linked spiritually and supernaturally, of how you are going to prove it...you spoke a lot of grammar in the text message. I was coming to your house to warn you to stay away from me, when I got another text from you with just two words: Take Care.
"I hurried upstairs and met your room locked. I knocked and you did not respond. Then, I heard that blood-curdling, stiffled, choking scream. I ran back and came at the door with full force. It flew open. You were hanging, your eyes popping out, your tongue extruded. On your reading table was a knife, some rope, razor blades and containers of Valium. I grabbed the knife and cut you down and struggled to loosen the rope. Then, I called your dad."
Just then, the door opened and my dad entered.
"Jude, can I talk to you for a minute?" I excused myself from Cynthia and followed him to his room.
"I just got off the phone with your Rector, Monsignor Adibe."
My eyes lit up. I was scheduled to resume the following week.
"You have been expelled."
My heart sank.
JUDAS - PART 5
"Jude."
I turned. It was Dad, Dr. Isikaro. He was dressed in a white linen cloth, just like the Messias. He was approaching me.
"Come back," he said.
I shook my head, stepping forward. I staggered, struggling to regain balance.
The chasm beckoned.
"He who the gods want to kill, they first make mad." His voice was solemn. He was almost at the edge of the cliff, his arms outstretched.
I studied his features closely as he approached. He had a kind face. His hair had strands of white ones. But his eyes harbored pain.
He reached where I stood, smiled at me and patted me on the back.
"Go home," he said.
I turned from the edge and made to walk away.
"Jude!" It was a shriek. I whirled round to see his head disappearing below. I rushed to the edge but he was gone, a white linen cloth in the distance, receding in the chasm. I screamed in horror.
"Jude!"
I woke up with a start, soaked in my own sweat. Dad was at the door, staring at me.
"Another nightmare?" he asked, looking concerned.
I nodded.
"Did you take your drugs before bed?"
"Yes, I did."
"OK. Go back to bed. Remember we are going to your seminary tomorrow to see the Rector. Catch some sleep."
I laid down and waited to hear the sound of the door close before sitting up. I knew sleep would not come till morning. I paced the room thinking of what to do. Just then, my phone rang. Cynthia.
"What are you doing awake?" I asked, trying to keep my voice down.
"Studying, of course." She sounded very alert.
"At 2AM?"
"Yeah. It is the period I find very convenient. Everyone is asleep. No disturbance. What aren't you asleep?"
"I had a nightmare which woke me."
"Again?" There was a hint of concern in her voice. "What was it about?"
"Some weird stuff," I said. "We are going to the seminary today."
There was some silence at her end. "How are you taking the expulsion?"
I laughed. "I can't even recall being in that school. So to me, it is pure drama."
She laughed. "So, since you can no longer be a priest, have you decided on what to do with your life?"
"You mean besides marrying you?" Her laughter could be heard from my end of the line. I smiled. "Well, my dad wants me to consider studying Medicine to take over his hospital in the future but I am not interested."
"Well, na you sabi. You can go back to Galilee and be a fisherman."
I rocked back and forth in laughter. "That won't be a bad idea at all."
We chatted briefly about other things. Her parents and siblings. My hospital visits.
"You know, my case keeps baffling the doctors."
"How?" she asked.
"On one hand, they don't want to believe I am Judas. Yet, on the other hand, they cannot explain how I know the things I know like Aramaic, the entire geography of Jerusalem and Judea, the Torah."
"Maybe you are an alien, from Mars." She chuckled.
"I hope one day, when you become a great doctor, you will be able to uncover what really happened to me. Why do you study so hard by the way?"
"You just said it."
"What?"
"To become a great doctor."
I shook my head and wished her luck. Her ambitions amaze me.
A knock on the door woke me up. I had slept off on the seat after Cynthia's call. It was Mum. I greeted her. She looked at me in surprise.
"You are not even dressed yet! Don't you know that we are running late?"
I looked at the clock. 9 am. I showered quickly and dressed up.
Dad was waiting downstairs. We got into his black Landcruiser jeep and headed for the seminary.
