Almost Perfect The Locklaine Boys 3

1st Edition Prince Jessica

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://textbookfull.com/product/almost-perfect-the-locklaine-boys-3-1st-edition-prince
-jessica/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

The Messenger Professionals 3 1st Edition Jessica

Gadziala Gadziala Jessica

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-messenger-
professionals-3-1st-edition-jessica-gadziala-gadziala-jessica/

Wings of the Night Prince Wrath of the Fae 3 1st

Edition Thorn Alessa

https://textbookfull.com/product/wings-of-the-night-prince-wrath-
of-the-fae-3-1st-edition-thorn-alessa/

Rough Rider Sugar County Boys 3 1st Edition Madison

Faye

https://textbookfull.com/product/rough-rider-sugar-county-
boys-3-1st-edition-madison-faye/

Maxen (Broken Hill Boys #3) 1st Edition Sheridan Anne

[Anne

https://textbookfull.com/product/maxen-broken-hill-boys-3-1st-
edition-sheridan-anne-anne/
Natural Born Killers Sick Boys 3 1st Edition Lucy Smoke

https://textbookfull.com/product/natural-born-killers-sick-
boys-3-1st-edition-lucy-smoke/

Falling Hard Saddlehill Academy 3 1st Edition Jessica

Burkhart

https://textbookfull.com/product/falling-hard-saddlehill-
academy-3-1st-edition-jessica-burkhart/

Dark Highway Jessica Shaw 3 1st Edition Lisa Gray

[Gray

https://textbookfull.com/product/dark-highway-jessica-shaw-3-1st-
edition-lisa-gray-gray/

The Dragon Prince s Bride Royal Dragons of Alaska 3 1st

Edition Elva Birch Birch Elva

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-dragon-prince-s-bride-royal-
dragons-of-alaska-3-1st-edition-elva-birch-birch-elva/

Ace Big Boys of Beaumont High 3 1st Edition Allie

Scott [Scott

https://textbookfull.com/product/ace-big-boys-of-beaumont-
high-3-1st-edition-allie-scott-scott/
Table of Contents
Front Matter
Other Books By Jessica Prince
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Find Jessica at
 Almost Perfect
The Locklaine Boys series
by Jessica Prince
Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Prince
All rights reserved.

Visit my website at www.authorjessicaprince.com

Editor: Erin Garcia
Cover Designer: Tara Sivec
Interior Design & Proofing: Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system
without the written permission of the author, except for the use of
brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and

incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental
 THE PICKING UP THE PIECES SERIES
Picking up the Pieces
Rising from the Ashes
Pushing the Boundaries
Worth the Wait

THE COLORS NOVELS

Scattered Colors
Shrinking Violet
Love Hate Relationship
Wildflower

THE LOCKLAINE BOYS (a LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP spinoff):

Fire & Ice
Opposites Attract
Almost Perfect

THE PEMBROOKE SERIES (a WILDFLOWER spinoff):

Sweet Sunshine
Coming Full Circle
A Broken Soul – Quinn and Lilly’s book (coming February 2017)

DEADLY LOVE SERIES

Destructive
Addictive
Obsessive – Aldo and Carmen’s story (coming April 2017)

