Finally the billionaire’s order was carried out. Brian refused to wear his cloths.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Aye!”

He groaned and wailed at the tops of his voice and I perceived they were whipping him now.

But why would a rightful thinking person refuse to wear his cloths? And why would they whip a grown up in his right senses. I was beginning to suspect mental derangement.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Aye!”

The wailing ravaged the entire mansion, and Opula was forced to go on her knees and pled on his behalf.

“Father, please, I beg of you. Have mercy upon Brian you know his condition. If they continue to whip him with such callousness, they will hurt him and he doesn’t need to appear distraught since today is his day. I suggest we opt for gentler way of bringing him out…”

Fanny interrupted her, “Enough of that!” his voice frisked. “That boy has cost me a lot pain and impairment. He has embarrassed me before Rio Hondo. He has dragged the name of my family in the mud and if he is not careful, I will disown him and send him to the home for the insane. Yes I can do that!”

Fanny ground his jaw as I could see thunder and brimstone etched on his face. His expression hardened as he gazed upon Opula, who was still on her knees.

Opula bowed her head, “No father you would do no such thing,” decorum possessed her voice “Permit me to go right away and bring him peacefully,” she demanded.

Fanny gazed upon her with a mesh scowl on his face, as though he was reminding her that he would inflict more annoying pain on Brian if he should refused to come out with her.

“You may go and bring him if only he will cooperate with you”, he ordered.

At the time, the securities were still struggling with him and whipping the hell out of him. Brian’s heavy wailing and gnashing of teeth hung over us. And once Opula got there, every struggle came to an abrupt end and the wailing stopped. The whipping paused and gently she came out with Brian, and stood holding him by the arm.

The image struck in my head; those thick, pink, kiss-it lips, watery, blue eyes that smeared like the sky above, body that seemed skinny yet with traces of muscles and ridges he earned at the gym. Yet with those traces of cuteness, he was still looking unkempt with scraggly unshaven beards and saliva gathered around his mouth, just like the other day at the market.

I shouted, “You!” I pointed at him and felt like demanding for repayment of my vegetables which he squandered at the market

Everyone glared at me, and Fanny shot his frown at me in bewilderment.

“Wait a minute. Have you met my son before? Do you know Brian Fanny before now? “Fanny queried me and shot an obnoxious star ate me.

I pointed at him and broke down in tears. “This is the same mad boy that ate my raw vegetables at the market while I was fast asleep! It is him!” I wailed.

“You keep shut!” Opula barked at me, “How dare you refer to my only brother as mad, uh? What insolence,” her jaw clenched.

Fanny interrupted with a chuckle.“Steady on, daughter,” he said to Opula, and then burned when he flashed his scowled face at me. “He had a huge grin and continued, “For the record, his name is Brian Fanny, my only son. He became mysteriously mentally deranged and we as a family can’t sit back and watch him deteriorate and live an abnormal life that is why we are trying to give him the best out of life. Your mother is ill at the hospital. She needs half a million dollars to survive. My son is mentally deranged. He needs a companion to keep him warm at night and take care of him whenever he needs a heart and a hand. My lawyer is here,” he pointed to a lanky, tall, ponytail, Caucasian young man in twenties. “Barrister Coleman can you advance to the front please,” he beckoned and kept at his grin.

The barrister advanced just then and brought out some documents from his brief case.

“Melissa,” Fanny called yet again “You will sign to a contract marriage with my son this minute. You will become his legally married wife and be bound by the contract, and in return, I will give you this credit card of half a million dollars, which I believe will sort out your mother’s medical bills. He repeated himself more emphatically, “I will give you the money but you must sign a contract marriage with my mad son.”

I swallowed hard and rolled my tongue within my mouth to swallow hard yet again but couldn’t find any saliva. My entire body shook in fear and disgust. Balls of sweat had wet my brow and delivered chilled nervousness across my skin.

Me? Melissa? A virgin? What in the name of thunder would make me sign to a contract marriage with a mad man! What were they thinking? Were they thinking I would jump into the agreement because I was a poor vegetable seller? Or did they believe I would have no option than to accept the marriage because my mother was dying in the hospital?

I looked at Brian and I became even more irritated; his hair had turned gray, unkempt and thong-like. His hands were scraggly, grisly and beards unshaven, all over his mouth was saliva and each time he smiled, his once-white dentition flashed at me. The blisters and reddened fresh wounds on his body were in their numbers. His cloths were torn, and rumpled as rags. He often gave a toothy smile and scratched his beards and hair, even slapped his cheeks at interval.

Obviously this boy was violently mad and this rich family wanted me to sign to a horrible contract marriage because they knew I was earnestly in need of money.

No. it can’t be!

I raised my head confidently and said, “Sir, with all due respect I am not interested.