The seminary was situated in serene part of the town away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Trees graced the large expanse of land, with the classrooms blocks lined in a row. The office block was behind the classrooms and as we passed, students looked out of their windows and whispers of 'Jude, SP' got to my ears. I figured SP was short for Senior Prefect. We met the Rector in his office. He smiled as he saw us and motioned us to seat. He handed me a letter.
"This is the most painful expulsion letter I have written in my twenty years as Rector. Jude, we wish you well in life."
"Thank you, Sir,"I said, standing to leave. I was indifferent. The drama was over.
We left the office as quietly as we came in.
We rode silently to Mum's court. We dropped her off and headed for Dad's hospital. I scrutinized his face as he drove.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"Yes. Just a little headache," he said, forcing a smile.
We soon reached the hospital and as he swerved into the parking lot, I knew something was amiss. The jeep overshot and hit the flagstone.
I looked at Dad and froze. He was slouched on the seat, eyes rolled up, motionless.
"Dad!" I shouted, but got no response.
I screamed for help. The nurses ran to the car with a wheelchair. We unfastened the seatbelt and took him inside the hospital.
There was a flurry of activities in the reception. A doctor was listening for his heartbeat and flashing a small torch into his eyes. I ran outside in panic and dialled Mum. Minutes later, she arrived and ran into the room.
"What happened?"she asked the doctor. "I was with him not quite long ago."
The doctor was compressing Dad's chest with his interlocked hands.
"He just slumped in the car. We are thinking he had a form of stroke. Was he hypertensive?"
"Yes, but I think he is on antihypertensive drugs."
Dad was still motionless. Minutes later, the doctor stopped. He felt Dad's wrist again.
"No pulse."
He listened to the heart again. "No heartbeat."
He turned to the nurse. "Pupils are already fixed and dilated. Time of death, 11:00AM."
As I stared disbelievingly at the lifeless man before me, the distant chimes of the clock as it struck for the eleventh hour broke my heart.
JUDAS - PART 6
The news spread like wildfire. People began trooping into the hospital. His patients. Friends. Fellow church members. A group was praying around the couch commanding him to rise. Loud 'Amens' escaped our lips. We waited. He did not stir. Tessy came in three hours later. I had called to tell her an hour after it happened. She rushed to the couch and grabbed Dad's body by the scruff of his collar.
"Daddy nkem! Nwoke oma! Doctor m! I know you are just sleeping. Just wake up, please! It is me, your beloved daughter. Please. Wake up. Wake up..."
Her voice trailed off as she broke down in sobs, hugging the body tightly. It took the combined strength of the doctor and I to pull her away.
"Jude. I am so sorry for your loss."
I turned. It was Cynthia. I felt hot tears escape from my eyes. She hugged me.
"My mum called as soon as it happened," she continued. "His death is a big blow to the whole Enugu. He was well known and well loved."
I pulled her aside. "Did you remember last night when you called? I told you I had a nightmare?"
"Yes?" There was a curious look in her eyes.
"I dreamt that he died. Fell from a cliff, actually."
"What?" She stared at me disbelievingly and looked around to make sure we were out of earshot. "Really?"
I nodded helplessly. "I feel very terrible..."
"Just stay strong, OK?" She held my hands. "It may just be a coincidence."
We returned to the room. She went to sit with Mum and tried consoling her.
By evening, crude reality began to sink in. Dr. Isikaro was gone. He would never wake up. On the way to the morgue, Tessy's voice could still be heard beckoning on Dad to answer her. We entered the compound and pulled up at the drive way. An attendant came to meet us. His face contorted in anguish as soon as he saw the body.
"Dr. Isikaro? I know him! He treated my daughter when she broke her leg. Chai! A very nice man." He shook his head sorrowfully. The doctor supplied him the remaining details he needed.
I helped them carry the body inside the morgue. The body was heavy. Tessy had latched on. Mum had to pull her hand away.
"He is gone. Let go." The sadness in her voice was heart-wringing.
