TOTAL VENGEANCE: THE MERCHANDISE IN A BROWN BAG

Copyright © 2024 E.S. Omofomwan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-6248-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-6249-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024908554

iUniverse rev. date: 04/30/2024

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Minutes in Hell

Chapter 2 The Traditional Burial Ceremony

Chapter 3 Mike: Coping with Loss of Parents and High School Life

Chapter 4 Vacation to New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Chapter 5 New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Chapter 6 End of Vacation in New Orleans: Back to School

Chapter 7 Days after the Final Exam

Chapter 8 The Plan for the Outgoing Send-Off Party

Chapter 9 The Outgoing-Senior Send-Off Party

Chapter 10 High School Reflection

Chapter 11 Hope for a Brighter Future

Chapter 12 Preparation for College

Chapter 13 Mike and Joyce

Chapter 14 The Journey Back to New Orleans

Chapter 15 The Paragon University Campus

Chapter 16 Registration for Classes

Chapter 17 Campus Familiarization

Chapter 18 Getting Used to the Instructors

Chapter 19 Uncle Joshua and Wife: Back to New Orleans

Chapter 20 A Visit to the Mall

Chapter 21 Parents’ Preparation to Go Home

Chapter 22 The Journey Home

Chapter 23 Out-of-Dorm Student

Chapter 24 A Closer Association with His Girlfriend

Chapter 25 Uncle Joshua and Wife: Journey Back to New Orleans

Chapter 26 Mike and Lucky’s Graduation Ceremony

Chapter 27 Mike’s Engagement to Joyce

Chapter 28 Uncle Joshua and Wife: Journey Back Home

Chapter 29 Mike’s Acquaintance with Amen in New Orleans

Chapter 30 A Visit Home

Chapter 31 The Revenge

Chapter 32 Mike’s Exoneration in a Murder Case

Chapter 33 A New Chapter: Back to New Orleans

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

Minutes in Hell

Mr. Jacobs had just finished his dinner and was relaxing on his sleeping sofa in the living room while his wife clipped his toenails. In that position, he began to tell an evening folktale, one of the many he had shared with his wife and son over the years. They listened with keen interest as they enjoyed the evening. The colorful rays of the setting sun, high up on the walls, easily penetrated the living room windows. The noise of the evening crickets crawling out of their crevices in the mud houses and bushes within the neighborhood added a kind of melody to the song Mr. Jacobs sang with his folktale.

His son, Mike, was fourteen years of age and the only child of his parents. A few weeks back, Mike had taken ill from a dangerous fever while in school and had been rushed to a well-known hospital in Benin City, Nigeria, where they lived. He had been diagnosed with malaria fever, but after spending a week in the hospital under intensive care, he had been released and brought back home to recover until he was strong enough to return to school.

That evening, Mike was overwhelmed with bliss as he lay in his mother’s arms after she finished her husband’s toenails, and he listened as his father continued with his favorite folktale, The Tortoise and the Hare. He felt blessed to be in the presence of his parents, as just a few weeks ago, he had been fighting for his life. The living room was filled with love and serenity.

Suddenly, there came a thunderous bang on the door. It was late in the evening, and neither his father nor his mother was expecting any visitors. Most of Mike’s friends either lived a good distance from his home or were snuggled up in their dormitories at his boarding school, so he knew the visitor could not have been for him. But according to their culture, a family member could pop in at any time without any formal notice or approval, so Mike and his parents had no hesitation in answering the door.

Mike, his father called, will you see who is at the door, please?

Mike got up quickly and ran to the door, and as he opened it, three masked men, each holding a small handgun, furiously pushed him aside and rushed into the living room, where his parents relaxed.

You, the tallest of the three said as he pointed his gun at Mr. Jacobs, stand up.

Mr. Jacobs tried his best to obey the order as quickly as he could, but he had some difficulty in getting up from his recliner. As soon as he finally got to his feet, the masked man continued.

We’ve been sent to assassinate you and take you out of this miserable life you’re presently living, but if you go inside your room and bring us all the money you have, your life may be spared. Otherwise, I’ll blow your head off right here in the presence of your family.

