CHAPTER 5

    Doctor Franklin couldn’t take his eyes from the glowing violet text scrawled across the paper. Doctor Franklin couldn’t believe his eyes as the violet text was not on the paper when he put it in the safe box, “maybe the paper was made to be this way”. The professor’s final communication to any person who saw the paper.

   The message read: 

   The eagle and chicken story, the blinded truth of the known symbol of the nation, 7 and7.

  Although the doctor had no single idea what it really meant, he did understand that the professor was up to something which led to his murder.

   “The eagle and chicken story”

        The professor had left an invisible symbol. Equally as bizarre was the number on it. “7 and 7” the belief that this number had a secret to reveal was nothing to doubt. The professor was very intelligent to get his information across the right people. Doctor Franklin had the belief that the number might be the hotel number of the person who killed him, but the name of the hotel should have appeared on the paper too, there was no name of any hotel or hostel on it. Doctor Franklin again looked at the digits, sensing it will take him sometime to get to know what it was. To the doctor, the number looked totally simple but complicated to get any understanding from it.

 

But due to his knowledge of symbols, these numbers where accustomed to symbolic progression that made some semblance of sense, but everything here- the number, the text- seemed disparate at the most fundamental level. For a moment the doctor thought everything was a monogram of some sort. But later realized that the professor was up to something that will throw the population of Ghana ablaze. This bizarre communication obviously did not fit the doctor’s knowledge in symbols.

          

The eagle and the chicken story, the blinded truth of the known symbol of the nation.7and 7.

Doctor Franklin tried to imagine the professor’s last communication to the existing humans. It seemed not logical as to why the professor will leave information in such a stupid and complicated way. Doctor Franklin realizing the dash of hot adrenalin in him took a seat. As he meditated over the inscription on the paper, he came to realize that the people who actually murdered the professor were not as professional as thought.

“But what if he was not hiding anything from anyone, but wanted the smart people to handle the case” the doctor spoke to himself as he sat on the sulfa.

 “My job is not to break the code in this if there is even any; I have to visit my friend to see if he can help me out.”  

Most strange of all was why he left a piece of paper with the sign of the Coat of Arms on it, with an inscription. Doctor Franklin remembered that it was possible to access the brain of a dead person, because the cells where still active for only eight minute and another reverse if the process was not successful. Immediately, there was another gush of adrenalin in him as he realized that the body was in the mortuary.

“ A dying man left a piece of paper with the coat of arms and invisible inscription on the paper, what is he trying to say?” doctor Franklin sat in the sulfa confused.

Lesley sat on his Suzuki bike and gazed out at the road to the Accra Barracks. Lit from the distance ahead was the 37 military hospital adjacent the El wak sports stadium.

“Is the lady interested in having anything deep for me?” Lesley analyzed the situation as he drove through the streets. Already, the people who sent him where finding ways of eliminating him from the clan. The clan had confirmed their legendary reputation for illusion and deceit. Lesley was looking forward to exposing them if they tried anything nasty.

“ how powerful was the people he was working for?” parking his motor bike on the right side of the road and moving into Shangri la, as he entered the hotel, he exhaled, telling himself to clear his mind for the task at hand. He eyes hurt as he entered the air conditioned hall. He moved straight to the receptionist.

 “Am here to see Mrs. Juana Oscar”. The receptionist checked her book and made a phone call.

 

“Take the first elevator and move to the third floor, on the far left is number 737” the lady directed Lesley.

“Thank you” Lesley said as he moved into the elevator. As he got to the door that had the 737 number, Lesley fought the familiar undertow….. That force that often dragged him mad in time, locking him again the conception that the lady he is about to see now was a very ugly one. As a young man, the memories of purgatory came as they always did, like a tempest to his senses…… the reek of vomiting pregnant women, the stench of death in the mortuary, human urine and feces, kalala’s intriguing performance on Kumasi High School compound. The fear of ugliness and beauty in women in the capital, Accra against the soft sobs of flirting men spread across the country.  Juana, he thought, feeling some sort of shyness and scared, his muscles loosened.

 It was in the barren and forsaken match between Ghana and the rivals, the Pharaohs’ of Egypt in their encounter when Ghana had the chance to win the match. Shivering to see which of the strikers push the ball into the net of the other, wanting to have a participation in the ongoing African cups, and feeling rejected, he pressed on the door and waited for whoever was there to open the door. With his hands behind him, having a feel of the presence of his gun in case of any emergency. As the door slowly opened, he moved his hands to the trigger of the gun and pulled it off when a young woman around the ages of 35 came out smiling.

She opened the door and asked Lesley to enter. He had admired the beauty of the woman and had not realized that the woman was actually asking him what he wanted to drink.

Back to his senses, he smiled “anything good for a young man”. The rain began falling, bringing in the chilling situation in the room. The light came before the thunder. The woman came closer “what is your real name?” she asked in a sexy way.

Lesley at this point had no idea what his name was and sat paralyzed. The woman tapped him on his thigh, a heavy gush of adrenalin moved through him as he came to his senses. “My name is Lesley, but when I was a kid I was called the spinozy kid” ending with a smile.

Mrs. Juana put her glass of wine on the table and moved into the suite, where her things were scattered on the bed. As Lesley sat trying to figure what to do, he marveled to the just recent incident when the woman touched his thigh. Lesley had left school when he was just fifteen years old through dismissal from his Head Master in Kumasi High School, after he and some other boys had scaled the wall to attend to their girlfriends in Kumasi Girls Senior High.

His aunty took care of him and made him sell for her. She saw school to be a place of doom for such a notorious boy like Lesley.  The memories of anxiety surfaced like a monster from the deep. The young man stood up and entered the room the woman had entered and saw her nude, in an attempt to walk out, the woman called him back to the bed, which he did reluctantly, dried with fresh mentality in how to keep a woman busy in bed, he slowly climbed onto the bed and threw a sweating smile at Mrs. Juana, who responded back with a smile.

 

To be continued……..