Pregnant Man

Pregnant Man: by Princekizito Uba A.N.

It was an exceptionally beautiful island, off the Atlantic Ocean.
Rumors had it, that it was not far from the Bermuda Triangle. Although
the truth about this claim, could not be ascertained.

The inhabitants of this island were a countable few. Nevertheless, they
were peaceful and friendly.
When the idea, first came from Captain Marcus, for the two-member
family - husband and pregnant wife, to go and live in Silver Island,
Lydia, her wife, rejected it vehemently. She was afraid of the sea and
its monsters. She was scared due the horrible tales she heard, as a
child, about the Bermuda Triangle and the dead sea. Each time she
closed her eyes, she would visualize herself inside a boat, and the
boat always got swept off its course, into the lifeless sea. Apart from
her fears, she did not want to lose her friends, especially little
children, who always clustered around her like bees would, a
nectar.
"I've said we're leaving for the Island!" grunted Captain Marcus, as he
comfortably smoked his pipe.
"But why?" asked the frustrated Lydia. She felt badly disappointed for
failing to convince her husband against his weird decision. She did not
want to live in the so called Silver Island, not even with all its
promising beauties. She had got used to her house, and would love to
spend the rest of her life there.
"That's the only sure way we can evade tax!" Marcus replied. Lydia
thought for a while, and accepted her fate with much reluctance.
Moreover, she wanted to give her husband one condition he must fulfill,
before she would follow him to his wonderland.
"But you must do something for me, if I have to go with you!"
"What is it?" Marcus asked crossly.
"Robert isn't going with us!"
"Why?"
"I hate him!" snapped Lydia.
"You hate him?" smiled Marcus. "But he is a jolly fellow. Isn't
he?"
"I simply hate him. Period!"
"O.K.! I'll do away with him!" Marcus finally agreed. Lydia smiled
triumphantly and walked away.

Of the three parrots that lived with the family, Robert was the one
Marcus loved most. Each time he came back from his trips, Robert would
always tell him all that happened in his absence. They knew and
understand each other too well like twins. They shared and kept each
other's secrets, as well. However, Marcus needed Lydia to go to the
Island with him, even at the risk of losing Robert. His lovely parrot.
It was not because he so much cared about Lydia. Not at all! It was her
pregnancy, that he was interested in. And he would want her to remain
pregnant, always.

*******
Lydia, still heavy with pregnancy, sat in front of the family's humble
abode. It was exactly Ten O'clock in the morning; and the heat of the
sun was already at its peak. Typical of Ajegunle, one of the worst
slums of Lagos Metropolis - the busiest city in Nigeria. The whole
environs was littered with all kinds of rubbish: pieces of paper, empty
bottles, and empty treated water sachets. Crows and vultures were
voraciously fighting over over-flowing garbage bins, near-by. Naked
children ran around, playing locally-made ball. The children were not
ordinary children. Even in their innocent-nakedness, their beauty was
unequalled. Their cute wings (each had two wings, like a cherub),
dangled behind them as they ran after the ball. One of them, his leg as
thin as mosquito's, skillfully dribbled the rest of his opponents. And
as he was about to score a goal into the opponent's goal post, he hit
his tiny leg, the left one, on a stone and fell with a loud crash. He
started wailing. Immediately, Lydia rose from her chair and ran to him.
Gently, she picked him up, cuddled him to her breasts, and went back to
her seat. While she consoled him, his play-mates gathered around them,
watching silently. As the child stopped crying, Lydia looked up and
remembered something. Gifts. Quickly, she got up, still carrying the
child with his fragile legs, and walked into her room. Moments later,
she came out with a basket of fruits and biscuits. Immediately the
children saw her, they lined up in front of her, waiting patiently.
None of them spoke as they waited. Lydia started attending to them. As
soon as each child got his gift, he fluffed out his wings and flew
away. Now it remained the youngest of all - the cutest. Fair, with
sparkling eyes and ruddy cheeks. His hair too, was curly like that of a
mountain goat. One would mistake him for a Caucasian, or Hispanic. He
was neither of them. He was an albino.
"Come on, my little angel!" Lydia called him. The little boy, with his
fragile wings, smiled and walked closer to Lydia, his tender arms
thrown apart, as though he wanted to embrace her. She was delighted.
But as she extended her arms to receive him, there came a loud screech
from afar off. The little boy got frightened and flew away. In a flash,
he disappeared into the thin air.