All eyes flashed at me…

I returned to the hospital all tears and sucked into my gloom. My head heaved upon me and I felt withdrawn from this world. What was that? Can somebody remind me what just happened at the Fanny’s mansion?

Am I dreaming or what? God forbid that I marry a mad man. How could they be so cruel and heartless? They knew I was in dire need of the money. They perceived the money meant the whole world to me right now and the only way they could rip me off it was to give me the condition of marrying their mad son.

Who does that? Can you imagine! I can’t picture myself settling down for a mad man all in the name of marrying a billionaire’s son. I was often niggled by its impossibility whenever I thought of it.

Mother’s health was plunging me into all this. I didn’t want my mother to die. Neither did I have money for burial. I was naïve and rudderless at the moment. I would be twenty two in few days and the last factor on my mind was marriage.

What would become of me now?

“You could still scuttle back to the Fanny’s and sign the contract marriage.” A voice said in my head.

“No. No” I mumbled within myself, rejecting the idea of returning to the Fanny’s villa to sign the contract marriage agreement. If I could remember the last time I peered between my legs I was still a virgin. I looked forward to the day I would fall in love, with a handsome looking, responsible man with his sanity intact and before that I would have been through with college.

I couldn’t imagine myself opening my legs for a madman. Oh my God. How would I survive staying in the same room with a mad man, who could bite me to death the next minute? I could feel the palpitation going in my heart and I could tell I was not fated to be married to a mad man.

His unkempt looks were still in my thought. The saliva that smeared around his mouth and unshaven beards still offended my decency. Hmm! no! There must be a way out.

A contract marriage wasn’t the way out and would never be.

I would speak sense into the doctor and he would treat mother on credit, later I will work hard and pay up; I thought.

Did I actually hear myself? Will I be able to pay back half a million dollars? Is it with the dirty looking vegetables I sell?

“Oh my God! I am stuck! No!”

I was swallowed in my predicament when the door creaked, opened, and the doctor pranced into the ward hastily.

I looked at his lab coat and the badge pinned on his chest and I saw his name; Dr. Peter Northwick. He looked elegantly charismatic and easy-going, but inwardly he could be a hard nut to crack.

“Oh Melissa, you are back right on time today” his voice sounded optimistic, and I wanted to take advantage of his contagious smile to demand he treat mother on credit.

“Yes, Dr. Peter,” I said calmly and lowered my gaze, not interested to lock eyes with him each time he dared to meet my gaze.

I wanted to speak yet further when he interposed me, “Do you have the half a million dollars now?”

I kept silent as the wind and fondled with my fingers. Would he ever be smart to know that this girl fondling with her fingers couldn’t afford a square meal let alone half a million dollars?

“Melissa! Am I not talking to you?” he let an emphatic tone and his expression hardened.

I cast a pitiable look at mother, who was on live support now. I stole a glance at mother and wished the doctor could follow my gaze and see enough reason that poor woman shouldn’t ‘kick the bucket.’

Doctor peter ground his jaw at me; indeed he was upset now. “Well I can see you don’t have the money. I believe you can see your mother’s condition; she is on life support. Do you know the meaning of life support?” he queried with his face peered at me as though he was my class teacher.

I raised a furrowed brow at him and forced a nod.

His lips curled when he said, “It means your mother is an inch away from death. I gave you twenty four hours. And by the time now it is eight hours to twenty four hours. As soon as it is time, I will disconnect the life support mechanism and she will breathe her last. That will be her abrupt end. I don’t think you know what autosomal dominant polycystic is.”

I fell on my knees. My eyes swam with tears as I pressed my lips together to fight back sob.

“Please doctor, I beg of you. Attend to my mother on credit. I promise to work hard and pay up later,” I wailed, and clenched on his feet.

“Can you hear yourself? If I may ask; may I know what you do for a living?” he queried, and gave me anxious glare.

“I didn’t want to reply him initially but for the anxiety hanging in his eyes.

“I – I” I stuttered, sniffed repeatedly and got swallowed in shame and peril. Unhesitant, I mumbled, “I am a vegetable seller.”

“Or did you forget to add poor to it? Do you think I don’t know you ar the poor vegetable seller at Rio Hondo Market? Listen up Melissa, or whatever you call yourself. You can’t afford half a million dollars even if you and your generations sell vegetables till the end of time.”

Those words by the doctor ravaged my heart so greatly that I covered my face in shame. Most of the horrible words spoken to me by people often resurrected forgotten nightmares about my poverty.

Indeed the poor were limited in this life and I have experienced it.

My lower lip trembled as I said coldly, “Ok doctor, please attend to my dying mother. Let her just stay alive while I and my generation work for you till the end of time without any salary. Please,” I begged and fell down to his legs.

“You must be insane,” he pulled out his feet from my grip. “Let go off my feet. You have twenty four hours! Twenty four hours!” he beamed and gave me a dirty look.