OTHER TITLES
Nightmares from Within
 CO-WRITTEN TITLES:
Hustler – with Meghan Quinn
To every woman who has wanted her very own unicorn:
Never settle, he’s out there waiting for you.
I’VE ALWAYS BELIEVEDin unicorns.
Not of the “mythical horse with a long-ass horn on the top of its
head that screams ‘stabbing hazard’” variety. That would be silly.
What I’m talking about is even more mythical, more wondrous
than a stupid pony with a weird growth on its forehead.
No, what I’m talking about is the perfect man with the perfect
penis that knows exactly how to use it Every. Single. Time.
Now that’s magic.
Fuck the stupid horse.
Now, I understand that there aren’t many women in the world
who believe in this majestic creature. They’ve been burned one too
many times. Either the man seems perfect in every way, then you
get him into bed only to be disappointed by his lack of skills or his
micro-penis, or you’re on the opposite end of the spectrum where
the dude is packing an anaconda and can make you speak in
tongues, but every time he opens his mouth you find yourself
wondering if jail time would be worth it because he’s just that big of
a douche.
Side note: If a woman’s smart, she’ll settle for the former
category. At least that guy is a decent human being. And with any
luck, you could teach him a few tricks in the bedroom that will give
you what you need at least fifty percent of the time. But all too
often, women settle for the asshole. I should know. I’ve been one of
those not-so-smart women a time or two myself.
But back to unicorns. Now I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself
‘silly Devon, unicorns aren’t real.’
Oh, but they are. They so are. And no, before you ask, I’ve never
been the lucky bitch who dated a unicorn. But my best friend is! And
let me tell you, seeing her so unbelievably happy is totally worth the
occasional bitter twist of jealousy that makes me throw up a little bit
in my mouth every so often.
And if spotting one unicorn wasn’t enough, the bastard is from a
whole line of unicorns! It took me a few months to get used to all
the perfection that was the Locklaine bloodline, but seeing as my
BFF decided to shack up with her very own Locklaine unicorn,
leaving his unicorn cousin homeless before offering up the spare
bedroom in my apartment, I didn’t really have any other choice but
to suck it up and deal.
In the past, I would have been all over trying to snag Collin
Locklaine for myself. The guy was gorgeous, charming, gorgeous,
employed, gorgeous, funny, and gorgeous. And yes, I know I
repeated gorgeous like a gazillion times, but that’s just how hot the
dude is.
Unfortunately, before we became roomies, I’d just had my heart
stomped on by another jerk-face bastard who didn’t deserve me, so
I’d been on a self-imposed Man Strike. And if that weren’t bad
enough, Collin was still all kinds of hung up on his stupid bitch of an
ex-fiancée.
There was a time when I might have had a teensy-tiny little crush
on him, but the longer we lived together, the easier it was for the
two of us to fall into that renowned friend-zone. And while it might
have stung at first that he wasn’t trying to get into my pants, we
eventually formed a bond that, I must admit, was pretty freaking
awesome.
But here’s the problem.
I’m a girl.
 That means I’m prone to being overly emotional at the most
inopportune times. It also means that when I have a dude living
under the same roof as me, who just so happens to check off every
box on my What Devon Wants in a Man list, feelings are bound to
eventually pop up.
It isn’t ideal, but it’s life.
And if my life had proven anything to me, it was that men wanted
that perfect damsel-in-distress-never-wears-yoga-pants-in-public,
fragile female that they could protect and cherish. They didn’t want
the loud, sometimes (always) vulgar, independent woman who could
change her own flat tire and thought elastic waistbands in pants
were the tits.
Another side note: I’m totally that last one.
So the fact that I was living with a unicorn who pined after his
perfect ex-fiancée, even though she was obviously a dumbass,
eventually went from all fun and games to a complete, punch-you-
in-the-gut pain in my ass.
Because I wasn’t the perfect woman that men like Collin
Locklaine wanted. Hell, I was barely even Almost Perfect.
So I’d happily painted myself with the friendship brush and gone
on about my merry way. Besides, I was totally off men for the
foreseeable future. Especially the ones of the hottie-roommate
variety that were suckers for a woman who needed to be saved.
After all, I hadn’t gone through a whole slew of shitty boyfriends
just to settle. When I finally found The One, it would be a man who
loved me for exactly how I was.
Almost perfect and all.
I WOKE WITH a start to the sound of pounding against the wall right
above my head.
“Son of a bitch.” I grinded my teeth as I turned my head to look
at the time on the alarm clock on my bedside table. Five-fifteen. I
didn’t have to be up for at least another hour. But thanks to those
inconsiderate assholes next door, I was awake.
“Richard. Oh, Richard!”
The headboard from my cousin’s bedroom in the apartment next
to mine banged against the paper-thin wall we shared. Waking up to
sex noises when you haven’t been laid in months was bad enough,
but waking up to your cousin’s sex noises, as he gave it to his
girlfriend before the sun had even risen, took disturbing to a whole
new level.
Unable to take another second of it, I threw the covers back and
stood from the bed, padding on bare feet out of my room and
through the still-dark apartment. I made sure to keep quiet as I
pushed Devon’s bedroom door open and tiptoed to the edge of her
bed, conscious to not wake her as I pulled her girly comforter back
and slid in between her sheets.
“Collin? What time is it?” Her voice was low and raspy from sleep
as she turned her head to look over her shoulder.
“A little after five,” I whispered, curling the pillow up beneath my
head for optimal neck support. “Go back to sleep.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, still only half awake. “They’re at it again?”
she asked, knowing exactly what had brought me to her bed at such
an earlier hour. This wasn’t our first rodeo. In the three months we’d
been roommates, I’d probably snuck into her bed for a peaceful
night’s sleep at least a dozen times. Which reminded me, I really
needed to talk to the goddamned landlord about the issues with the
thin walls.
Her tiny frame wiggled close as she lifted her feet and tucked
them beneath my legs for warmth. I’d grown used to her shoving
perpetually frozen toes beneath me, whether it’s on the couch, or on
the random occasion I had to crash in her bed to escape Richard
and Delilah’s sexcapades. It didn’t matter what the temperature was,
her damn feet were always ice blocks. “Swear to God, I’m going to
break that damn headboard one of these days,” I grumbled as I
wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her back against my
chest. Having her warm, soft body flush against mine helped to relax
me enough for sleep to begin tugging at my consciousness once
more.
Her body shook with laughter as she snuggled down further
under the blankets. “I bet they break that thing themselves before
you ever get the chance. Those two are like freaking rabbits. I kind
of hate them.”
I chuckled against her hair, the faint scent of lavender wafting up
around me. “Feeling’s mutual babe. Now go back to sleep. We’ll
work on payback once the sun’s up.”
“Deal,” she murmured. Seconds later, she was out like a light.
I wasn’t too far behind. The whole cuddling in bed thing with
Devon was a nice bonus that came with being roommates. She was
on some weird self-imposed fast when it came to dating, and I was
still stinging from my own personal breakup. Neither of us were in a
place where long-term relationships were at the forefront of our
minds, and knowing that, we could give each other the basic human
comforts that most people craved, like a warm body to sleep next to
without the concern that things could get weird.
Before Devon, I’d honestly though it was impossible for men and
women to be strictly friends. I’d seen it all through high school and
college, girls getting their hearts broken because they were unable
to maintain a platonic relationship with someone of the opposite sex.
It was something I’d always been glad to avoid since I’d been with
Brianna, my ex, for as long as I could remember.
But Devon was something altogether different. She wasn’t overly
emotional like most women. There didn’t appear to be a fragile bone
in her body, and the last thing she appeared to need, or even want,
was a man taking care of her. She was definitely nothing like any
other woman I’d ever known. It was a breath of fresh air. And as I
slipped out of consciousness I thought to myself that more women
should strive to be like Devon.

