JUDAS...Part 3.

"Doctor! Nurse! He moved his hands! Jude moved his hands!"

A female voice was shouting nearby. I heard sounds of feet hurrying to the room. Where was I? Another part of hell? Where is the Messias? His loving look had enveloped me with pity. I had shed tears of contrition, albeit too late. The rays of light from His saving hands was like honeyed balm and soothed my soul. In an instant, I forgot about Lucifer, his legion of demons, the torments and the stench of evil in the place of damnation. All I felt was love. And inner peace. I was lost in ecstatsy.

The voices around me grew louder. I listened carefully. There were no cries of tormented souls. No wails of anguish from those been fried alive in the cauldron of boiling oil. I was yet to hear Lucifer's thundering, gloating voice. The voices sounded human. Someone touched my eyelids. Suddenly, I felt a flash of light flooded my left eye and then my right. I squinted at the light and tried to open my eyes. I saw a strange sight. 

I was lying in a bed surrounded by various boxes making beeping sounds. I felt a pipe in my mouth and another in my nose. I squirmed in discomfort. Some persons were surrounding my bed. A man wearing a white coat was looking at me strangely and moving my legs. Some females dressed in white walking hurriedly around the room. The man was speaking to them. Where was this? Heaven? A middle-aged woman dressed in plain funny-looking clothes was jumping with joy at the end of the room, occasionally bursting into songs. The language they spoke was not Aramaic but somehow, I understood them.

The man in white coat noticed my discomfort and told them to remove the pipe in my mouth and nose. I breathed fine afterwards. He kept looking at me with surprise. A middle-aged man rushed into the room and looked at me disbelievingly. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "My son! My son is back!" 

I looked at his face. I did not recognize him. The man in white coat spoke briefly with him and then turned to me.

"What is your name? Where is this place? Can you remember what happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was dry. I gestured for water. I felt better as I gulped down the cool fluid. 

"Judas." I said, after drinking. "Judas Iscariot."

They exchanged strange glances. The man in white had a frown on his face.

"I mean your name."

I nodded. "Judas. Judas Iscariot."

He shrugged. "Do you recognize these people?" He pointed at the man who just entered and the woman who had been singing.

I shook my head. They looked disappointed.

"Where is this place?" I asked.

"You are in a hospital," the man in white coat said. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"The Messias. I was in the hell of the damned. The Messias forgave my betrayal and healed my soul."

They exchanged curious glances again.

"Who is this Messias?" He was writing something. But I could detect concern in his voice.

"Jesus. The Nazarene. I was one of His apostles."

"You are not Judas Iscariot!" It was the woman. She was crying as she spoke. "You are Jude Isikaro. My son!" The man tried to console her. I found her assertions very strange. How come?

The man beside her spoke to the man in a white coat. "Dr. Gbenga, what is wrong with my son?"

The doctor shook his head. "Dr. Isikaro, I think your son may have retrograde amnesia. It is not out of place given the trauma he had. But believe me, his case is a pure miracle. Most patients from failed suicide attempts usually have debilitating health challenges. Most who are rescued from hanging usually have their brain permanently damaged, such that they would need intensive care for the rest of their lives. So, I am still in shock that Jude not only came out from a month's coma, he is talking and moving his limbs. His loss of memory is the least of our problems."

The couple sighed in relief. The doctor said I should be allowed to rest and left the room. The couple sat quietly in the corner occasionally glancing at the bed. After some time, the woman came up to the bed. She was smiling.

"Jude nwa m. My son. I am overjoyed that you have woken up. Everyone had given up hope. Everyone, except me and your dad."

"You are not my mother. I don't recognise you."

She stroke my head. "Jude..."

"And stop calling me Jude! I am Judas. My father is Simon from Kerioth in Judea. My mother is Cyborea..."

The man stood up and shot me an angry look.

"Stop that! Will you?" He turned to the woman. 

"Cecilia, allow the boy some time to rest. Maybe when he fully comes to, he would give me a good reason why a sixteen year old seminarian from a wealthy home will decide to hang himself over a girl!" He stormed out of the room.

His words stunned me. Sixteen years old? Seminarian? I looked down at my hands and feet. They were dark. Is this a new life or the continuation of my old one?I looked at the woman. She was dark-skinned and beautiful. She looked worried.

