Flashback
About a thousand years ago,
In ancient China.
A young greek woman, clad in priestess robes, panted heavily as she ran for her life.
"Master would kill me if I lost this!" she thought, glancing at the bundle under her arm, as she remembered the last time she saw him, the day he gave her the bundle.
But there was no time to reminisce over her master's majestic physique; she dodged in time to prevent an arrow from pinning her to the tree.
"Demons!" she mentally screamed, increasing her speed as she meandered through the forest.
"I thought the Master said there was a portal around here," she panted.
Her heart sank when she skidded to a halt by the edge of a high cliff.
She was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea...literally!
"Give it up, dearie..." an ugly demon hissed, inching towards her. "You have nowhere to go."
She said nothing, for she had just noticed a whirlwind in the water, unknown to them.
Defiantly, she continued to inch towards the edge as more demons emerged from the woods.
"What are you doing?" their commander screamed, seeing that she refused to surrender.
Taking a deep, determined breath, she muttered a short prayer before leaping into the waters below.
The Demon Warlord's cry still rang in her ears as the water engulfed her.
"Noooooooooooo!"
2022,
ECWA Goodnews Church, Lokoja,
Kogi State, Nigeria.
Sunday, February 13,
7:15 AM
"Angel?"
I groaned, trying to capture the image that had been haunting me for several weeks...
"Angel?"
It was always the same: I fought on a battleground near a cliff, saved my friend - whose face was blurry - but got stabbed by a flying dagger and fell into the ocean, drowning in the process.
"Angel?"
"C'mon, I'm almost done..." I grunted, slightly unperturbed.
"Angeline?!"
I quickly came down from my creative plane, stuffing my sketch pad in my Bible as I sprang to my feet.
I knew I was in for it as I shuffled towards Mrs. Gideon, who was standing akimbo with a glare to match.
"Ma'am?"
"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be with your mates outside getting instructions from Mrs. Jones?" she asked, eyeing me like I was something vile the cat had dragged in.
She doesn't look too bad for a large, dark lady, and, to be honest, I don't look too bad with my bright, dark brown eyes, smooth milk-honey skin, and shoulder-length hair tightly bound in my head tie.
Mrs. Gideon is the Assistant Children's Church Coordinator, hot-tempered, strict as they come, and tougher than nails.
As the epitome of all choleric Nigerian mothers, I needed to handle this situation with care before this dormant volcano became active.
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"Yes, ma... My mother sent me earlier, but after I delivered the message, she said I should stick around, just in case she has more errands for me to run," I said, half-truthfully.
The church was chaotic today because we were setting up for the first of our three fundraisers of the year.
My mum is an event decorator, so obviously, they put her in charge of the decorations.
My siblings and I have been running up and down nonstop. I had just ditched my mum and sat down in the pew to take "a little break" when Mrs. Gideon caught me.
"Oh... in that case, just go. I'll tell her where you've gone."
"Thank you, ma!" I said, relieved I got away with it - for now.
I curtsied a little and scurried away, clutching my Bible to my chest.
My church is divided into two sections: Adult Church and Children or Junior Church.
The adult congresses in the Main Hall, while the Children's Church comprises the two smaller buildings behind.
Junior Church is further subdivided into four classes: Teenagers' class for teens or kids aged 12-18; Intermediate class for kids aged 11-7; Self-Control class for kids 7-4, and Toddlers' class for tots or kids aged 4-1.
I graduated from the Adult Church last month, but since we were expecting a large number of visitors, Mum signed me up to help out in the Junior Church.
"Oh great, there goes my break!" I thought as I stepped aside to allow some elders to pass through the main entrance.
I focused on my legs as I came down the stairs. It's not my first time wearing heels, but it won't be the last time I've tripped because of them.
I soon found my mates, gathered around a pretty young,short, and plump fair lady who was calling names.
"Angel...Angel. Where is she?" Mrs. Jones asked, in her high voice, looking around for me.
"Present, Ma'am!" I said, carefully weaving forward.
"Oh good, you're here!" she beamed in relief.
"You, Uyo, and Sam are in charge of the Self-Control Class." She said, handing one Teachers' Manual to me. "They are in Week 8...oh, before I forget, you also need to wait behind for our visitors to arrive so that you can usher their children to their respective classes."
With that, she handed me a Guest list.
I silently studied the list as she continued dishing out responsibilities, excited to see a lot of foreign names. Going down the list, a name stood out from the rest.
It was like... calling out to me. Like it had a connection with me...
"Long Arthur Baidi..." I read aloud.
"Oh, him? He's a good man!" said Mrs. Jones. "He's one of our church's most consistent donors in America and a very religious man. Even though he's filthy rich, he's a very generous philanthropist."
I didn't know why, but the name rang a bell. It stirred something within me, something powerful, something I had to hide...but I couldn't lay my finger on it.
I was still lost in my thoughts when Mrs. Jones dismissed us. I pushed my thoughts to the back of my mind as my partners joined me. Just then, a loud screech outside the gates alerted us, and I looked in time to see three dark, gleaming news vans parking outside the gate. It had red, strangely familiar characters blazoned on it...Chinese!
Suddenly, I got a wave of déjà vu when I tried to decipher it. I'm not sure, but I felt the characters meant... Dawn!
"DAWN...What a name to give a news station!" I thought, still wondering how I was able to read it.
I just shrugged and started catching up on the excitement I had missed during yesterday's Youth Night as Sam, Uyo, and I went to where we had been posted.
A bit bored, I began to hum the English lyrics to one of my favorite songs in "Journey to the West", titled "Monkey King's Journey" (the Hóu Wáng De Lǚ Xíng):
[Verse 1]
In the clouds, I wander free
A monkey's heart, wild and carefree
With staff in hand, I roam the land
Seeking truth, with no fixed plan
[Chorus]
Journey to the West, a path so long
Monkey King's story, forever strong
Through trials and tests, I find my way
To Buddha's land, where dawn breaks day
[Verse 2]
With Pigsy, Sandy, and Horse by side
Together we face, the demons' tide
Tang Sanzang's heart, guides us through
To reach the West, our dreams anew
[Chorus]
Journey to the West, a path so long
Monkey King's story, forever strong
Through trials and tests, I find my way
To Buddha's land, where dawn breaks day
[Outro]
The journey ends, yet memories stay
Monkey King's spirit, forever sway
In the clouds, I wander free
A monkey's heart, wild and carefree.
As I ended the song, I shuddered at the eerie feeling of being watched and hastened my pace to enter the class, muttering a silent prayer for a normal day.
But little did I know that this was the last 'normal' day I was ever going to have.
