Dial - Season 2 - Episode 63

4 years ago

Dial - Season 2 - Episode 63

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I was too weak, due to the forced old age, to react in any way.

If I had had the strength of my youth and the skills of my GojuFist, I would have broken this uncouth and absolutely wicked man into two without remorse.

How could any man think he could behead another when the urge struck him? This was a cruelty that defied the rationale of right-thinking people. I struggled feebly, gripped by equal portions of fury and fear.

The knife scraped across my throat, and that awful man pressed a hand on my forehead to still my shaking head so that he could cut off my head.

As I felt the uncomfortable and painful edge of the knife steadying on my throat, and realized I was about to suffer a most undignified death, I thought of Abena Adobea, my Maa Abena, a woman of my heart.

How was she going to survive this? How was she going to live this down? Oh, dear…how could this be happening when I could have been in her arms, sharing the last hours of my life instead of being decapitated like a d--n cow at the abattoir?

I was aware of movement to my right, and then an elderly lady with plaited grey hair put a hand on the man holding the knife to my neck. She spoke to him rapidly in their language, and I saw the man scowling darkly.
He took a step back and spoke harshly to the woman, who replied him with vigorous nods.

The man looked at me with his head to one side as I gulped in air and stared balefully at him.

“Aboa bi ba!” I said furiously, but my voice was old, and so it came out like a squeak. I felt the warm blood still seeping from the cut in my throat and soaking the collar of my shirt.
He pointed the knife at me.
“Wait a second,” he said, still scowling. “This man who called himself by my name, this other Nana b0s0mba you spoke of…describe him to me!”
“He’s old, has thick grey hair, bead, moustache…medium-built, handsome, likes wearing smocks, deep calm voice, and loves green apples!” I said weakly.
“Green apples!” he shouted, suddenly alarmed, and then he quickly put the knife in its scabbard, took out his handkerchief, and took out a large red handkerchief which he quickly pressed against my throat and tied it around the back of my neck.

And then he spoke quickly in his native tongue, and the people all around began to speak excitedly, almost fearfully.

He gave another command, pointing to a man behind me. There was a commotion of sorts, and presently the man appeared with a framed picture in his hands. He gave it to the man calling himself Nana b0s0mba, who showed me the picture.