She beckoned me to sit quietly as she locked the door. I picked up one of the pictures and looked at the three people in it. "My father. That's him in the middle" she said with a kind of nostalgia that almost brought tears to my eyes. I looked at her, she had turned somewhat red. She continued, her voice far away, "One day he went to buy some liquor. He never came back. Mommy says he's a bastard, but I know he'll be back one day. I know... I know" her voice trailed off, as she held back tears. I stood up, not accustomed to this sort of situation.
"So where is your mother?" I asked. The girl pointed at a door that looked like it was made from Iroko-tree wood. I walked cautiously to the door and placed my ear on it, so as to hear anything going on inside. My heart beat fast. BOOM! Something crashed against the door and I found myself running towards the other side of the room. I had to check to see that I hadn't wet my pants, which would have been embarrassing, but not entirely unaccounted for.
Oh yeah, if you had heard the sound, you, my friend, might just have leaked. My voice began to shake, as I could hear a deep growl from within the room. "Look young girl, I can't do this. I'm not the one supposed to do this. My brother is, but he's not here, so we'll just have to wait till he gets back." I hurried to open the door and leave but her voice held me in place. "Mommy will kill herself before then," her voice was full of a resoluteness that assured me she was telling the truth. I turned around to look at her. She had slumped on the ground and was sobbing silently.
At her side, a crumpled picture of her mother, father and self lay unobtrusively. I couldn't bring myself to leave. "What about the child-protection people?" I asked softly, but I knew the answer as soon as I asked. They would take her mother away, and she'd be all alone. That's what the young girl was afraid of. She didn't want to be alone. I walked back in and sat down beside her. She rested her head on my shoulder, still sobbing. "Don't worry, young girl," I placed my arm around her, "we'll solve this."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The door pounded heavily. The girl crouched behind me and I found myself praying severely. The fervent and effectual prayer of a righteous man availeth much, I had heard my brother say, and though I wasn't righteous, the fervency with which I prayed was certainly effectual enough to warrant attention from Heaven. I stood up. "Ok young girl, let's sing choruses. Sing after me. "On de montain, in de valley, on de land, and in de sea...hallelujah" We started an inspiring revival session, to be envied even by the true Pentecostals.
I continued my preacherly duties. "For God so loved the world. That he gave his only gun. That whosoever wanted to enter the kingdom of God cannot pass through the eye of a camel" I was butchering the scriptures, but the pounding was not subsiding. I led my congregation in another song: "Higher higher higher higher higher, higher! When the going is going good, many many people will be your friend..." No that was not quite right. That wasn't a religious song.
BOOOOOOOM! The door came crashing down and in a split micro-second the possessed woman tore to the entrance of the house and faced us. There was no other exit. For some reason, the song "Baby Kilode" surfaced in my brain at such an odd time as that. It was a strange sensation. I looked at the woman, her hair (what was left of it) was a mess. Her eyes were, I kid you not, flaming red, and she was foaming at the mouth.
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