As we entered the morgue, my heart stopped. In an instant, I was overwhelmed with the strange smell of the place and the sight of so many dead bodies. I felt dizzy.
"What's that smell?" I asked.
"Formalin," the attendant said, guiding us to where to lay the body. "It is used to preserve the dead."
We dropped him on a slab. The room was filled with corpses. Young. Old. Male. Female. All lying stiff. Motionless. Naked.
I quickly excused myself and ran out of the room, in search of fresh air. Once outside, I breathed in lungfuls. The irony of life stared me in the face. At death, we are all equal.
The doctor came out after some time. We entered the ambulance and drove home. A group of persons were waiting at the gate to pay their condolences. A condolence register was opened with Dad's portrait on the table, surrounded with flowers. Two of Mum's sisters came around to stay with us. We attended to the mourners till midnight. I wearily walked up the stairs, opened the door to my room and collapsed into the bed, totally exhausted.
I saw myself in a synagogue. A rabbi was at the bimah reading the Torah scroll. He was different, dark-skinned with grey hairs and white beard. I turned around. Sure, everyone was here. The Messias and the other eleven. I turned to James, the brother of John.
"Who is he?" I pointed at the Rabbi.
"Rabbi Kola," he said, in hushed tones. "A well-respected Rabbi from the West."
The Rabbi finished reading and the Messias was called on. He turned to me.
"Judas, follow me."
I looked at Him, confused.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. I was on a mountain. Three men were being nailed to the cross amidst taunts from the Chief Priests and Pharisees.
"Blasphemers! Renegades!" one Chief Priest, fumed.
The hammering of the nails and their cries were heart-wrenching.
I looked at the three men closely. I could not recognise the first. The loving eyes of the Messias met mine. He was the second man. The third man was dark-skinned and had grey hairs and white beard. My eyes lit up in recognition. Rabbi Kola!
The crosses were raised. I stood at the foot of the cross watching the Messias breath and His blood drop. After some time, some soldiers came with a big mallet and smashed Rabbi Kola's knees. I winced. His scream pierced the mid-afternoon air.
"Jude!"
I opened my eyes. It was Tessy.
"You were screaming. Are you alright?" She entered my room and sat down.
I was sweating profusely. "Sorry. Just a horrible dream. What time is it?"
"8.30 am. Mum said you should come down. One of Dad's friend, a Pastor, came to pray for us."
I washed my face hurriedly and went to the living room. I froze as I entered. Seated on the sofa, holding a big bible was the dark-skinned man with grey hairs and white beard.
"Pastor Kolawole, meet my son, Jude," Mum said as I entered.
I greeted him. He smiled.
"I came to pray for you when you were in coma. I am glad my God rescued you."
Mum's sisters joined in the prayers. Midway into the prayers, Pastor Kolawole began speaking in another familiar language. Aramaic! I opened my eyes to make sure it was not another dream. He was standing there, bible in hand, praising God in a language I happened to understand. A smile broke out on my face. He stopped abruptly and opened his eyes.
"There is evil in this room." His tone was commanding.
Everyone opened their eyes and looked around in fear.
"Brethren," he continued. "There is war! The spirit of death still hovers around this room."
I looked at Mum. There was fear in her eyes.
"Jude, come forth!"
Every eye in the room rested on me. I stepped forward, slowly.
The Pastor continued. "It was revealed to me that Dr. Isikaro's death was a ransom for yours. And death is not finished."
I felt uneasy and perplexed. Tessy was glaring at me angrily. Mum was looking confused.
"Jude, you need a serious deliverance session. I will go and prepare for it. I will be back next week."
I looked at him, shook my head and went back into my room. How could he say all those things about me? I dialed Cynthia and narrated the incident to her.
"Jude, you shouldn't have stormed out of the prayer like that."
"He was almost accusing me of killing Dad."
"Hmmm. Well, he sounds like a genuine man of God. You said you heard the strange tongue he spoke in during the prayers?"
"Yes. Aramaic. The language we spoke in Judea. I also dreamt about him last night."
"What?" There was shock in her voice. "You mean you saw..." The line went dead.
