CHAPTER 3

           DARKEST HOURS 

               CHAPTER THREE

                JOHN PAUL's POV 

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It has been three days and ma'am Felicia has been in the hospital, and yet no trace of her mentioned daughter.

I couldn't ask her about her daughter.

Because i felt she needed to heal and focus on herself more, once she has recovered much better i can ask of her daughter and get her to see her mom.

One evening, I went to the church as usual and sat down in the rear pew and kept gazing at the Roman Catholic statues.

An image passed me by like a ghost.

I was distracted by that. I looked around and saw as  a female figure walked away from the church like an angel, with the old floor-length dress that made her move as if she was just floating in the air.

The long dress like the ones in the medieval period covered her legs that I couldn’t even see her shoes.

As silence flared in the church, I tried to resist the attraction but I was moved by so much desire which made me rush out to meet her.

I couldn’t just allow such an angel pass without having a word with her.

I could only see her back but not her face.

There was something about her that got me interested in her even before seeing her face.

When I came outside the church, I didn’t see her again.

I looked searchingly around but couldn’t see her until, i looked further and saw her in an old car that passed me as it zoomed off.

I blamed myself for not acting faster when I first caught a glimpse of her.

It was funny that I couldn’t see her face but her curvaceous and voluptuous figure was sufficient to inform me, that I just met a powerfully lovely girl. 

Throughout my stay in the mansion, I sank in deep thoughts, thinking about the image which was locked in the reminiscence of my mind.

Many of the maids and servants in the mansion noticed that I was worried and worked up, but none of them had the audacity to approach with a question or inquiry into my personal life.

From the hallways to the swimming poolside, and then through the orchard and back to the balcony, I kept drowned in the sea of deep thoughts which almost became an obsession that drove me crazy.

I suddenly became engrossed by the image I saw in St Gabriel’s Catholic Church. 

Because of the disappearing angel that I saw, I spent most of my time around the church, even more than I use to, just to know if I could see her one more time.

It seemed as if she knew that I’d been trying to meet her again and decided not to show up again.

One clement Friday morning when I was meant to have a meeting with the board of directors of my company, I found my way to the church ready to sacrifice my meeting for just a moment to see her one more time.

Being that the day I saw her first was a Friday, I decided to try my luck one more time.

As I sat in the church in the usual pew, I kept looking around with much distraction, reacting to every sound amid the silence of the church.

At a point, it seemed as if the entire statues in the church were telling me to be more patient as I waited for the angel to reappear again.

After a long wait, I couldn’t heed their imaginary voices anymore and decided to walk away.

Even though I knew the statues never talked, I created a kind of psychology in me, making me feel the presence of some comforting companies.

“I couldn’t see her,” I muttered to the statue facing me. “She’s not coming today just like the other days,”

As I turned and genuflected as the Roman Catholics do and about to leave. I saw the beautiful angel again walking across by the door, just almost the part I lost her the last time.

This was my chance; therefore, I ran as fast as I could to avoid losing sight of her again.

Coming out of the church, I saw her as she was picking up some beautiful flowers and planting them close to the fountain.

“Hey ma’am,” I quickly showered her with my pleasant greetings. “Do you….you work here?” I faltered.

She didn’t talk but kept doing what she was doing, even without returning my greetings.

 To ensure that I got her attention, I touched her gently on the shoulder and said: “I’ve been seeing you around. And I don’t know if I could talk to you ? and probably join you in the planting of trees and flowers in the church,”

She turned, looking at me with a dimmed vision; she smiled without uttering a word.

Her smiles could bring down the angels from heaven and reawaken a dying man. I’d never beheld such beauty in my life.

From her appearance, I could easily guess that she could be from an Asia origin or Arabic side, judging from her thick excess black hair and unibrow which flattered that oval inviting face, with a dimpled cheek.

“I’m Treasure ,” she finally spoke remaining mute as if she didn’t talk at all.

At that point, I felt as if it was my imagination that responded to making me think that she was the one that talked.

“Did you say you’re Treasure ?” I asked again trying to be sure that I wasn’t hallucinating.

“Yes, I’m Treasure Federick ,” she reiterated.

“Sorry, are you of this suburb ?” I curiously asked.

“Why did you ask?” she queried with a faint smile and kept planting the flowers, to avoid my distractions.