"Madam, I seriously think there has been a huge misunderstanding. First, I am not your son. Second, I am no seminarian. Yes, I tried committing suicide, but hung by accident. But it was not and can never be because of a girl! I was married in Judea with two children before the Messias called me..."

"You are still a teenager. You have never been married."

I shut my eyes in deep thought. These people are crazy! Something is definitely wrong.

"Jude, don't stress yourself. It will all come back to you. Again."

There was something calm and loving in her voice. In a way, she sounded like the Messias.

Three days passed. I had started eating and walking around. The food was different but tasted good. I stood by the window and looked into the street below. The world had changed completely. No camels or donkeys anywhere. There were moving boxes called 'cars'. It felt strange but strangely felt familiar. I asked Cecilia about Herod, Pontius Pilate and the Roman Empire. She laughed and told me they are all history.

"We are in the twenty-first century. The Messiah died more than two thousand years ago."

She gave me a book. "It may contain some answers."

It was the Christian scriptures. I opened the book eagerly. It had two parts. The old and the new testaments. The old testament felt very familiar. My eyes lit up.

"Christianity is just advanced Judaism," I said, as I flipped through the pages.

"How?" she asked.

"Your old testament is just the same as the Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim."

She looked surprised. "What are those?"

"The Pentateuch or books of Moses, the Prophets and the remaining writings."

"But we have the new testament as well."

I laughed. "That was the advancement."

I spent the whole night reading the new testament. The story of the Messias was looking scant. If only they knew all that He did! He was a phenomenon. None of the writers captured His loving eyes. Those eyes that spoke tons of love. I proceeded to the Acts of the Apostles. I froze at the first chapter. I was replaced? With Matthias? I closed the book and put it away, heart-broken.

The next morning, some boys came to visit me, dressed in a sort of uniform. They were led by a man in white overall. My 'mum' smiled as she introduced them.

"They are from your seminary. This is your Rector, Monsignor Adibe and your classmates."

I did not recognize any of their faces.

The Monsignor spoke. "We are glad that you are awake. We have been praying ceaselessly for your full recovery. God has finally answered our prayers." He turned to my 'mum'. "He was our Senior Prefect and our overall best student. He was outstanding in History, Liturgy and Latin."

She smiled proudly. The boys took turns to hold my hands.

"We missed you, Jude." The Rector's voice was laden with emotions.

"I told you that you were a seminarian," my 'mum' said, when they left. "You were an outstanding student. That was why this incident took everyone by surprise."

"But I don't know those people!" My confusion was doubled. I needed answers.

My 'mum' held me reassuringly. "Don't worry. Whether you are Judas or Jude, my love for you stays the same. I can't believe I was this close to losing you."

She was sobbing. I hugged her. I may not remember her, but her love for me was palpable.

"Just give me some time. Maybe I would remember."

That evening, my 'father' visited again. He looked relaxed and smiled at me as he entered.

"The Rector was here today, with some seminarians," my 'mum' told him.

"Oh! Good," he said. "I just pray they will take him back. Though, it seems very unlikely. I hope he has taken his afternoon medications?"

"Yes."

"Are they helping? Has he remembered?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "Dr. Gbenga also said he may also have a Dissociative Identity Disorder, which may be as a result of the trauma. That may be why he sees himself as Judas Iscariot."

Just then, a girl appeared at the doorway. She looked happy to see me. Her caramel-coloured skin and beautiful face struck me as she approached the bedside. She smiled at me.

"Cynthia, my darling. Welcome," my 'mum' said as she embraced her. She greeted my 'parents', all the while looking at me in disbelief.

"I am so happy you are awake," she said, holding my hands.

I smiled. That was the most I could do in the midst of strange persons who expected me to remember them. I have stopped tasking my brain since it came up with nothing.

My 'mum' sent her to buy some fresh fruits. I watched her slender form walk gracefully out of the room.

"Who is she?" I asked my 'mum'.

She shook her head. "She is your 'supposed' girlfriend for whom you hung yourself. She was on her way to our house to see you when she got your text stating why you were dying. Her speed to break into the house and cut the rope on your neck is the reason why you are still here, breathing. She saved your life."

I opened my mouth to speak. No words came out.

© Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

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