James Scindhia
By Amara Usulor
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James Scindhia - Amara Usulor
THIRTEEN
FROM THE AUTHOR
With the exception of Chandigarh, Punjab, India, Nigeria, main market Onitsha, sun, city hotel and Calabar, other names of persons and places used in this book and the role played by respective characters are purely fictitious and I regret resemblance of any known person.
The author,
Amarachi Usulor C.
CHAPTER ONE
James still could not believe that just a little slip could make him fall. ‘What sort of soil is this?’ he mumbled, despite the fact that he knew its fine sand. He got up, wiped his handsome face, and looked at his coat and the luggage he held firmly with his left hand. He turned pale in anger felt disgusted at the sight of the dirt that now covered his pants and coat. The one that drove him nuts was his boots, it is not just worn out but dirty as well. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of the onlookers; they were all fixed mockingly on him ‘’hell no!’’, he exclaimed and blushed. ‘I cannot believe am all messed up’, he mumbled again and made his way through the throng in the market ‘Is this not the almighty main market?' he blurted out doubt-founded. He sighed and began to wonder relevantly on how to reach his destination in order to stop feeling like a miserable wanderer. The thought of looking at the piece of paper in his pants’ pocket crept into his dull mind. He dug dip his left hands into it and brought out the folded piece on which the address of his destination was boldly written. He turned to ask anyone trading in one of the stores around but bumped into a pudgy black guy who looked nice. The pudgy guy, whose huge lips made him quite ugly, was about to nudge him out of the busy way which had no space for anyone standing still. 'Am so sorry for that', James apologized.
'It’s aright' the dark guy answered
'I was just thinking of where to find the so called Emiker Ofor plaza', he said, looking into the rough paper.
'I’m sorry I don’t understand what you're saying' the guy returned politely in an adulterated English. James tried to repeat the address but the guy caught him short.
'Hand over the paper to me', the guy said softly. With all pleasure, James proffered the paper to him, hoping deep down that the strange black guy knows his destination.
'Emeka ofor plaza is just a stone thrown from here. Go down and at the extreme, take the left direction'
'Thanks buddy. You’ve just saved me a huge stress'
'You welcome and make sure you keep a close eye on your luggage'
'Ok. Thanks buddy, you’ve been a great help'
'Welcome'
James forged ahead as the black guy directed. Although he was exhausted, he walked as fast as his legs can carry. Without hesitation, he dialed Alfred’s number, which he had been trying since he got to the market but all to no avail. Had it been he got Alfred’s number earlier on, he would not have been so down. What a bad day, he thought. Just as the black guy had instructed, James took the left direction when have got down at the T-junction. He felt greatly relieved on knowing he was almost there. He could remember that the pieces of paper his coat’s pocket stated clearly the number of the building where he could find Alfred. Out of fear of losing his luggage, he did not bother to ask any of the people around. To him, all of them were scary he began to look up at the building in search of number four. He walked pass two buildings that had number one and two written on them respectively. With smiles, he hurried away to the next building where his cell phone rang. He tucked his left hand into his pocket and anxiously brought out it out. Alas! It was