“Oga, park!”
When our driver excused himself to the side of the road, skipped the ‘pocket dip and fist squeeze’ ritual and landed on smiling at the monkey faced police man, It explained why he’d been driving like a six year old; clinging to the steering like a virgin to his new bride. It was definitely his first time on the road.
The police man who had come body to body to the car, stepped a few inches away and readjusted his cap and stance to bark.
“Step out of the vehicle! Come and open your boot!”
"I'm in soup” I heard him mutter. I was in the place of the vegie in sandwich- squezzed in between him and the bald man who kept dozing off, dumping the trouble of his shiny head on my shoulder.
I watched the driver’s face turn pink, and could tell he was considering shedding tears.
“Oga, I said ‘come down’!” The police man yelled again, deepening his gigantic wrinkles.
"Sir, please I can't come down. My papers are complete. Here, I have them. Take a look." He lectured, arms extended, submitting the documents to the uninterested police officer, who at the point was swinging the balls of frustration and confusion, and what seemed like a tough decision to keep his cap on.
"Please sir, I can't.” The baby driver of not more than 20, kept quoting.
"Oga driver, you sort this make we de go nau. Answer him let's be on our way, abeg. " An angry woman, vomited from the back. I checked fat and very busty for her.
"Madam, I can't. I have a situation. The driver replied, starting to lose his temper.
Left for me, had I the #100 standard sorting fee, I would have given it to the police man so we'd be on our way. It had already been tagged ‘my second worst highway nightmare.’
About one hour into the journey, we were greeted by the most appalling smell my nose ever kissed, and I could have sworn I perceived it the most. It smelt like the insides of a 5-day old rotten rat that died eating fish.
Questions were asked, fat and unkempt people were suspected but everyone left it at that.
I was already feeling light headed and nauseous, plus we still had about three more hours to go.
The police man placed his cap back on, and helped the driver open the door.
“You criminal! My friend, match down now! Take those fake papers away from my face. I'm not looking at anything. Show me what you are hiding in this vehicle.”
Our driver broke into tears and began to plead. He kept shifting his knee like he wanted to bend them, while sitting down.
My nervousness gave way to fear. Why wouldn't he leave his seat? Could he be a suicide killer? Did he have a bomb under his pants? Scary thoughts began to birth even scarier ones.
I was dragged back to reality by a familiar unfamiliar sound- the uncorking of a gun.
The police man's vexation was done twerking. Looking at him, I could tell he'd lost his mind. This dark lips from smoking turned pit black and his eyes looked more evil.
"Hey! Sunny! Sunny wait. What's going on there!?
He didn't answer his own thoughts let alone his fellow police men's call.
It happened all too quickly. Too fast for just two of my balls. The driver jumped out of the vehicle, aimed for the bush, a trail of disgusting yellow muss after him.
I saw the bullet leave it's home, making its way to the middle of his back. Baby driver fell on his face.
The outburst of Soprano and Mezzo-soprano unharmonic rhythms in the moments that followed, tarnished any possibility of me passing it all off as a dream.
I didn't scream. I didn't blink. I still haven’t…