Lydia woke with a start.
It was Twelve mid-night. Lydia's sleeping-corpse-husband, Marcus, lay
beside her, as cold as an ice. After a while, she heard the screech
again. It was coming from the next room - parrot's room. And it was a
familiar sound. The voice of Robert. Her enemy.
She remembered her dream and wondered what it meant. She never took
dreams seriously. But this very one, left some strange feelings inside
her. In that moment, she had the urge to look for a fortune-teller to
explain the dream to her. Her reason for worrying about this dream, was
because this was the third time she was dreaming the same dream. The
setting and plot had remained unchanged. So she now believed that it
was more than a night-mare. Weird dream.
Marcus, her husband was a lawyer, and not a sailor. But each time she
saw him in a dream, he was always a sailor. And sometimes, a fisherman.
Although they had lived for more than ten years in Lagos, she and her
husband never visited any beach. In fact, Marcus had always complained
he was allergic to rivers, streams, and swimming pools. So why was she
dreaming about sailing across the Atlantic with him, to a
never-heard-of Island? She once again looked at her sleeping husband.
Perplexed, she was tempted to wake him up and demand for some
explanation. Not that he would know the cause of the strange dream.
Nonetheless, she felt it wise to share her fears and worries with him.
Half way, her raised hand froze. Strange fears gripped her. On a closer
look to her sleeping husband, the picture she saw was that of a dead
person. Stone dead! She almost screamed, but something seemed to hold
her mouth. And at that moment, she felt badly pressed, and rushed to
the rest room, muttering some prayers. When she came back into the
room, she felt better. She stretched herself. Her body creaked. And at
that very moment, all her joints seemed to be in complete disrepair.
Immediately, she remembered one important thing. Quickly, she felt her
belly with her right palm. Oops! The baby was gone again. This was the
fourteenth month of her pregnancy. Mysterious pregnancy that always
vanished around mid-night, and re-appeared before dawn.
"Lydia! Lydia!" that was Robert calling from the parrots' room. He
always called her after mid-night. But she never answered the call.
Robert was her enemy, after all. This night, however, she decided to do
otherwise. So she got up and walked to the room - parrots' room. The
other two parrots: Johnny and Johnson, were fast asleep. Or they
pretended to be. For the first time, Lydia realized how concerned the
pet was, about her condition. With head drooped, he asked:
"The baby?"
"It's gone again!" Lydia replied, struggling to hold back tears.
"Will you listen to me this time?" Robert cooed gently.
"I will!" Lydia answered. She had no choice.
"My advice to you is simple. Remain in this room until
day-break."
"What do you mean?" Lydia asked with an air of hatred and
disbelief.
"Don't go into your husband's room, until the day breaks!" Robert
repeated.
"What will I tell my husband when he wakes, and notices that I did not
sleep with him? What will I tell him, that I'm doing here with
you?"
"Sh-ss!" Robert hushed. "I know the secrets of your husband. And his
secret is the answer to your problem."
"What secret? He hides nothing from me!" Lydia affirmed.
"He only tells you what he wants you to know."
Helpless and frustrated, Lydia did not argue further. She remained in
the parrots' room, unable to sleep. It was now five minutes before One
a.m. Nothing happened. But four hours later, it was a different story.
Heavy wind began to blow. It was like a hurricane, shaking the building
down to its very foundations. And suddenly, a great flash of lightning
engulfed the whole house. In the next second, it was pitch darkness.
Stillness returned. Shortly afterwards, footsteps were heard, entering
the other room - husband/wife room. Moments later, a glass dropped on
the floor and crashed. A strange cat began to mew. Lydia listened with
held breath. Next, a groan could be heard in the room. The voice was
clear and familiar. Marcus. In about two minutes, the groaning began to
increase, becoming louder and more painful, until the entire roof began
