Nunnery

 Inside the bus, Ivie kept telling the driver, it was a mistake, except that each time she took a different approach. 

 One time she said. "You're sick in the head if you don't believe me, I'm Ivie in Itohan's body!"

 To which the driver replied, "No, I'll be sick in the head if I believe you."

 She went quiet for a while before shouting again, "Stupid bitch!"

 The driver looked back at the rear view mirror. "For a student you do have such a foul tongue."

 "Okay, I'm sick in the head, I agree, just turn around and let me speak to Father Chibuike, huh?"

 "And so he'll be the one to believe you?"

 You bet, that priest is as crazy as this story is. But she didn't say that aloud. "Of course not, but Father Chibuike and I have some unfinished business"

 The driver drove to the side and stopped the vehicle. "I will move this car only if you decide to be sane. If you keep up this lunatic behaviour, we're going to sleep here."

 Ivie gaped at him. "You said you had other things to do."

 The driver took his phone out of his pocket. "If I switch off my phone, the school won't be able to reach out to me, they're going to assume I have an accident and give someone else my duties. You know what I'll do?" He pointed to a tiny restaurant across the road. "I'll go in there and have a feast while I lock you in. So what's it going to be, are you going to shut up and let me in peace or do you want to spend the whole day locked in my car?"

 "It's not a car," Ivie murmured, frowning. Would who have thought menial school staff could be so harsh? "Fine!" She surrendered, her both arms in the air. "What's your name, Mr?"

 "Why does that matter?"

 "So that I can pray for you and your car, pray against road accidents." She offered a tight smile. 

 The driver ignored her. "So what is it going to be, should I drive or not?"

 "Tell me your name at least, it'll be good that somebody knows your name. Tell me your name and I'll give you peace."

 The driver huffed in annoyance. "Enoma. Now shut up."

 "I'm going to pray for you for being such a good driver."

 The driver heard her and the sarcastic tone her voice carried, but ignored her. 

 She closed her eyes and prayed he would develop a bald head that would make him unattractive to women, she prayed that on his most annoying day his bus would break down in the middle of nowhere, especially far from a fuel station or mechanic station and as he would stand there sweat stricken and as he would beg God for a favour, he would remember how she begged him today and he would feel how she was feeling now. 

 "Amen!" She said aloud and then clamped her mouth shut, keeping her end of the bargain. What would she have expected? How would the driver believe her? She could hardly believe it herself. 

 She sighed and relaxed into her seat while the driver stepped on the accelerator. 

 Two hours before midday, the driver pulled in front of a huge gate. She sat upright, alert. The fence was high and although the walls were freshly painted, Ivie could tell it was an old building from the decor. 

 The driver got down from the vehicle and went around to the boot, bringing her luggage and dropping them in front of the gate. 

 Ivie stayed in. 

 He knocked on the window. "Do you want to sleep in there?"

 Ivie added a quick prayer to her list; if the driver ever got married, it should be to the most difficult woman ever, before she pulled the door open and stepped down. 

 The driver had finished bringing her things out. He said, "Ring the bell, and tell them you're here to serve your detention, they already know." Then he started to walk away. 

 "Wait, what? You're leaving me?" Ivie asked disbelievingly. 

 "I have other things to do, I can't chaperone you." He didn't bother to stop. 

 Chaperone her? Who was asking that he did that? "You, evi incarnate," she cursed as the car veered into motion. "I pray a heavy rain should start falling so you'll have no option but to park your stupid vehicle somewhere and after the rain has fallen, your vehicle would sink in the thickest puddle ever and you'll spend your whole day trying to get it out," she said, then quickly added. "But only after I've gone inside."

 She checked her pocket if the money she always carry around was still there, only to remember that she was now in Itohan's body. She groaned, knowing the girl, she doubted she left any money in her luggage. 

 She sighed, it seems she had no choice. She carried her things with one hand and rang the bell on the other. She waited for a while wondering what the place was, huge gate and high fence. She was going to ring the second time when she heard the gate unlocking. 

 A nun appeared. "Good morning, you must be Itohan?"

 Ivie didn't know whether to bless the heavens or curse the earth. She would have gladly accepted a change of environment, not take her away from a convent school and bring her to a—she stuck her head inside, as if she had no plans of entering, and saw other nuns going about their business. "Is this a convent?"

 The nun smiled. "Generally, but we call this part of it the nunnery, while the other part where the monks live, the monastery. Come in, I'll help you with that." She grabbed her luggage before she could protest and ushered her in. "I'm Sister Rita by the way, and I already know your name and why you're here."

 Ivie held back a harsh remark and watched, in awe, the other nuns. To think that she came from a convent school herself. It just felt so different to see many sisters in one place and it made her feel so out of place, especially because she's the odd one. She asked the nun, "Do you all live here?"

 "Of course." The nun sounded surprised she asked. "And for the next two weeks, you're going to do same. Let me show you to your room before I take you to see Mother Jose."

 "Mother Jose?"

 "She's the mother of the nunnery, an old lovely soul. But despite how lovely, she's still an old woman, and you know how old people are."

 Ivie's interest was piqued. "How?"

 Well, the nun shrugged. "Saying things, forgetting things and insisting they were there, telling tales of old time," she laughed, "you could go to her and say you saw the ghost of your dog that has been dead for fifteen years and she would treat you like yours is the most interesting story ever, encouraging you to go on, giving you undivided attention. If you didn't know better, you'd call her crazy."

 Ghost of dead dog? Crazy? That was exactly what Ivie needed right now. "Can we go to her first? I have a crazy story that would interest her," she murmured the last bit to herself.