I WAS IN a seriously shitty mood. And it was all my best friend and
boss’s fault.
Did they not understand the torture of waking up with another
man’s morning wood poking into your butt when you’re on a Man
Strike? I mean, I’m only so strong. I hadn’t had sex in nearly four
months, and there were no prospective suitors anywhere on the
horizon for me.
To say I was horny and irritable was putting it mildly.
After my last boyfriend Matt dumped me because I couldn’t be
the soft spoken, delicate woman he wanted, I’d all but given up on
men. So waking up this morning with a six-foot-three, two-hundred-
and-some-odd-pound wall of chiseled muscle intimately pressed
against me was so not ideal.
“I hate you,” I informed Delilah when she came sauntering up to
my desk at work, dressed in an adorable red halter dress with big
white polka dots that made her look like a fifties pin-up. She looked
far too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but I guess early morning sex
nearly seven freaking days a week would do that to a woman. “Like
really, really hate you.”
“Aw, poor baby,” she cooed sarcastically, but smiled as she sat a
venti white mocha from Starbucks on my desk — her form of an
apology that I was more than willing to quickly accept. Snatching the
coffee up, I put the cup to my lips and drank, letting out a sigh of
pleasure once the caffeine hit my system.
“Okay, you’re somewhat forgiven. But for the love of God, at least
pad the damn headboard!”
“Wait…” Delilah’s head tilted to the side as she surveyed me. “I
know for a fact you can’t even hear us from your bedroom, so
what’s got your granny panties in a twist?”
I scowled up at her, narrowing my eyes so tightly they were
almost closed. “First of all, stop stealing my sayings. You’re too cute
and innocent looking, they don’t work for you.”
She nodded sagely. “Noted.”
“Secondly,” I lifted my middle finger in the air, “it’s not me who’s
being subjected to your and Richard’s kink fest. It’s Collin. Which
means the poor guy’s only choice is to either puncture his own ear
drums or climb into my bed in the middle of the night. Which option
do you think he chooses?”
“He gets in bed with you?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
 She tried to blank her face, but failed miserably. “I’m not looking
at you like anything,” she lied, pushing her cute black glasses up her
nose.
“Yes you are. You’ve got creepy hopeful eyes. Stop it. It’s not like
that with me and Collin. We’re just friends who occasionally sleep in
the same bed because our neighbors are inconsiderate assholes.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Whatever. I just think it would be
cute if the two of you got together. I mean, think about it, my best
friend dating my boyfriend’s cousin?” I could see her trying her best
to hold in the excited squeal that wanted to work its way up her
throat.
I clapped my hands and sarcastically replied, “Maybe we could
have a double wedding and honeymoon. It would be totes
amazeballs!” Delilah’s smile quickly died and she scowled at me like
I’d just dashed all her dreams.
“You know, you’ve been an even bigger pain in my ass since you
started this stupid strike of yours.”
“It’s not stupid,” I argued, even though, after this morning’s
erection incident, I wasn’t quite sure I believed that myself. “I’m
tired of settling. Guys either want me to be something I’m not or
they’re too intimidated by an independent woman. So sue me for
taking a break.”
She propped her polka-dotted butt on the edge of my desk and
crossed her ankles to keep from flashing the whole office. “All I’m
saying is I think you and Collin could be really cute together. You
guys get along great, and you’ve already established a solid
friendship.”
It was the same thing I’d been hearing since practically the time
he’d moved in with me. I loved Delilah’s huge heart, but her trying
to play matchmaker was likely going to drive me to alcoholism, and
since I’d been all but living off of Ben and Jerry’s since I split with
Matt, the last thing I needed was another vice. Especially one that
contained so many calories. B&J was already doing enough damage
to my thighs and ass as it was.
Shit, I really need to start running.
 Just the thought made me shudder. Because… running. Who in
their right mind did that by choice? Maybe if I pretended I was being
chased by a bunch of zombie clowns I’d be able to struggle through
it.
As if she wasn’t already pushing hard enough, what she said next
just crossed a line. “You’re never going to meet a man if all do you is
pig out on ice cream and binge watch Outlander every weekend.”
I gasped in outrage. “You leave my Jamie Fraser out of this! You
don’t understand what we have. It’s special.”
She snorted and laughed at my dramatics. “Know who’s just as
cute as Sam Heughan? Collin Locklaine. And I think I remember
Richard telling me their family was originally from Ireland centuries
ago… but I might have just dreamt that part.”
“Okay, first,” I held up one finger, “the Highlanders are Scottish,
not Irish. Learn your geography. And second, Collin Locklaine is not
as hot as Sam Heughan…” I actually had to think on that when
Delilah gave me a look that said ‘and clearly you’ve been sniffing
glue’.
“Okay, well, he is, but that doesn’t mean anything, because even
if I wanted to make a move on the guy he’s still totally hung up on
Brianna,” I said her name with a sneer. Since getting to know Collin
really well, and being pulled into the crazy circle of friends that
encompassed all the Locklaine boys, that was the only way any of us
women referred to his stupid bitch of an ex-fiancée. “You just don’t
make a move on a guy who’s twisted up because of some other
woman. I might as well just stamp ‘Heartbreak Welcome’ on my
forehead.”
Delilah’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought he was over
Brianna. Richard said he’s been dating.”
I scoffed and took another sip of my coffee. “He’s been on two
dates. Two. And he came home before 9:00, complaining, after both
of them. He says he’s putting himself out there, but trust me, he’s
really not. He’s just going through the motions to get his family off
his back.”
“That’s just sad,” she said quietly. “Why do guys do that? Why do
they mourn after women who aren’t good enough?”
 I lifted my shoulder in a tiny shrug. It was a question I’d been
asking myself for months… ever since Collin moved in, actually.
Because there was no way that woman deserved a man like him.
“Beats the hell out of me. All I know for certain is that he’s nowhere
near close to being over her.”
“Such a shame,” Delilah said under her breath as she stood from
my desk and started toward Richard’s office.
I nodded my head even though she could see because I agreed
wholeheartedly. It was a shame.
“Oh!” I called out just before she managed to shut the office door.
“And no sex in the workplace! It’s in the employee handbook!” I
shouted loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear, knowing it
would mortify Delilah and it would be at least two weeks before she
got the nerve up to visit him at work again.
“Goddamn it, Devon!” Richard shouted back just as the door
slammed closed.
I turned back to my desk and laughed to myself. I knew my
bestie, and there was no way he was getting office nookie now.
Payback.
AS JAMIE LOVINGLY called Claire (a totally undeserving woman, in my
opinion) his Sassenach, I dug my spoon deeper into the pint of
Chunky Monkey I was holding in my lap and shoved the massive bite
in my mouth as I sniffled against the threatening tears.
“Stupid Outlander,” I muttered to myself as I continued to watch
the love scene play out on the TV in front of me, wondering why real
life couldn’t be like it was in TV shows. Well, not all TV shows. As
much as I love Jon Snow, there was no way in hell I wanted my life
to be anything remotely like Game of Thrones. Too gory.
But Claire was one tough chick. She was strong willed and
constantly getting herself into situations that Jamie would have to
save her from. Yet, the damn man cherished the ground she walked
on.
Why? Why were there no real life guys as good as Jamie Fraser?
Oh great, and they’re having sex again, I thought pathetically as I
cuddled deeper into the couch and continued to subject myself to
the torture. The sad thing was, my day had started out pretty damn
good. I didn’t get hit by a cab, there wasn’t a line at Starbucks, and
I only had to yell at Richard to get me his expenses twice. All things
that led to a great morning.
But then it had all gone to Hell with one little text message from
my ex-boyfriend Matt and a stupid thing called hope.