“Because of the way you look,” I quickly answered and chuckled.

“My dad is American but my mum is from Mexican,” she answered and started watering the garden.

“Please, let me help with that,” I said and tried to take the watering can from her but she held it firm.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it,” she protested sweetly with a smile. 

“I know you could, but I want to help,” I insisted and collected the can from her and started watering the garden.

As I tried my best to do it the way she did the watering, I kept splashing water everywhere because I’d never done such before except by the numerous maids that surrounded me in the white mansion.

“Funny,” she muttered and covered her mouth with her palm to stifle the laugh that was already visible.

“I can do this,” I insisted and kept fighting with the can, making mistakes.

“Bring it, let me teach you,” she said and collected the can from me. I just had to let her because it was obvious that I couldn’t do it perfectly.

I watched the way she handled it, and enjoyed watching her do it.

She taught me how to do it and I learned without much difficulty.

The remaining part of the watering was handled by me and I felt so happy doing.

As we were together, my cell phone continuously buzzed but I ignored them knowing full well that it was office call for the board meeting.

After a while of disturbance, I switched off the phone.

“I’m done for the day and I want to go home now,” she said smilingly again and packed up her things.

“Let me take you home,” I offered chivalrously to help.

“Don’t worry.” she declined, “I’m used to walking,”

“But, what of if I insist?” I stubbornly maintained looking straight into her dazzling but emerald green eyes.

“Then I have to oblige you,” she said and looked around to see where I parked my car. “Where is your car, Mr.…?”

“Call me John paul,” I said and started moving away gradually,  making sure that she was still there.

I quickly hastened to the parking lot and drove my Rolls Royce phantom down to her location,   so that she wouldn’t be gone before my arrival.

Immediately she saw my car, she refused to enter and shrugged severally saying: “As you can see, I’m muddy and filthy with sands and water and I can't enter such car looking the way I am,”

I observed her innocence, making much pity drawn from me.

The more she tried to make me feel that she was unfit to allow me to take her home, the more I felt the passion and need to do that.

“I wouldn’t mind, dear. You look exclusively gorgeous,” I complimented and opened the door for her.

The chilly AC spread on her, making her close her eyes as she felt the cool breeze.

I observed the way she quivered as she entered and sat with her weight shifted to one side because she wasn’t relaxed inside the car.

 She sat on the edge of the seat and couldn’t even use her seatbelt.

I closed the door and entered. I watched how uncomfortable she was and smiled. “You may consider relaxing properly for me to help you use your seatbelt. 

She obeyed and I helped her out and drove to her house.

Driving home, I followed her direction but was surprised that we were heading to a remote end of the streets.

When I got to her house, it was a pitiable look .

And I couldn’t imagine how a human being could be living in such an old dilapidated house in the woods, and be surviving without being attacked by wild animals, harsh weather or strange illness.

I felt so pitiful and almost shed tears for seeing such beauty in her die in abject poverty.

I enjoyed the woods because it was like an adventure to me. 

But the old house itself was in a deplorable state, which could collapse at any time if not properly reconstructed.

I wondered if the house was built in the 19th century during the American war with cracks all over it.

“This is where I live, Sir,” she said looking happy,  but feeling bad for taking me to such place.

“ Call me John paul ” I corrected, “But this place is really far from the church,” I said with great concern, “How do you walk all the time without taking an uber or something?”

“I love to walk, it some form of exercise,” she said trying to make me believe her trying but I knew too well that she lied.

In actual sense, her statement sounded like, ‘I don’t have the money for transportation’.

“Can we go in now?” I suggested as we kept chatting on the threshold of the old building.

“No, we can’t,” she rejected and tried to move away to make me follow her but I pulled her back gently.

Out of curiosity, I insisted on knowing why she didn’t want me to enter the house. 

“Are you married?” I asked as I sought to know the reason for her prevention of my entrance into her house.

The cool wind kept beating an imaginary drum for the trees, making them respond accordingly with adorable dance to the wanton breeze.

“No, I’m not,” she answered, getting my mind relaxed a bit. “But I don’t want you to come into the room,” she added knitting her brow in disapproval.

“You must have a reason, i know but i won’t obey until I know your reasons,” I pigheadedly insisted.