The door slammed – he had left as thunder.

I wailed, carried mother’s palms into mine as my tears trickled and dropped into her palms.

“How would you feel if the son of a billionaire whose sanity is not impaired is given to you in marriage because his family sees you are in need of money and marrying their mad son is the only price to pay?” I almost chafed at Nurse Stella.

At the time, I had taken my time to know most of the names of staff at the hospital.

And it was the same Nurse Stella that took me to the Fanny’s villa some days ago to see if the billionaire could be of help. She was the only one I could complain to. I wanted to seek her opinion.

All my life I have grown to be jaunty but this time I was losing it. What was going on in my life at the time was more than being trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea.

“I would feel bad and even go crimson. Why would they do that to you?” she intoned, gritted her teeth and let a sullen look on her face.

“The billionaire feels I can’t pay back half a million dollars so the only way I could do that was by signing to a contract marriage agreement with his mad son,” I nagged on, as warm tears burnt my eyes before it trickled down my cheeks.

She rubbed me on the shoulder and petted me. But I was already addle and going bananas. Mother’s ailment had brought upon me conditions I never thought could come my way.

I breathed hard, “That is my condition right now. The half a million dollars needed for mother’s treatment are ready but the price to pay is settling down with the billionaires mad son. Can you imagine,” I complained bitterly and wiped my tears.

My eyes narrowed.

She brought me into her embrace, wiped my tears and stroked my auburn hair. “I can imagine your plight right now. Life has never been fair to us.”

I brought an anxious gaze upon the wall clock and perceived I had just five hours to take a decision otherwise the doctor would do as he said.

That very Dr. Peter I saw some minutes ago was capable of doing what he said. He was mean and cruel, as though the Fanny’s bribed him to blow hot at me.

“But Melissa,” she spoke softly into my face and stroked my long, scattered auburn hair. Her voice seemed to be leaden with some iota of conviction, “What would you want? Would you want to keep to your perception while your mother dies like a kitten? How much can you sacrifice to save the one you love?”

I sniffed and shot my anger-suffused face into her eyes. “What are you insinuating I do, uh? Are you telling me to scuttle back to the Fanny’s and sign to that contract marriage? Is that what you are insinuating?”

She shook her head, “Perk up, Melissa. Steady on. But I am sorry to say this. You just have to do the needful.”

My tears surged faster now. I swallowed hard, and was possessed slovenly by my impending fate. “Are you insinuating I return to the Fanny’s and sign to a contract marriage with the mad son, uh? Do you realize that I am at my prime and still a virgin?” my voice shrieked with sorrow.

She shook her head in pity and suddenly her eyes welled up with tears as she used her handkerchief to dab on it.

“I am so sorry to sound horrible, Melissa. I can feel the pain of a poor girl who is only wishing she could give her mother the best without the stringent conditions of life. Sometimes I wish we could take a leap at life without snapping our bones.”

I was wailing hugely now when what I heard next spiked into my ears.

“You just have to return to the Fanny’s, yes,” she affirmed cautiously, noticing I was going to be mad at her

I pulled from her and blinked nervously into her face. I glowered as I felt her words churn my stomach.

“I …”

She wanted to speak yet further and I interrupted. “I beg your pardon, nurse. Are you advising me to return to the Fanny’s and become the legally married wife of a mad man? Do you know how traumatized I would be? How do you expect me to share same roof, same bed, with a man that is not just insane but violently insane? Do you realize he is the most violent mad man in Rio Hondo? Oh my God …” I held onto my head and stroked it confusedly.

I held my face in total bewilderment and stroked my hair in disgust. How cruel and inconsiderable this life could be. Everything was hitting hard at me now.

“I would feel much hurt if we lose your mother. I would be disappointed in you if she dies while you could have saved her. I …”

“Keep shut now! Keep shut. Just …” my wailing voice interrupted me and choked back my words. “You know what, just go. I want to be left alone, let me think about my life.”

“I… I am sorry to sound horrible, Melissa. I mean well for you. But that is the price to pay if really your mother must stay alive for you.”

“I can’t imagine myself opening my legs for a mad man in the name of marriage. I can’t marry him!” I snapped …

“No, no, you mustn’t do that. All you need to do is sign the contract marriage, become his legal wife. You can share the same roof but not the same bed. You can deny him your body, and remain a virgin. Is he not mad? He has lost his sanity and doesn’t understand the word sex let alone feel horny like a normal, sane, person would?

I shook my head, “No, no, no, I don’t need your conviction anymore. I don’t need it. Oh my God. Why me? Why was I fated for this? Why?”

I wailed on with my trembling hands masking my face.

Suddenly, mother’s picture flashed in my head and it was accompanied with a conviction to do the needful. It was more tensed than clamor...