“WILL YOU STOP yelling at me?” Richard whined from his side of the
desk, crossing his arms over his chest like a big baby. “I’ll get you
my receipts by lunch. I promise.” I gave him a cheerful smile and
turned on my heels to leave, happy with the verbal smack down I’d
just laid down.
Once I got back to my desk, I pulled my cellphone out to text
Delilah, only to find a message already waiting for me. I let out a
shaky, unsettled breath at the sight of Matt’s name on the screen.
Swiping my finger across, I opened the text message and my
stomach flipped at the same time something fluttered in my chest
behind my ribs.

Matt: Hey beautiful. Hope you’re doing well. I know

it’s been a while since we talked, but I was really
hoping you’d have time to meet for lunch today?

I hadn’t heard from him since the night he broke up with me. It
wasn’t the first time a guy had ended the relationship we’d been in,
but I’d really thought that Matt had staying power. So when he
informed me that he felt like I was holding back from him, that he
just couldn’t see staying with a woman who wouldn’t let him take
care of her, it had hurt more than the guys before.
I really liked him. And I thought he’d liked me just the way I was.
Being proven wrong was never a good feeling. After than night,
there’d been no communication whatsoever. Why was he texting
now? So many questions were running through my head.
Does he regret dumping me?
Does he want me back?
 Does he miss me?
My hands shook just a bit as I typed back a response.

Me: Sure. Where were you thinking?

It only took a second for him to reply back.

Matt: Coffee shop near your work?

Back when we were dating, we used to meet for quick lunches at

that coffee shop. The relationship was still in that somewhat childish,
feel-good phase where you hate being away from the person you’re
seeing for more than a few hours, so we’d hit up that shop at least
three times a week for a fast meal simply so we could see each
other.
Just the mention of it was enough to send a wave of nostalgia
crashing over me. That was our place. There was no way Matt would
have suggested we meet there if he wasn’t planning on telling me
he wanted me back… or at the very least, asking for forgiveness.
When lunchtime finally rolled around, I hurried to the bathroom
to do a quick makeup check and give my hair a little fluff before
bolting from the building. I practically ran the whole way to the
coffee shop, only slowing my steps when the building came into
view so I didn’t look as anxious as I felt. Matt was standing just
outside the door when I walked up and the smile that spread across
his face when he finally caught sight of me sent a riot of butterflies
flitting around in my belly.
It was in that moment I knew I’d give him another chance if he
asked for it. I was so full of hope when he reached out and wrapped
me in a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you, Devon.” He pulled
back and gave me a once over. “You look great, as always.”
My cheeks heated at the compliment, and I reached up to tuck a
wayward strand of my dark brown hair behind me ear. “Thanks. You
look really good too.” And God, did he ever. I guess I’d kind of
forgotten just how handsome Matt was in the months we’d been
apart, but standing in front of him just then, I was hit with the full
force of his good looks. Man, I really wanted him to kiss me.
“So,” I started nervously. “Should we go in?”
“Oh,” he said, taking two giant steps back. “No, that’s okay. This
won’t take long and I really don’t want to steal your whole lunch
break.”
I tipped my head to the side, somewhat confused by his
statement. If he was planning on asking me to get back together,
wouldn’t he want to have lunch with me?
Then he bent down and picked up a box from the sidewalk that I
hadn’t noticed. And the next words out of his mouth were an
agonizing jolt to my system. “You left some stuff at my place after
we… well, you know.” He passed the box to me and ran a hand
through his hair uncomfortably. “Anyway, I just thought you might
want it back. And besides, I kind of needed to get it out of my
apartment, so I figured now was as good a time as any, right?” He
laughed awkwardly, his earlier demeanor having shifted, making me
feel like he’d rather have been anywhere else than standing in the
middle of a crowded sidewalk, talking to me.
“Oh…” I frowned down at the box in my hands, full of junk I
hadn’t even thought about since the breakup. “I—well… thanks?”
“Sure,” Matt smiled, “no problem.”
I wasn’t going to cry. I was not going to cry. Not in front of half of
Manhattan, and most certainly not in front of Matt the Epic
Douchebag. “Uh… just out of curiosity, why exactly did you need to
get this stuff out of your place?”
I really shouldn’t have asked. I knew it as soon as the words had
fallen from my lips, but it was already too late to take them back.
“Well… you see, I’m kind of…” he trailed off for several painful
seconds, “seeing someone.” Like a knife right to the gut. “And I’m
going to ask her to move in with me.” That he just twisted for the
hell of it. “I figured it wouldn’t be right to move her in when I still
have some of my ex’s stuff laying around, right?”
“Yeah.” I swallowed over and over, trying to dislodge the lump
that had just formed in my throat. “Right.”
 “Well, it was good to see you,” Matt said with false cheer as he
started backing away from me. “Hope life’s treating you good,
Devon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I whispered to myself because he’d already turned and
disappeared into the crowd of people walking past me. And just
when I thought I couldn’t have felt any worse than I had after our
breakup, that son of a bitch had to go and kick me while I was
down.