Please don’t harm us, his wife pleaded as one of the men held a gun to her back.

Mr. Jacobs, because of his fearlessness, was never a man to back down to anyone, no matter the situation. He was annoyed and began to struggle with the man, who pushed him around the living room, while Mike and his mother cried and pleaded with the three men.

What could I have possibly done to deserve this? Mr. Jacobs asked. His voice now trembled with fear and confusion. God knows I haven’t done anyone anything wrong.

Please, husband! his wife shouted with terror. Give them whatever they want.

I don’t have a penny to give to anyone, her husband responded. I now know who sent you. Why couldn’t Mr. Smith Ayo come out and do this himself? Was he scared I would come out victorious?

What are you talking about? the tall, slim man asked. Who is Mr. Smith Ayo?

You know exactly who Mr. Smith Ayo is, you damn fool! Mr. Jacobs exploded. He could not get my job, and now he wants to take my life. To hell with you three. Go back and tell him that I’ve succeeded in life and that he should always remember that.

Mr. Jacobs was pushed against his will into his room, where he found a few thousand nairas he had stashed away in a drawer. After giving the man all the money he had in the house, he was led back to the living room with a gun still held to his head.

There in the home he’d built years ago with the intention of living a good life with his wife and child, he was shot point-blank in the head by one of the three men.

Mrs. Jacobs screamed in terror as she watched the love of her life fall helplessly to the floor. The three men then began to spray him with bullets as his body lay lifelessly on the floor. Mike, his only son, reached to his father on the floor, crying and begging for mercy with his mother, but the masked men ignored their pleas. After the men made sure Mr. Jacobs was dead, they quickly removed the masks from their heads. At that moment, Mike was able to glimpse their evil faces, locking them up steadfastly like photos in his memory. Soon after, the men took Mike’s mother hostage and fled, leaving him alone in the room, which was now covered in his father’s blood.

Gasping for air, Mike quickly rushed out of the house and shouted for help in the neighborhood. The neighbors and relatives who heard rushed out immediately to see what was happening. Mike could not utter a word, but in anguish, he pointed toward the living room, where his father lay in a pool of blood. As soon as he gathered his momentum, he forcefully started to shout at the top of his voice.

There in the living room, he stammered to Uncle David, his father’s oldest brother, who was the first to arrive at the house. They’ve murdered my father!

Uncle David rushed into the house, and there on the living room floor, he found his younger brother lying dead in a pool of his own blood.

Who did this, Mike? Uncle David asked as he stooped down over his brother’s body.

Three masked men came into the house while my father told my mother and I some folktales, Mike replied, still crying in shock.

Where is your mother now?

She’s been taken away by the three murderers! Mike cried at the top of his voice.

Uncle David hit the floor angrily. He could not comprehend what had just happened to his brother.

The house was soon filled with relatives and neighbors, some crying and others yelling. In the midst of the uproar, the police department was quickly notified, and as they all waited, some of Mike’s father’s relatives ran in the direction in which Mike had seen the men flee with his mother.

About half an hour after his father was shot to death, finally, two police vans, filled with ten policemen, arrived at the scene. The police inspector, who was the head of the group, stepped down from one van and ran into the house. On the floor of the living room, he saw Mike’s father lying dead in a pool of blood.

Who did this atrocious act? he angrily asked.

Three young men wearing masks over their heads came in as my father told my mother and me some folktales. After they forced him to give them all the money he had in the house, they shot him point-blank several times until they made sure he was dead. Then they took my mother hostage and ran away.

In which direction did they go? the inspector asked.

They ran in that direction, Mike said, pointing toward the open field directly opposite the family home.

The police inspector immediately ordered the remaining officers to go in that direction in the hope of rescuing Mike’s mother while he stayed behind to write up the police report. His eyes were full of tears as he wrote Mike’s story, and when he finished writing, he looked intently into Mike’s eyes and made him a promise.

I’m sorry, child, he said. I promise never to rest until I find the three men responsible for this atrocious and animalistic act.

Sir, Mike said, there was something my father told the men before they killed him, if I can remember what it was.

Think hard, my child, the police inspector said. Tell me every detail of what you heard your father tell the three men.