I had run out if airtime and was in no mood to leave the room.
I stayed in the room all day, reading the Psalms. Around 4pm, a loud bang on my door startled me. I could hear Tessy's angry voice outside.
"You evil boy! Open this door!"
I opened the door only to be greeted with a flurry of slaps. I held my pained cheeks in confusion, wondering what had come over my sister. She attacked me again. Mum drew her away.
"What is wrong with you?" I fumed. "Have gone mad?"
"You killed him!" She was boiling in rage.
"Who?" I asked, surprised.
"Pastor Kolawole. He died in a car accident at Asaba as soon as he left here. You killed him! Evil boy!"
I raised my hands to my head, my mouth gaping. I made to speak. No words came out. Tessy's rants faded into the distance as I sat at the edge of the bed. I was at a complete loss.
JUDAS - PART 7
I was in the car with Uncle Obi, on our way to make arrangements for the Service of Songs that evening. He had been in the country for a week and assisted Mum in making the burial plans. He slowed the car as we approached a traffic light.
I scratched my head. "Uncle, they are nightmares. More like. And they come true."
"How?" His face tightened. The traffic light turned green. We made a right turn into Ogui road and sped down.
"First, I saw Dad fall off a cliff. He died the next day. Two weeks ago, I saw a rabbi die by crucifixion. The next day, the Pastor that came to pray for us, had an accident on his way back and died. The same man I saw in the dream."
His brow narrowed in confusion. "Don't you think they were mere coincidences, these dreams and the happenings?"
"I would love to think so. But something within tell me they are not. There is this very bad feeling I have during those nightmares. A terrible feeling I can't put into words."
He shook his head slowly, looking straight at the road. "In all my years as a Psychiatrist, I have never come across a case like yours. There is actually no empirical evidence linking these dreams to these deaths."
I was silent. The events of the previous two weeks had shook me. Tessy had launched a full-scale war on me and called me all sorts of names. She kept noticeable distance from me. I entered the living room one morning. Mum was drawing up a list with her sisters, Aunty Nneka and Oby. Tessy was sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine. She stood up abruptly, as I entered, and made to leave.
"Tessy! Come back here! What is wrong with you? Ehn?" Mum hollered.
"I don't want this boy to come near me. I don't want to die yet."
I glared at her. She had been acting that way since Pastor Kola's death. Mum had forbade her to mention my name in connection with the deaths. She resorted to another tactics.
"You know you are being very unreasonable," I said, trying to sound calm.
"Ehn! Evil boy!" she said, clapping her hands. "Just dey your lane, i nugo?"
"Mum! I hope you all saw her abuse me, calling me names. I will slap her o!" I shook my hand in anger.
Mum held me where I stood. "Don't mind her, you hear? We will find a way to sort this out. Dad's death hit her so hard..."
I was still furious. "She should get a handle on herself. If she tries that nonsense again! Hmmm..." I turned and stomped up the stairs.
Uncle Obi came in from the States that evening and quickly noticed the tension. I had told him about the dreams on the phone and he brought me a copy of Sigmund Freud's 'Interpretation of Dreams'.
That night, he called Tessy and me into his room.
"You know, I don't understand this fight between you two. I know my brother raised responsible kids. That's why I don't understand this."
His gaze shifted from me to Tessy and back to me. I looked at Tessy. She was looking at the floor. I looked at the ceiling.
"Whatever it is, just drop it. Let this be the last of it. The Isikaro family is passing through a hard time. Don't make it harder."
We nodded and left the room. That was a week ago. Tessy is yet to talk to me.
The car pulled up at a compound. A white duplex stood adjacent to the parking space and the entrance said boldly 'Grace Events.' We sat at the air-conditioned reception. The receptionist dialed the manager, who came down to receive us.
"I got your payment. Dr. Obi Isikaro?" He looked up from his tablet.
"Yes. The Service of Songs is this evening. The burial is tomorrow and continues the next day. You got the address?"
"Sure. We will be there. I heard the State Governor will be coming," the manager said with a smile.