“SHE’S NOT GOOD enough for you, Jamie!” I shouted at the TV screen
through a mouthful of ice cream. “Don’t you see that? She doesn’t
deserve you!”
The front door swung open just then, and Collin came to a
screeching halt at the sight of my pathetic, bedraggled self, sprawled
out on the couch wearing a faded Boston University sweatshirt,
stained with chocolate since I’d been using it as a napkin. My hair
was in ratty bun, I had fuzzy toe socks on my chilly feet, and I was
almost certain the yoga pants I was wearing had a hole in the
crotch. All of that, coupled with the red-rimmed eyes, stuffy nose,
splotchy face, and the two empty ice cream containers on the coffee
table just screamed disaster.
“Uh oh,” he muttered, dropping his briefcase on the ground by
the door before pulling his glasses off.
Oh yeah, had I not mentioned Collin sometimes wore glasses?
Well he does, and the first time I saw him in them, I’m pretty sure
my ovaries dropped about thirty eggs… it was that good.
“What happened?” he asked, coming over and taking the remote
from my hand in order to pause the lovefest happening between my
future baby daddy and that ungrateful bitch. Wonderful, I’m losing
touch with reality now. Just what I need.
“Nothing,” I grumbled, spooning in for more Chunky Monkey.
“What makes you think something happened?”
 “Oh, I don’t know,” he answered, taking a seat on the cushion
right next to me and pulling my feet into his lap. “Maybe because
you’re sitting here, looking like a slightly neurotic homeless person?
Please tell me that’s chocolate on my sweatshirt that you stole, and
not something else.”
I knew it was chocolate, but just to screw with him, I lifted the
shirt up, sniffed and then licked, pretending to be unsure.
“Gross, Devon!”
I giggled and leaned back to rest my head on the arm of the
couch as he massaged me feet. “I’m kidding. It’s chocolate, relax.”
His chest rumbled with a deep chuckle and he sunk down into the
cushions, momentarily lifting one hand from my foot to loosen the
tie around his neck. “So, you going to tell me what has you sitting
here, binge eating all the ice cream this side of the Hudson, while
screaming at the television?”
I let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling, letting his strong
fingers work out what felt like an entire week’s worth of tension.
Collin Locklaine really was the absolute best. Most definitely the
exception to my whole All Men Are Evil and Should Be Stoned
philosophy.
“I saw Matt today,” I finally answered.
“Wait…” he paused in his foot rubbing. “Matt, as in your douche
of an ex, Matt?”
“The one and only,” I answered dryly. “He texted today and asked
me to meet him during lunch.”
“And you said yes?” he snapped incredulously. “Why the fuck
would you do that?”
Pulling my feet off his lap, I sat up straight and shot him a
murderous look. “Oh, I don’t know,” I smarted, “maybe for the same
reason you still text your ex-fiancée when you don’t think anyone
notices!”
His eyes got wide. “What are you… how did…”
I snorted and stood from the couch, picking up the trash from my
binge and carried it all to the kitchen. “Please, Collin. You’re not
nearly as clever as you think. You leave your phone lying around all
over the place, and you’re probably the only person I know who
doesn’t password protect his phone.” I felt him join me at the
counter and gave him side-eyes. “You should really consider doing
that. Your cousins are snoopy bastards.”
At that, he chuckled and leaned against the counter, running a
hand through his unruly, yet stylish hair. Only a man could get away
with looking all disheveled and still have women wanting to climb
him like a tree. God, men sucked so bad!
“We’re one seriously fucked up pair, aren’t we?”
I shrugged, turning to face him. “Eh, where not so bad. Just
typical human beings who make stupid-ass choices sometimes.”
Reaching out, Collin pulled me into a hug — a move I had come
to realize was his way of apologizing for snapping at me earlier. It
was something I’d grown used to since we’d become friends and
roommates. He wasn’t a typical guy in that sense, really. He was
more demonstrative than vocal about things, especially when he was
wrong about something. I returned the embrace and nuzzled my
face into his dress shirt, breathing in his spicy, musky cologne. “So
tell me what happened,” he prompted after several seconds.
I exhaled heavy and leaned even further into him. “I was an
idiot,” I admitted. “I thought he was going to ask me to get back
together, but when I got to the coffee shop, he just shoved a box of
my things into my hands and told me he had to get it out before he
moved his new girlfriend in.” I knew I sounded bitter, because I was.
I was very bitter.
Collin’s arms squeezed, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the
crown of my head. God, the man gave good cuddle. I could only
hope that one day I’d meet a guy who wanted to hold and touch me
as much as Collin did. It was nice feeling all safe and secure,
wrapped in someone so much bigger than you. I sighed and
thought, for the millionth time, how much of a shame it was that he
was still so hung up on someone else.
“He’s a bastard,” he murmured against my hair.
“I know,” I whispered as I clenched my eyes closed, trying to hold
back a fresh wave of tears. “But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt
any less.”
“I know, sweetheart. But he never deserved you.”
 Damn it. I was going to start crying again if this conversation
didn’t end soon. Pulling out of Collin’s hold, I stepped back and
wiped at my eyes with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. It really was a
comfy sweatshirt. It was old and threadbare, making it absolutely
perfect. I swam in it, but that, coupled with the lingering smell of
Collin’s cologne just made me feel like I was permanently wrapped in
a big bear hug.
“I’m keeping this,” I informed him, pulling the sleeves over my
fingers and curling my fists. “It’s mine now. Hope it didn’t hold any
sentimental value for you, because you’re never, ever getting it
back.”
He smiled as he moved to the cabinet, pulling out a wine glass
and filling it with the open bottle of red wine we had sitting on the
counter. He passed the glass to me before taking my hand and
pulling me back into the living room. “Whatever you need, honey.”
He sat on the couch and pulled me down right next to him, throwing
an arm over my shoulders so I could rest my head on his muscular
chest. Two seconds later he grabbed the remote and restarted the
show, snuggling me against him. We sat like that for the next two
hours, watching one episode of Outlander after another.
Why? Why couldn’t I find a man just like Collin who wanted to be
with me?
God, some days my life really sucked.
“MMM.”
The sound of a feminine moan pulled me from my sleep. I took a
few seconds to clear my groggy mind and realize that I’d fallen
asleep on the couch with Devon. Devon who was currently grinding
her lush ass into my cock, making me hard enough to pound nails.
I groaned in agony and threw my head back as I reached down
and grabbed her hips to stop her circling. My voice was rough and
gravelly as I warned, “Baby, stop.”
“Wha—?” At her sleep raspy voice, I looked down to find her
looking over her shoulder in confusion. “Collin?”
Something about the way she stared up at me just then, the
vulnerable look in those tired blue eyes made it impossible to move
away from her. As if my hands had a mind of their own, I pulled her
hips back further into me and thrust my aching cock against the
swell of her ass. The gasp she let out was almost my undoing.
Christ, I wanted her like I couldn’t remember wanting another
woman in a very, very long time. How the hell had I never seen just
how amazingly beautiful this woman was until just now?
 One of her arms snaked back and she ran her fingers through my
hair, tilting her face so our lips were just a breath apart. “Mmm,
Collin,” she moaned again.
“We should probably stop,” I panted as I contradicted myself and
continued to dry hump her like I was a fucking teenager.
“We probably should,” she agreed, her mouth still against mine.
“But I don’t want to. I want to feel you inside me.”
That was all I needed to hear. “Thank fuck.”
Quick as lightning, I had her on her back. I took just a few
seconds to rid her of those God-awful sweatpants and panties. Our
mouths crashed together as I laid down on top of her, her legs
spreading to accommodate my hips. Christ, she felt like a dream,
even through the remaining layers of clothes. As our tongues
wrapped around each other’s, as we nipped and bit, her delicate
hand snuck between us to the fly of the slacks I’d fallen asleep in.
“Need you,” she breathed, tugging at my belt.
Feeling the exact same desperation as her, I sat back on my
haunches just long enough to rid myself of my belt and undo my
pants and free my straining dick. At the sight of it her eyes widened,
the black of her pupils enveloping the light blue as lust took over.
“Now,” she practically growled, reaching for my cock with one
hand as her other tangled in my hair and pulled me down against
her.
I didn’t think. I couldn’t fucking think about a single thing other
than feeling her from the inside. Needing that more than my next
breath, I plunged into her in one brutal thrust, bottoming out and
causing us both to cry out in ecstasy.
“Fuck!” I barked as she whimpered my name.
“Hard and fast, Collin. Fuck me like you mean it.”
The last thing I thought before I began pounding into her
relentlessly was: Fucking gladly.

