Mom was driving me to school in her brand-new Toyota SUV, a car that Dad had recently gotten for her.
Mom’s love for cars can never be overrated, but as I listened to her never-ending stories about her high school days as she drove I realized that my mom’s love for education was stronger than her passion for cars.
We arrived at the school parking lot, and she parked the car before giving me a hug, a hug that I had grown accustomed to.
Then, as if hesitant to speak, she said, “Big bear, Mommy loves you to the moon and beyond.”
“I love you too,” I replied, taking the opportunity to break away from her embrace.
Stepping out of the car, I didn’t wait to watch her drive away; I continued my journey on foot.
My mom honked to catch my attention, which was her way of giving me a final goodbye.
I turned back, saw her smiling, and, as usual, couldn’t help but smile back as I waved goodbye before heading to school.
After the morning assembly, it was business as usual…
The teachers took turns teaching their classes, except for Mr. Smart, the Basic science teacher who had been absent for over a week. Rumors among the students suggested that he had found a better job than teaching.
Such departures from teaching weren’t uncommon; many teachers saw teaching as a stepping stone to their dream jobs.
“Thank goodness Mr. Smart landed his dream job,” I muttered to myself as I wrestled with the challenging mathematics problems assigned by Mr. Dave, our math teacher.
Thankfully, I was almost done, and I didn’t regret using break time to work on the Math problems. Staying in the classroom during breaks was my strategy to keep the formulas fresh in my mind.
According to the Tuesday timetable, Math was before the break.
I was brought back to reality by a tap on my shoulder from Yemi.
“Sam, I just realized that Frank still hasn’t returned from Mr. Smart’s house. We have English as the first subject tomorrow, and my English note is with him.”
English was a subject I found relatively easy, but our teacher, Mrs. Mary, was known for her strictness. She didn’t tolerate excuses.
Thankfully, I excelled in her class, all thanks to my mom who helped me at home. Dad was the Mathematician in our family, while Mom excelled in English.
I could see frustration on Yemi’s face, and I could guess what he was thinking.
“Mrs. Mary will be furious if you can’t give her the note, ” I chimed in, breaking the silence.
“I’m in big trouble,” Yemi sighed.
Yemi and I were the same age—both 12 years old. We’ve been classmates since we joined Royal High School, but I wouldn’t call us best friends. Not that I didn’t like Yemi, but I wasn’t great at maintaining friendships.
As we headed into our second year, I still hadn’t asked Yemi why he was a day student since the school ran a boarding section. My mom never allowed me to board; she saw it as a waste when she could take care of me.
Glancing back at Frank’s empty seat, I wondered what must have made Frank not to have returned from Mr. Smart’s house.
As a boarding student, Frank usually stays with Mr. Smart, whenever he falls sick. Mr. Smart was like a guardian to Frank.
According to Frank, his father, Sir Dave had authorized the school to allow him to stay with Mr. Smart because he was like a family friend to his parents. Beside, he could only travel back to home to Port Harcourt at the end of every term.
“What are you going to tell Mrs. Mary?” I asked, trying to figure out a solution.
“I don’t know. I’m doomed,” Yemi replied, his anxiety evident.
Suddenly, Nathan entered the classroom, another day student like us. He saw the worry on Yemi’s face and asked what was going on. So, I explained the situation.
“Yemi, I know what you can do to get your note back,” He said.
“What?” Yemi’s eyes brightened.
“Let’s visit Frank,” Nathan replied. Yemi quickly agreed, I believed he never considered the consequences. His desperation was obvious and I had to agree to the plan even though I knew the cost.
Later, as Nathan’s driver drove us to Mr. Smart’s house, I silently prayed that my mom wouldn’t show up to pick me up too soon. Nathan assured us that we had enough time to get to Mr. Smart’s house and return before our parents arrived.
Mr. Smart, according to Nathan, lived in a duplex owned by his friend who was overseas.
It was risky, but the idea of getting Yemi’s notebook back sounded like an adventure.
We arrived at Mr. Smart’s place and Nathan went ahead to check if he was home. Immediately he signaled, Yemi and I followed cautiously.
Pushing the door open, we were met with a chilling sight. Frank’s lifeless, mutilated body lay on the floor, his eyes and private parts missing.
I’ve never felt this terrified in my life; not even a horror movie could evoke such fear. The sight of Frank’s lifeless, mutilated body sent a chilling shiver down my spine.
Nathan’s driver touched Nathan, and he screamed, while Yemi and I almost jumped out of our skin. Nathan bolted away, leaving us behind. Nathan’s driver, without asking questions, headed toward the source of our distress.
He got into the house and instructed us to return to the car while he assessed the situation.
It seemed he wanted to ensure our safety while he determined if the perpetrator was still in the vicinity.
Yemi and I got back to the car, only to discover that Nathan had locked the doors from within. I knocked on the door, urging him to let us in, which he did in fear. Inside, I secured the door, and before long, Yemi’s shock turned into tears. While I was equally affected, crying wasn’t my way of processing emotions.
Nathan’s driver returned and entered the car, using his car key to unlock the driver’s side. He got in and informed us that we were heading back to school. Nathan protested, desperately wanting to go home, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
In no time, we were back at school, a journey that took a fraction of the time it usually did due to the lack of traffic. Curiously, I inquired about the possibility of someone coming to remove Frank’s body, and the driver assured me he had secured the gate and locked Mr. Smart’s apartment, this provided a small sense of relief.
Back home, it was already 10:30 pm, and I could hear my mom talking to Dad on the phone. For the first time, sleep eluded me as I dreaded the thought of seeing Frank’s body again.
Mom was explaining to Dad why I needed to go to school the next day, though Dad seemed less inclined to agree. Eventually, the two of them reached a consensus, as they always did.
The following day, I returned to class, still haunted by the image of Frank’s lifeless body. The news of his gruesome death had spread like wildfire, and the once-vibrant atmosphere at school had transformed into a somber one. The incident had cast a shadow over Royal High School.
As we tried to return to some semblance of normalcy, a serious investigation began. The school introduced new rules, attempting to restore order amid the unsettling environment. We were all under heightened scrutiny, and the weight of the tragedy hung over us.
During this period, various individuals were summoned for questioning, and the school buzzed with hushed whispers and rumors. The police presence was palpable, and the air was heavy with tension.
Despite the uncertainty and fear, life moved forward. Mr. Victor, the principal, made efforts to maintain a sense of stability, but the undercurrent of unease persisted.
As the weeks went by, Mr. Smart’s sudden disappearance remained a mystery, leaving everyone to speculate about his involvement in Frank’s murder.
One Thursday, as I focused on my math problems during break, a memory resurfaced—something Frank had shared with me. It was a story Mr. Smart had told about a remote village in Cameroon, a neighboring country. Could this village hold a clue? I immediately informed the principal, who relayed the information to the police.
Weeks later, news arrived that Mr. Smart had been apprehended in Cameroon and returned for questioning. Rumors circulated that he denied any involvement in the crime, but doubts lingered.
As the investigation unfolded, Yemi, Nathan, and I grew closer, united by the traumatic experience. Despite the horror we had witnessed, we found solace in our bond.
But then, an unexpected twist emerged. The real perpetrator was apprehended—Frank’s cab driver not Mr. Smart. The truth unveiled the shocking extent of greed that had led to Frank’s tragic death. Mr. Smart, once under suspicion, was exonerated and set free.
Frank’s life had been cut short due to the cab man’s greed to gain wealth using voodoo. The incident left an indelible mark on all of us, forever altering our perception of the world.