I remember my father saying, ‘I know you’ve been sent to do this by Mr. Smith Ayo, who wanted my position at work. Unfortunately, he wasn’t man enough to come do this himself. Tell him to go to hell, and also let him know I’ve already succeeded in life.’

Who, child, do you think Mr. Smith Ayo is? the inspector asked.

I think he works in the office where my father worked, Mike responded. My father mentioned his name as an interloper to his private life many times.

Thank you very much, son, the inspector said. The police department will handle the case from here.

That night, the police, along with some relatives, searched the neighborhood thoroughly for Mike’s mother and the three assassins but to no avail. Every minute that passed, Mike could not help but see the three faces of the men who’d assassinated his father in cold blood, and their evil faces stimulated his sensory nerves.

The police department did not give up their quest to locate Mike’s mother and those responsible for the death of Mr. Jacobs. Late the next morning, the police inspector came back to the house in a gloomy mood.

I’ve some rather bad news to tell, he said to Mike. I’m sorry, son, but your mother was found raped and shot to death in a gutter just at the outskirts of the city.

Mike instantly became frozen from the outside to the inside of his soul and fainted.

It took a while to resuscitate Mike back to life, and when Mike awoke, he found himself held tightly by his uncle, who was patting him on his back.

Please, son, Uncle David said, take it easy, and let’s put everything in God’s hands. There’s nothing any of us can do now. Please, Lord, have mercy on my son!

You need to take it easy, son, like your uncle just said, the inspector told Mike. Fortunately, I can say we’ve arrested Mr. Smith Ayo, who worked with your father. He is currently in the custody of the police and is in jail without bail.

Thank God, Uncle David responded.

You’ll be called upon to testify, my son, when the arraignment is made in court, the police inspector added. I hope you’ll be able, without fear or favor, to stand steadfastly for your parents.

Sir, I don’t think I have anything to lose anymore in life, Mike responded tearfully.

That’s my boy, the inspector said, patting him on his shoulder.

The news about his mother’s death added much pain to the burning injures that had already plagued and taken over his heart with the utmost intensity. Mike had been to hell and back, and to him, nothing seemed real anymore.

A few days after his parents were killed, they were buried closed to each other behind his father’s house. As Mike was only fourteen, the elders in the family came together in an impromptu meeting to reason and arrive at a quick decision before the burial ceremony began.

We all know why we are gathered here, Uncle David said. My brother and his wife were murdered a couple of weeks ago and have been buried. They have only one child, who is fourteen years old, and according to our tradition, we have to decide if the burial ceremony needs to be held now or if we will wait until their only son comes of age in order to have the means of doing so. The spirits of our family forbid this kind of atrocity from ever happening to us again as long as we shall live.

Amen, everyone said.

According to our native law and custom, Uncle David continued, it’s customary that they’re given a befitting burial for seven days or for as many days as you, the elders of our family, agree upon. But while we reason together, let’s not forget, again, their only child is fourteen years of age.

That’s the reason this decision ought to take us no time at all. Another elder in the family chimed in. I suggest three days instead of the normal seven days, unless we decide to wait until their son comes of age. Sometimes, because of the circumstances surrounding a death, a ceremony is postponed until such time as the child of the deceased is ripe enough to handle such a high-profile obligation. We all already know how old our son is, and for this reason, I therefore suggest that the ceremony be postponed until—

Hold it, brothers and sisters, Uncle Joshua, Mike’s uncle on his mother’s side of the family, quickly interrupted. Because my sister is involved, I’d like to suggest we do the ceremony now and get it all over with. I shall take up the financial obligation if you will all agree with me.

There we have it, ladies and gentlemen, Uncle David responded. Everyone in favor of that motion, please signify with your hands up.

Immediately, those in the room raised their hands in unison.

It was quickly decided that the burial ceremony would be completed in three days instead of the normal seven days, so as to alleviate some of the pressure placed on Uncle Joshua.