I shot awake, sucking in a choked breath as the light from the TV

bounced around the living room, illuminating the space and painting
shadows across Devon’s peaceful, sleeping features.
Fucking Christ, it was just a dream.
 A dream I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be shaking for a long
goddamned time.

I COULDN’T FOCUSon a damn thing.

Taking my glasses off and throwing them to the side, I rubbed at
my tired eyes. The blueprints in front of me might as well have been
a five-year-old’s Crayola drawing for as much attention as I was
paying to them.
And it was all Devon’s fault.
I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me last night, but when she
admitted to meeting up with her fuck-head ex-boyfriend, I’d gotten
so pissed I saw red, quickly followed by a knot of guilt in my gut
when she admitted to knowing I still occasionally texted with
Brianna every now and again. It wasn’t as if I’d done anything
wrong, keeping in limited contact, but something about Devon
knowing and calling me on it made it feel like I’d wronged her
somehow.
It was ridiculous, really. We were just friends… roommates, but I
didn’t like that she knew that. And I liked her talking to — and
subsequently being hurt again by — that asshole, Matt even less.
Then, to make matters worse, I woke on the couch this morning
with Devon lying on top of me, my arms secure around her, holding
her in place against my erection. It wasn’t the first time I’d woken
up next to her with morning wood, but this was different. I wasn’t
sure what brought it on, but the explicit dream I’d been having,
where I had Devon writhing beneath me while I fucked her with
everything I had, almost sent me over the edge. Whenever she
squirmed against me, or let out one of those sleepy little moans, my
dick would twitch, getting even harder, until I feared I’d come in my
pants.
Now that had never happened with Devon before. Yes, we’d
cuddled, sometimes we slept in the same bed — and admittedly, this
behavior was uncharacteristic for me. I’d never been a very touchy-
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sandi
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Sandi
Kertomuksia Joelta

Author: Edgar Wallace

Translator: Erkki Valkeala

Release date: December 11, 2023 [eBook #72377]

Language: Finnish

Original publication: Jyväskylä: K. J. Gummerus Oy, 1923

Credits: Sirkku-Liisa Häyhä-Karmakainen and Tapio Riikonen

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDI ***

SANDI

Kertomuksia Joelta

Kirj.

EDGAR WALLACE

Suomentanut (»Sanders of the River»)

Erkki Valkeala

Jyväskylässä, K. J. Gummerus Osakeyhtiö, 1923.

