admin Short Story Larry Chibike
I SHOOK with anger as I looked at my uncle’s lifeless body lying with blood trickling all over his body and the red precious liquid gushing from his gasping mouth. Before I could realise it, he had left for the world of the unknown. The bitter feeling of witnessing his death and what’s worse, the thought of not being able to see him again still haunts me.
The events that led to his death unfolded from the year 2008. Uncle Sam had been the most prominent lawyer and businessman in Bulawayo. He had been my guardian since both my parents had gone to work in Japan as manufacturing engineers. My life with Uncle Sam by my side was like Heaven on earth.
I attended Girls College School in Bulawayo while residing at Selbourne Park suburb at a mansion worth US$2 million. Uncle Sam owned a skyscraper which he rented out at US$10 000, a high school in Harare and several farms in Bindura.
He was a lawyer to reckon with, the owner of Sam’s Law Firm, one of Zimbabwe’s leading law firms. By the year 2012, his businesses made remarkable improvements. He added to his business two garages and a vehicle selling company in South Africa.
Having successfully finished my high school studies, I had to pursue my studies at the national University of Science and Technology. I never knew what boarding public transport was like as I had my own posh car, thanks to Uncle Sam. With time, my Uncle’s business partners frequented our premises but amongst them, there was a suspicious man, Mr Hernandez.
Whenever Uncle Sam turned to face the other direction, Mr Hernandez’s smile transformed into a frowning face. After some time of noticing this weird behaviour, I resolved to tell Uncle Sam about it. Alas, my words hit on a double brick wall as Uncle Sam dismissed what he said was an ill-informed assumption. Within weeks of alerting Uncle Sam about Mr Hernandez’s wizardry expressions, the news of the murder of local businessman at a local hotel, spread like veld fire. A sample of saliva had been found on the scene.
The doctor who investigated the issue discovered that the saliva was Mr Hernandez’s. As daring as he was, Mr Hernandez bribed the doctor into misrepresenting the results by finding a way of taking another saliva sample and pretending as if it was the one found on the scene. Unfortunately, things turned out badly as the doctor refused to succumb to Mr Hernandez’s pressures.
A week after the gruesome murder of the businessman whose case was still under investigation, the doctor was found dead at his house while his wife and daughter went missing. Uncle Sam became one of the few people willing to reveal information they knew pertaining to the two murder cases.
On one hot summer morning, as Uncle Sam was preparing to drive to the police station, I heard the door bell ringing while upstairs in my bedroom. When Uncle Sam opened the door, a thunderous voice, which closely resembled Mr Hernandez’s boomed in the dining room.
“Sam, I know you are suspecting that I murdered Nkosana and that silly doctor. You guessed well, I am the murderer you are suspecting”. Just as Mr Hernandez was finishing up this statement, I was already half-way down the stairs. Gripped with great fear at the sight of Mr Hernandez pointing a pistol at a terrified Uncle Sam, I froze before I could reach the dining room floor. “Today I will kill you and take all your wealth,” Mr Hernandez continued. By now, Uncle Sam had managed to walk backwards to reach for his gun in his drawer. Just as he was about to open the drawer, a few bullets splattered out of the gun.
“No!” I shouted as Mr Hernandez disappeared into thin air. Hot tears streamed down my face as I held my Uncle’s weak bleeding body. “Don’t leave me yet, please!” I screamed. “Money killed me.”
Those were the last words that came out of my uncle’s mouth. I cried, screamed and cursed but nothing could bring back Uncle Sam.
Larry Chibike is a Form 3 pupil at St Columba’s High School in Bulawayo.
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