"Yes. He was my late brother's classmate. I was classmates with his younger brother so the families are kinda close."
We got some items from the market before heading home.
"Did Freud's book help?"
I shook my head. "My dreams are different from the ones he described. My dreams feel very real."
The Service of Songs went on smoothly. Tessy and I were clad in white, flanking Mum. During the service, I learnt a lot about the man who I came to call Dad.
"We are all witnesses to the number of lives he touched and his innumerable achievements at the young age of forty-five," the Priest said. "We should all learn to confront our mortality. And live each day like it is our last."
Suddenly, the voice sounded distant. I heard the sound of clinking coins and looked around. I was lying in a courtyard, surrounded by countless pieces of silver. More coins fell. I followed the stream of coins up. Apparently, someone was pouring them from the balcony. I struggled to my feet and made for one of the rooms. I saw a maid carrying a jar of water. I followed her. She was walking fast. I caught hold of her linen cloth. She turned, visibly angry.
"Shlamlek," I greeted. "Please, where is this place?"
"The Governor's court. Are you a Galilean?"
"No. I am from Judea."
"And you don't know the court of the Governor, Pontius Dike?" She shook her head and left.
I stood at the passage confused. Then, I heard footsteps. I ran into the adjacent room. It was dimly lit and had a table and some barrels at one end. I hid behind one of the barrels. A man entered, carrying a tray. He set the tray on a table and rushed to bolt the door. My heart pounded where I crouched. I watched him. On the tray, was a beautiful golden chalice. He fetched wine from a gourd and poured into the cup. He looked around and produced a small bottle from inside his clothes. He poured a little into the chalice and shook it gently.
The sound of a coin hitting the ground startled me. He stopped abruptly and looked around. My heart skipped a beat. A stupid coin had stuck to my skin and chosen the wrong time to fall off. I watched him with trepidation as he approached the barrels.
"Joses! Where is the wine?" a voice called, from a distance.
He turned quickly, carried the tray and left.
I heaved a sigh of relief and stood up. I kicked the accursed coin angrily and emerged at the hallway, hiding in the shadows. I saw Joses at the end, passing a door, guarded by two Roman soldiers.
I knew I could go no further. It was the Roman Governor's palace and strangers were not allowed.
The door was open. I saw Joses hand the chalice to the Governor.
"No!" I screamed inwardly. The Governor, raised the cup to his lips and drank. Joses hurriedly left the room. Minutes later, the Governor jerked forward, vomitting blood. The soldiers rushed into the room. Within a short while, he was still, his head thrown aback in a grotesque fashion. I screamed.
"Jude!" I felt a hand hit me on the thigh. It was Mum. "Stop!"
Everyone was looking at me, including the Priest. Apparently, I had screamed aloud. I hung my head in shame. After the service, Uncle Obi came to where I sat and asked me to come with him. I followed him into the house. There were people in the living room. I avoided their eyes as we walked up to my room.
"Why were you screaming? Another dream?"
I nodded. "You said the Governor would be coming tomorrow. What is his name?"
"Dr. Emeka Dike. What's the problem?"
"I dreamt about him. We have to call and warn him."
Uncle Obi laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Jude, it was just a dream." His phone rang. He stepped out to answer the call.
Just then, Cynthia entered the room.
"I heard you scream out there. Are you alright?" she asked.
I shook my head. "Another nightmare. We need to warn the Governor."
She looked amused. Then, she realized I was dead serious.
"That's worrying. How are we going to warn him? How are we even going to get close to him? No one will ever believe a dream!" She was pacing the room. I watched her in silence.
Uncle Obi entered the room, his face pale. I knew something was wrong.
"It's too late." His voice harbored a deep sadness.
"What?" I asked, surprised.
"The Governor. I just got off the phone with his younger brother. He died of leukaemia an hour ago, in India."
I slumped to the ground, distraught. Cynthia ran to where I sat, holding me. Tears welled up in my eyes. A terrible sense of loss and despair enveloped me. Laying my head on her shoulder, I cried.
***
©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.
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