SISÄLLYS:

Kuninkaan kasvatus
Kivenpitäjät
Monrovian Bosambo
Unelias mies
Erityiskirjeenvaihtaja
Tanssikivet
Kauniiden unien metsä
Akasavalaiset
Paholaismetsä
Mlinon rakkaus
Poppamies
Yksinäinen
Näkijä
Sodan koirat
KUNINKAAN KASVATUS

Komissaari Sanders oli niin huokeasti siirtynyt läntiseen Keski-

Afrikkaan, ettei hän oikein osannut sanoa, milloin hän oli tullut
takamaihin. Jo paljon ennen kuin Britannian hallitus oli määrännyt
hänet pitämään isällistä huolta noin neljännesmiljoonasta
ihmissyöjästä, jotka kymmenen vuotta aikaisemmin olivat
suhtautuneet valkoisiin miehiin niinkuin me suhtaudumme
sarvikuonoon, hän oli tavannut basutot, tsulut, ringot, pondot,
matabele-, masona-, barotse- ja betsuana-kansat ynnä hottentotit.
Sitten uteliaisuus ja viehätys veti häntä pohjoiseen ja länteen päin, ja
hän tapasi angolakansan, vielä pohjoisempana Kongon väen,
lännessä masai-kansan ja saapui lopuksi kääpiöheimojen kautta
alueelleen.

Kaikkien näiden heimojen eroavuudet ovat vain Sandersin

kaltaisten miesten tiedossa.

Väri ei merkitse paljoakaan, vaikkakin toiset ovat ruskeita ja toiset

keltaisia ja muutamat — vaikka harvat — sysimustia. Eroavuus on
luonteessa. Tsulut olivat miehiä ja basutot olivat miehiä, vaikka
heidän vakava luottamuksensa oli lapsellista. Fetsiä päässään
pitävät mustat miehet olivat ovelia, mutta luotettavia, kun taas
Kultarannikon ruskeahkot miehet, jotka puhuivat englantia ja
sanoivat toisiaan »herroiksi», olivat Sandersin kauhistus.

Elettyään niin kauan suurten lapsien keskuudessa hän oli tietenkin

tullut jonkin verran samanlaiseksi kuin he, lapselliseksi. Kerran
Lontoossa hänelle tehtiin kepponen, ja vain hänen luontainen
suorasukaisuutensa pelasti hänet naurettavasta pälkähästä. Kun
näet kultaaja näytti hänelle raskasta metalliharkkoa, hän vei tämän
suoraa päätä poliisiasemalle ja syytti miestä luvattomasta
kultakaupasta. Sanders tiesi, että harkko oli kultaa, mutta hän ei ollut
varma, oliko se saatu rehellisin keinoin. Hänen hämmästyksensä,
kun hän huomasi »kullan» olevan lehtikultaa, oli liikuttava.

Sandersista voidaan sanoa, että hän oli valtiomies, mikä merkitsee

sitä, että hänen mielessään ei ihmishengellä ollut vakiintunutta
arvoa. Kun hän näki sivistyksen puussa kuihtuneen lehvän tai näki
ohdakkeen kasvavan »kukkiensa» joukossa, hän poimi sen pois
pysähtymättä ajattelemaan, oliko sillä ehkä oikeus elää. Kun mies,
olipa hän päällikkö tai orja, oli esimerkillään saattanut maan rauhan
vaaraan, kävi Sanders käsiksi häneen. Vielä elävän sukupolven
aikana isisiläiset sanoivat häntä Ogani Isisiksi, joka merkitsee
»pientä teurastuslintua», ja totta puhuen Sanders olikin siihen aikaan
nopea hirttämään. Hän hallitsi kolmensadan mailin päässä
sivistyksen liepeiltä eläviä ihmisiä. Toiminnan arkuutta tai
rangaistuksen toimeenpanon lykkäämistä, jompaakumpaa näistä
kahdesta olisivat nuo ihmiset, joilla ei ollut voimaa tehdä
johtopäätöksiä, ei halua pyytää anteeksi eikä taipumusta erityiseen
armeliaisuuteen, luulleet heikkoudeksi.

Maassa, joka sijaitsee Togo-maan rajoilla, ymmärretään

rangaistuksella kipua tai kuolemaa, ei muuta.
 Kerran muuan hupsu komissaari nousi vastavirtaa Akasavaan —
joka on maan nimi — ja kokeili siveellisellä rangaistuksella.

Oli syntynyt kiihkeä jupakka. Muutamat Akasavan miehet olivat

käyneet joen yli Ochorin puolella varastamassa naisia ja vuohia, ja
luullakseni oli kaksi miestä tapettu, mutta se on toinen asia. Vuohet
ja naiset elivät ja huusivat äänekkäästi kostoa. He huusivat niin
kovaa, että se kuului päämajaan asti, ja komissaari Niceman — se ei
ollut hänen nimensä, mutta se kelpaa tähän — meni katsomaan,
mistä ääni aiheutui. Hän tapasi Ochorin kansan suuttuneena, mutta
vielä enemmän peloissaan.

— Jos, sanoi heidän puhujansa, — he haluavat palauttaa

vuohemme, niin pitäkööt naiset, sillä vuohet ovat arvokkaita.

Komissaari Nicemanilla oli sitten pitkä, pitkä palaver, neuvottelu,

joka kesti päivän toisensa jälkeen, Akasavan miesten ja heidän
päällikkönsä kanssa, ja lopuksi siveellinen saarna vaikutti: miehet
lupasivat tiettynä päivänä ja tietyllä tunnilla, kun kuu oli
neljänneksessä ja vuorovesi tarpeeksi korkealla, palauttaa naiset ja
myös vuohet.

Niin herra Niceman palasi päämajaan ihaillen itseään rajattomasti

ja kirjoittaen kyvyistään ja hallitustaidostaan sekä alkuasukkaiden
tuntemuksestaan pitkän raportin, joka on myöhemmin julkaistu
Sinisessä Kirjassa 7943-96 (Africa).