CHAPTER 2

The Traditional Burial Ceremony

All arrangements were made, and on the day accepted by the families for the burial ceremony, relatives from far and near were in attendance. Three well-decorated canopies had been set outside Mike’s father’s compound, and as a band played, members of the two families present were on the floor, dancing and enjoying themselves. According to tradition, the master of ceremonies was introduced and formally asked to render a short opening prayer. After the prayer, senior members of Mike’s father’s immediate family were called to the dance floor, followed by his mother’s. As each group danced, Mike sat on a high chair in the center of the dance floor, dressed in colorful traditional attire. Each member of the two families on the dance floor jubilantly sprayed his forehead with bills of different values, and soon the box that had been placed beneath his chair filled with bills such as he had never seen before. Then it was the turn of the two organizations his parents had belonged to. The members also sprayed Mike’s forehead with money, to the point that another box was brought as the first ran over.

Suddenly, as the ceremony went on under the brightly shining light, Mike caught sight of a face he recognized well: the face of one of his parents’ murderers. Overcome with feeling, he lost control of his inner self. He furiously rushed down from his high chair to the surprise of everyone in the gathering and ran into the house. His uncles Joshua and David followed.

What’s the matter, my son? Uncle Joshua asked. What happened?

I just saw the face of one of my parents’ murderers in the crowd, Mike said, panting and almost out of breath. He’s standing there talking to one of the guests at the end of the canopy to the right, facing the house and wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a white hat.

Calm down, son, his uncle quietly said to him. We’re going to go back out there as if nothing has happened. Make absolutely sure you’re very composed. But first, let me make some phone calls.

Uncle Joshua immediately called the police station and made a report. A group of policemen were quickly dispatched to the ceremonial site in front of the Jacobs house. Mike’s uncles led him back solemnly onto the dance floor, and as soon as he was seated on the high chair, Uncle David went quietly to the microphone and made an announcement.

Please, ladies and gentlemen, lend me your ears, he said. My nephew was overtaken by sadness in regard to the deaths of his parents. He’s quite OK now, so please let the ceremony begin. Thank you all for coming.

The band began to play again as everyone came back to the dance floor. The spraying of money all over Mike’s head resumed soon afterward. Standing behind him, his uncles monitored the appearance of the man Mike had described. He had moved from one end of the canopy to the other and was desperately conversing with some friends. It was a face Mike could never have forgotten even in the darkest of nights.

Soon the police van arrived, and the entire compound was instantly surrounded. Before the arrival of the police, Uncle David ordered the master of ceremonies to quickly clear everyone from the dance floor to give him the opportunity to speak with the police officers. He also ordered the MC. [Master of Ceremony] to begin the ceremony again as soon as Mike left the floor. The man did exactly as he was ordered. Swiftly and in modest form, Mike was brought into the house to be interrogated by the police inspector.

Can you tell me, son, where the man is standing right now and what he’s wearing? the inspector asked.

He’s talking to a guest at the end of the canopy to the right, facing the house and wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with a white hat, Mike responded.

Are you sure he is one of the men who murdered your parents?

I’m pretty sure, sir.

OK, son, the inspector said. Sit right here while we do our job.

No wonder our people say, ‘When the thief is helping to look for the object that’s stolen, it can never be found,’ Mike’s uncle said remorsefully. This man had the guts to come here to help celebrate the lives he slaughtered like goats. God in heaven, what type of human beings did you create in the world?

Sharply, the inspector went out with the other police officers, and they surrounded the tall, slim man wearing a white cap on his bald head. Everyone in the crowed was surprised and overwhelmed by what was happening.

You’re under arrest, the inspector told the man as the police handcuffed him.

What sins have I committed to warrant this arrest? the man asked.

The cruel murders of Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs. You have the right to remain silent, and everything you say or do now may be held against you in a court of law.

You have nothing on me, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and stop this nonsense and let me go before you go making a fool of yourself? the man arrogantly said.

Tell the judge that in court, the inspector told him.

The man was taken away to jail, pending a court hearing. Since the inspector felt Mike’s life might be in jeopardy, he advised that as soon as the burial ceremony was over, Mike should be taken away from home to an unknown destination until everything was settled in court. But before then, three policemen were assigned to his father’s compound for the duration of the ceremony.

