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Pastor’s Trumpet

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I had gone to the pastor’s flat in the evening to play with Heritage and Dolapo. We had a strong argument about who the landlord of the house was. Although I was very sure the house belonged to my father, Dolapo argued that my father was always opening the gate for her father to drive into the compound each time he came home after vigils.

The counter argument was so strong that the feeling occupied my mind while I lay on my bed waiting for sleep to come. I had fought with Dolapo for calling my dad a gateman and I was feeling really guilty for disobeying one of rules instructed of us in Sunday school.

My mum indeed was disappointed and furious just as my dad was that they didn’t call me for night prayers. I was even too ashamed to eat dinner.

Moments of thought passed and I was still not able to sleep. I had counted the ceiling in my room and gone on voyage to land of different imaginations. I wanted to pray to God because I always sleep during prayer but I thought God would be angry with me for fighting.

I lay innocently on my bed thinking of what would become of me since it seemed the whole world was against me.

The noise that woke me up was unusual and disturbing. I hadn’t even slept for thirty minutes. The noise continued and I was worried about what the source was. It sounded much as if it were the horn of a car but I had never experienced a condition where the horn of a car is being sounded for more than five minutes and no sane occupant of our estate would disturb with horn around that time of the night.

Just then it occurred to me! The words of the Sunday school teacher. “The trumpet shall sound on the last day” fear gripped the whole of my heart despite the fact that I wasn’t sure it was rapture. I hurried off to check my parents in the master’s bedroom but I met the door opened.  Jesus! I exclaimed, my dad and mum weren’t there.

“How could my dad had made it to heaven?” I asked myself. “Has he stopped drinking?” I was terribly baffled as to why God left only me just because I committed little sin. I still caught my dad and mum in the act of kissing two days ago despite the fact that my Sunday school teacher told us that kissing is a sin. My eyes were already red and all these thoughts were as rapid as the action of adrenaline.

I hurried down the stairs to be sure if dad was in the living room or had really been ruptured. On getting to the living room, I began to hear noise emanating from outside the compound. It was then I actually noticed that the trumpet had stopped sounding. I took bold steps outside the house just with the aim of seeing the face of sinners who didn’t make it to heaven just like me. It’s very unusual for the entrance door of our apartment not to be locked and so I concluded that Jesus himself opened it as tears rolled down my cheeks.

Although it was night, it wasn’t dark because the compound was well illuminated with the aid of our standby generator.

The noise outside was still disturbing and different thoughts hovered about my school mind as I approached the gate. Just exactly the way our apartment door was left opened, so also was the gate.

I peeped out immediately I got to the gate and to my greatest surprise, I saw my dad, mum, pastor and his wife all reigning abuses at themselves with each spouse pairing up as a team.

I needed not to have been told what happened. I could infer immediately.

The pastor came late as usual and because my dad didn’t come quickly to assist him in opening the gate as usual, he decided to disturb with the terrible horn of his car.

Apart from the fact that the pastor was fined by the magistrate court, my dad also sent him packing returning the advance rent payment he had made. Now! Really, Dolapo and Heritage will know who the real landlord is.

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