to vibrate. Lydia knew her husband was in danger. Perhaps he was having
a nightmare, she thought. So she wanted to go and help him out, to wake
him. Robert stopped her.
"If you go, the secret will be destroyed." Robert warned her.
Hours passed, and the shouting and groaning failed to stop. Day had
finally broken. The chaos had roused the attention of everybody that
lived in the vicinity. The cry had drawn so much sympathy from the
neighbors, that they all rushed out of their various houses, to Marcus'
fenceless bungalow. It could be an attack from armed robbers - as some
of the sympathizers, mostly men, carried riffles and machetes. While
other thought it was a fire outbreak. They carried buckets of
water.
Quite unexpectedly, what they saw would be best described as shocking,
absurd, and unbelievable. Standing in front of his bungalow, was
Marcus. He was stark naked. His belly protruded, shinning as though it
was about to burst.
"Hey!" screamed one mischievous boy that came along with her mother.
"Pregnant man!" A hard knock from his mother, sent the little boy,
flying.
"No!" intervened Marcus, his voice painful. "Do the innocent boy no
harm. He is right!"
It was at this point, that Robert led Lydia out of the parrots'
chamber, to the veranda. The moment she saw her husband, she collapsed
on the floor and fainted. Some women, carrying buckets of water rushed
to her. But before any drop of water could touch her, Robert ordered
them to stop.
"Lydia is healed!" Robert announced. "It's Marcus that needs medical
attention."
Immediately, one man rushed to his house, and came back in a car.
Marcus was put into it. They zoomed off, to a hospital. Too late. By
the time they reached their destination, Marcus gave up the
ghost.
Thirty minutes later, Lydia regained consciousness. She did not cry,
when she heard about her husband's sudden death. Those around had
expected her to cry. And when she did otherwise, they began to murmur
within themselves, that she was a wicked woman - a witch. But the case
was the other way round, as they later learned from Robert.
Marcus was a nocturnal being. He was half human and half spirit - evil
spirit. He belonged to a marine cult. It was a devilish cult, where
humans became inhuman. In this evil environment, human beings could
turn into women, and women, into men. Here, the young became old and
the old, young. It was a mystical world, where the destiny of men and
women got twisted and thwarted. Here, the fate of the innocent was
sued, tried and sentenced, without an option of fine or appeal. This
was the marine cult Marcus belonged to. He was a sole agent of
miscarriages and stillborns, often suffered by pregnant women. Although
he was a man in the physical world, in the mystical realm, marine
world, he was an ever-pregnant woman. And as long as he remained
pregnant, he would continue to achieve his exploits. Women would
continue to suffer miscarriages. Stillborns will continue to be
born.
What really happened was that every mid-night, the time for marine
meetings, Marcus, through devilish, mystical means, would manipulate
Lydia's pregnancy out of her womb. And would transfer it to his own
mystical womb. And while his physical body lay dead-asleep on his bed,
his mystical body would disappear with the pregnancy, to the deepest
depth of the Atlantic Ocean - the marine world, for marine-cult
meeting. And just before dawn, when the meeting was over, he would come
back into the room. Then through mystical means again, he would return
the pregnancy back to Lydia's womb. Today however, luck ran against
him. On his return, Lydia had left the room. So it was difficult for
him to complete his wicked act. He had, therefore, by this singular
mistake, been cut off from both the physical world and the mystical
realm - a world where sharks ministered friendly to men. A world of
golden palaces, built of walls of water. This was the world where the
kingdom of darkness fought war against the Kingdom of light. It
remained a mystery.

And the author of this short story you've just read, still has lots of
other beautiful stories, yet to be published. Feel free to contact the
him through this email address: kizitop@yahoo.com

THE END.