As soon as the burial ceremony was over, Mike went to stay with Uncle Joshua, who lived not far from Mike’s father’s home in the city. A few days later, after the police department had done everything in their power to make sure Mike was favorably secured, a court date was set for the hearing of his parents’ killers.

On that day, Mike was escorted to court under heavy security. The courtroom was full to capacity. He had the opportunity, for the first time, to come face-to-face with Mr. Smith, his father’s coworker, who was speculated to have sent the three men to kill Mr. Jacobs. Sitting on the other side of a table away from Mr. Smith was the tall, slim man who’d been arrested during his parents’ burial ceremony.

Soon the door in the back of the courtroom opened, and as the justices entered the courtroom, the court clerk stood up and said, All stand. The court is now in session, presided over by justices Amaro, Agama, and Abele and Chief Justice Iyar.

As soon as the four justices were seated, the clerk said, Please, ladies and gentlemen, be seated. Now court is in order.

The two cases were quickly introduced. The prosecuting and the defense attorneys went to work to present their cases before the court.

Your Honor, may I call to the stand my first witness? the prosecutor asked.

You may, replied Justice Amaro.

I call to the stand Mike Jacobs.

Sluggish and scared, Mike got up from his seat and walked briskly to the witness stand.

Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God? the court clerk asked while placing Mike’s right palm on an old Bible.

Yes, I do, Mike responded.

Because Mike was still underage, the prosecutor needed to prove to the court that he knew what he was doing and why he was there in court.

Mike, take a deep breath, and relax, the prosecutor said.

Mike took a long, deep breath. After exhaling, he cracked his stiff neck, producing a loud pop that echoed throughout the silent room. Then he began quivering in fear.

Mike, are you all right, son? the prosecutor asked.

Yes, sir, he replied. I think so.

Good. Do you know why you are here in court today, son?

Yes, sir.

Could you please tell the court why you think you’re here today?

I’m here in court today to testify in the case of the assassination of my parents. To testify about all I heard and saw while my father was being shot to death and my mother taken away by the same men to be killed.

Do you think you still can remember any face that was there in your father’s house that evening when he was shot to death?

Yes, sir, Mike replied. Like my people always say, ‘Whatever one does to a child never clears his or her face.’

Look around the court to see if you can identify any of the men who murdered your parents, and point them out to the court.

The faces of the three men scrolled up and down his memory, and as if he had just awakened from a dream, he shouted as he pointed to the slim man, one of the three men who’d come to his father’s house that evening.

Over there! That slim man. I could never forget that ugly face as long as I live, he said as he began to cry.

Calm down, son, the prosecutor said. We’re not finished yet.

He tried to compose himself, but the agony, anger, and pain of losing his parents overshadowed him, and he began to cry more. Because of his inability to comprehend anything at that moment, the prosecutor requested a thirty-minute break.

Your Honor, if I may ask, I would like to request a thirty-minute break to give my client time to calm down.

Your request is granted, Justice Agama replied. This hearing shall resume in thirty minutes.

All in court, stand, please, the court clerk said as the justices got up to leave the courtroom.

After the thirty-minute break was over, the court was in session again, and the questioning continued.

Remember, son, that you’re still under oath, Justice Agama said.

Yes, sir, Mike replied.

Mike, could you please tell this court all that happened the day your father was shot to death by the three men?

I object, Your Honor. The three men are not in question right now, and that’s argumentative! the defense attorney said.

Objection denied. The question is relevant to this hearing, and you may answer the question, son, Justice Agama responded. Tell the court, my son, what happened that night.

After dinner, my parents and I were in the living room, listening to my favorite folktale told by my father. Suddenly, there was a bang on the door. My parents were surprised to hear such a bang and asked that I quickly run to open the door. I did as I was ordered, and to my amazement, three men wearing masks over their heads and holding handguns forced themselves into the living room.

Then what happened? the prosecutor asked.

"My mother and I were scared. We both began to plead with the men not to hurt any of us. The tallest man among the group told my father, ‘We’ve been sent to assassinate you and take you out of this miserable life you’re presently living. Go inside your room, and bring us all the money you have if you want to live; otherwise, I’ll blow your head