THE CONFLICT 1

I sat frozen, on one side of the large hotel bed when the knock came more insistently the second time.

'Knock! Knock!! Knock!!!'

I was nervous and didn't know what to answer because I knew who it was. The taboo of the anticipated, mixed with resistance against the voice of reason screaming in my head, plus every teaching I had heard on immorality, produced an ambivalent sensation. I couldn't properly classify if it was fear or desire; but I could feel the adrenaline rush.

'Knock! Knock!! Knock!!!'

I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn't make out words. Then the door knob turned slowly and the door creaked opened slightly. Her head and shoulders jutted out from behind the door. When she saw I was the one, she walked in and locked the door behind her. All she had was a phone and charger.

I had been trying to play cool and act as normal as possible, like I was used to this; I fiddled with my phone. As she sauntered in and through to the other side of the bed, I could see she had on a very skimpy, silk night gown that stopped some distance above the knees. The purple colored silk gown was contrasted by her smooth light skin invitingly, in the bulky Panasonic TV light. Thoughts were flying. 'Ahhh...succubus of life, into your hands I commit my sense. Tonight, we die!'

She eased into the bed, got one of the four pillows, and propped herself with it on the bed head. Then she looked at me with a sullen, serious look.

'What of the cash?' she asked, her eyeballs fixed firmly on me.

In that seemingly eternal 3 seconds pause before replying, as I stared back into her eyes, I saw her without the make up she had on when we first spoke about 1 hour ago, how young she really was, the self loathing, uncertainties and hurts. Her eyes, it seemed, told a dozen stories. Stories I didn't want to hear for conscience sake. An ox heading to certain doom, damning every other voice.

"Man of God! What are you doing here, you're better than this!"

Those words screamed in my mind and must have echoed some 70x7 times! When you have the life, it's not easy suppressing guidance that points away from the wrong path.

Denying the inner turmoil I was having, I smiled and brought out half of the money from the inside of the drawer on my side of the bed and handed it to her.

'So, I have your company here all night, right?... You'll get the rest before you leave in the morning.'

I tried to sound confident, casual and manly but I could still hear that nervous pitch in my words! Usually, I was bold and very outgoing, but I wasn't myself that night: deep inside I was revolting yet I wanted this.

'For where? Abeg oh, no use me play! How am I sure I'm getting my complete money? That's how, all the others usually...'

'Relax', I cut her off, 'I can't cheat you, I'm a man of God!'

Oops. I did not plan that last line, it almost reflexively rolled out of my mouth.

She burst out laughing and fell off her side of the bed, spewing the money all over the bed. I knew I had goofed, I didn't know the procedure for visiting the ladies of the red light district; it's not like there's a manual for rookies.

By this time, I felt really stupid. First, as a Christian, I wasn't supposed to be in such situation, also I was about to part with money that could have been used for something reasonable, and of all blunders I had to bring God inside the immorality! Well, he was already there anyhow.

When she got up, she was still having less intense fits of laughter. Her hair net had fallen off and her braids were cascaded over her head; she looked even prettier. She had lost the serious, 'business' look and in its place was a playful grin.

Call her prostitute, call her whore, or whatever other name but all I saw in that brief instant was somebody's sister, somebody's daughter; another hurting little girl on self destruction mode.

'Come, how old are you and why are you doing this with your life?' I asked, as I joined her in her resumed laughter.

Here I was with her in the same mess, even more guilty than her if we're to weigh matters properly and I was fighting the urge to not lecture her. Humanity!

'Man of God!' She stressed the God as she playfully pushed my shoulder. 'Did you miss road to the prayer meeting? You, what are you doing here with me, ehn?'

She was asking playfully but that question struck deep in my heart. I knew I didn't have impetus enough for the matter and that if we continued discussing, I would not go through with it. Massive clashes of thoughts were still going on in my mind.

'How can I be desiring a call girl? Even non-Christians don't do this one, they stick with a partner!'

She sensed my hesitance and pushed me down to the bed. She crossed her leg over me and sat astride me. And leaned down till our noses were just a short distance from each other, while her hands pressed down on either side of me. I was tensed in the moment. She was playful.

'See, I usually don't treat customers like this but I like you, Oga Man of God, you remind me of my very first boyfriend in secondary school...and I like fair guys!'

She kissed me on the lip. All the resistance and traces of common sense began to seep out; faster than water from a rafia basket!

TO BE CONTINUED...