BLACK MASTER SHANGO took a puff of his cigar, fixing Tim with a baleful stare. No one said anything while they stood there waiting for him. Thaddeus turned his sight on Monica and smiled. Tim seemed to cower in the room before him; there was no doubt who the real man was right now.
"How're you doing, Monica?" he said to her warmly. "Long time no see."
"I'm just as happy seeing you, Thad," she said; both of them fully knew there were few words to be said.
"You must be pretty tired. Why don't you rest on any one of the sofas," he indicated at one not too far from him. She thanked him and then went to the sofa he meant and lay down on it. She could almost sense the headache leaving her. He then turned his gaze back at Tim and this time he wasn't smiling.
"How're you doing, Tim, white boy?" he said to him. "My boys tell me you were hurrying to leave. Why and for what reason, white boy?" he smoked his cigar.
"I wasn't leaving anywhere," Tim said sheepishly like someone whose hand had just been caught in the cookie jar. "My wife, Monica, has a plane to catch and I wanted her to be on it."
"Hmmm. That sounds explainable. But what if she didn't want to go? Did you by any chance ask her if she wanted to? Knowing the impetuous type of fellow you are, it's obvious you never did such." Shango paused to sip his wine, then got up from where he sat. "Since you were kind enough to bring her along, how about we asked her, shall we?" he turned to Monica and smiled. "Monica, it's so nice seeing you again. I hope my boys didn't put you in any type of distress when they arrived at your home?"
She sat up. "Well, I was kind of frightened at first. I didn't know who they were. But knowing they came from you ... I guess I'm intrigued about whatever's going on."
Shango turned to look at her husband and grinned like a devil at him. "Aww, what a silly white boy you've been, Tim. How could you not tell your wife all the fine points of our agreement we spoke over on the phone earlier on. Such a shame."
Tim glowed red and looked down at his feet in embarrassment. Monica looked at him then back at Shango, speculating on whatever was going on between them.
"What's going on, Tim? What are you not telling me?"
"I'll tell you what he hasn't told you," said Olu Shango. He took one last drag on his cigar before turning around to a coffee table beside his chair and extinguishing the cigar on an ash tray then turned back to face them. "Your hubby, Tim, came to me with a problem. A rather pressing problem he wanted to make go away with much discretion and as swiftly as possible. I told him I can make such problem go away of course, but at a giveaway price. Can you guess what my price was, Monica?"
His eyes held hers in a firm gaze. It rattled Monica to stare back at him. She looked back at Tim who now was blushing so hard and didn't want to meet her stare.
"I don't ... I know nothing about any price," she replied Olu. "I know nothing at all about whatever problem he's having."
"I know you don't, Monica. A shame the things husbands keep from their wives. I will leave the fine details to him to tell you, but I'll let you in on my part of the bargain. What I want from him, quite simply, is you."