‘You can’t go on this trip, your Excellency.’ I stared blankly at Pastor Edward who had just ended his long speech about why I wasn’t supposed to travel, with that last statement. It took me about a minute to digest everything he had said.
‘So, all you’ve just said is, I’m not supposed to get on the plane because it’s going to crash. And I die?’ I asked.
‘Yes, yes. Our Father in Heaven revealed this to me at dawn today as I prayed.’
The man looked serious. He wasn’t joking. He held his Bible very close to his chest with his eyes closed as though he was communicating with spirits. I’ve known Pastor Edward for about three years. He was the one who encouraged me throughout my campaigning days. Prayed with and for me. Constantly called to check how I was doing. I didn’t forget him when I won the elections and was given mandate over the country. We were family now and he was like an older brother to me, which was why it was very difficult to discard everything he just said.
‘But this is a very important conference o, Eddie. I don’t think I’ll have a good enough excuse to warrant my absence.’ I was really worried.
You see, I had been invited by the United Nations Secretariat for an important world conference in New York. Terrorists had plagued a lot of its member countries and their new strategies had caused a lot of panic. They had infiltrated governments and databases of prominent organizations. You could be eating with one from the same plate and still wouldn’t know it was a spy. This was something I couldn’t miss and God would have to postpone my death.
‘Okay, if you say so then I’ve heard. I’ll think and pray about it,’ I said as I got up to see him to the door. He scrutinized every guard in their suits and dark glasses and probably wondered why so much protection was needed indoors.
‘John, there’s nothing to think about. Do not disobey God-’
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The alarm clocked yanked me out of my sleep, interrupting my dream. I slapped the top of the clock to make the noise stop. I was sweating, even with the air conditioner on full blast. What kind of dream was this? Maybe I was just anxious about the flight. Or was God speaking to me directly and decided to use Edward’s identity?
‘What is it?’ Agatha asked. Agatha is my wife. I told her about the dream and what Pastor Edward had said in it. She got worried, of course.
‘So what are you going to do? This could actually be God speaking to you o.’ She had a point but this wasn’t the time to deliberate.
‘I’m going on this trip. What can come can come.’
Everything was set. The technical team had checked everything and the jet was fine. No faults. As the plane took off, I said a little prayer. I wasn’t going to throw my relationship with God away because of a little dream. A dream that scared the hell out of me. But what were the odds?
Two hours… six hours… a few more, I guess.
The plane finally touched ground. We were here, and I was very much alive. Ha! I was very relieved, I won’t lie. Everyone probably noticed the aura of happiness that had suddenly engulfed me. It was a long trip and I needed a little rest before meeting the other Heads of State. The limo that had picked us up from the airport stopped in front of the hotel I was spending the night. My guards rushed to the door to fence me from the crowd as I got down from the car. I turned to wave and I saw the truck. I don’t know where it came from but it was coming in our direction. One of the guards tried to pull me out of the way but it was too late. It came right at us and sent my three guards and I flying. My head hit the ground with a loud thud. I could taste blood in my mouth and I felt it ooze out of every opening. The forty eight years I spent on earth played in my mind like a movie as I felt my soul leave my body.
‘HEY! HEY! YOU! WAKE UP!!’
I woke up abruptly, sweating. We were still on the plane. Aah. Another terrible dream, I thought to myself. I must’ve fallen asleep after I got tired of counting the hours. At least I was alive. But wait. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be alive for long. I turned to look at who the voice that woke me up belonged to. I met a gun right in my face. The owner wore a black turban with a long bushy beard. Terrorists! How were they even able to get on the plane? It might be an inside job, but maybe I wasn’t going to live long enough to find out.
‘God, if this is another dream, wake me up quickly.’