Tapahtui, että herra Niceman heti sen jälkeen meni kotiin

Englantiin, ja niinpä hän ei kuullut Ochorin väen vihaa ja kiukkua,
kun nämä eivät saaneet naisiaan eivätkä vuohiaan. Sanders, joka
kymmenellä hausasotilaalla ja malarianpuuskalla varustettuna
työskenteli Isisi-joen tienoilla, sai heliosanoman:
 »Menkää Akasavaan ja lopettakaa se kirottu naisjupakka. —
Hallitus.»

Sanders kokosi sälynsä, nautti 25 grainia kiniiniä ja jättäen kesken

hyvän työnsä — hän haeskeli Mbeliä, poppamiestä, joka oli
myrkyttänyt erään ystävän — meni maan poikki Akasavaan.

Aikanaan hän tuli kylään ja kohtasi päällikön.

— Miten on naisten laita? hän kysyi.

— Keskustelemme siitä, sanoi päällikkö. — Kutsun päämiehet ja

neuvonantajat.

— Älä kutsu ketään, sanoi Sanders lyhyesti. — Lähetä

varastamasi naiset ja vuohet takaisin Ochoriin.

— Herra, sanoi päällikkö, — täyden kuun aikana, tapamme

mukaan, kun vuorovesi on tarpeeksi korkealla ja kaikki merkit ja
paholaiset ovat suotuisia, täytän käskysi.

— Päällikkö, sanoi Sanders naputtaen toisen mustapuuarkkua

kävelykepillään, — kuu ja joki, paholaiset tai jumalat, nuo naiset ja
vuohet menevät takaisin Ochorin kansalle auringon laskiessa, tai
minä sidon sinut puuhun ja pieksän sinut verille.

— Herra, sanoi päällikkö, — naiset palautetaan.

— Ja vuohet, sanoi Sanders.

— Vuohet, sanoi päällikkö, — ovat kuolleet, tapettu pitoihin.

— Sinä herätät ne henkiin, sanoi Sanders.

 — Herra, luuletko minua taikuriksi? kysyi Akasavan päällikkö.

— Luulen sinua valehtelijaksi, sanoi Sanders puolueettomasti, ja

palaver oli päättynyt.

Samana yönä naiset ja vuohet palasivat Ochoriin, ja Sanders

valmistautui lähtöön.

Hän kutsui päällikön erilleen, koska ei tahtonut häväistä häntä ja

vähentää hänen valtaansa kansan keskuudessa.

— Päällikkö, sanoi hän, — matka Akasavaan on pitkä, ja minulla

on paljon työtä. Toivon, ettet sinä pakota minua enää saapumaan
tänne.

— Herra, sanoi päällikkö tosissaan, — en toivo enää näkeväni

sinua.

Sanders hymyili salaa, kokosi kymmenen hausaansa ja meni

takaisin
Isisi-joelle jatkamaan Mbelin etsimistä.

Monestakaan syystä se ei ollut hauskaa etsintää, ja oli myös syitä

luulla Isisin kuninkaan itsensä suojelevan murhaajaa. Tälle tiedolle
saapui vahvistus eräänä aamuna, kun Sanders Suurelle joelle
leiriytyneenä oli aamiaisella nauttien säilykemaitoa ja paahdettua
leipää. Saapui kiireesti Sato-Koto, kuninkaan veli, hyvin
järkyttyneenä, sillä hän oli paossa kuninkaan vihaa. Hän lateli julki
kaikki uutiset, jotka eivät liikuttaneet Sandersia vähääkään. Mutta se,
mitä hän kertoi kuninkaan luona oleskelevasta poppamiehestä, oli
todella mielenkiintoista, ja Sanders lähetti päämajaan viestin, ja kun
se oli sinne saapunut, päämajasta lähetettiin hra Niceman — joka oli
aikanaan palannut Lontoosta — moraalisella saarnalla taivuttamaan
Isisin kuningasta.

Kokoamistamme todisteista käy ilmi, että kuningas ei ollut

hellämielinen. On epäämätön totuus, että Nicemanin pää, pistettynä
seipääseen kuninkaan majan eteen, todisti kuninkaan ylevää
luonnetta.

Neljä sotalaivaa purjehti Simonstownista ja yksi Sierra Leonesta,

ja vajaassa kuukaudessa kuningas, joka oli tappanut vieraansa,
toivoi, ettei olisi sitä tehnyt.

Päämaja lähetti Sandersin selvittämään sotkun poliittista puolta.

Eräs meriupseeri näytti hänelle, mitä oli jäljellä kuninkaan kylästä.

— Luulen, sanoi tämä mies, — että teidän on kaivettava jostakin

uusi kuningas, olemme melkein tappaneet edellisen.

Sanders nyökkäsi.

— En aio pukeutua surupukuun, hän sanoi.

Ei ollut vaikeata löytää tarjokkaita avoimeen virkaan. Sato-Koto,

kuolleen kuninkaan veli, ilmoitti olevansa halukas ottamaan vastaan
viran melko nopeasti.

— Mitä te sanotte, kysyi laivastoa johtava amiraali.

— Sanon ei, vastasi Sanders arvelematta. — Kuninkaalla on

poika, yhdeksänvuotias, kuninkuus on hänen. Sato-Koto saa
toistaiseksi olla sijaishallitsija.
 Ja niin se asia oli järjestetty Sato-Koton nyreästi suostuessa. Uusi
kuningas löytyi metsästä naisten joukosta, ja hän yritti vastustella,
mutta Sanders talutti hänet korvasta kylään.

— Poikani, sanoi hän ystävällisesti, — miksi ihmiset sanovat

sinua?

— Peteriksi, herra, vikisi potkiva poika, — valkoisten miesten

tapaan.

— Hyvä, sanoi Sanders, — sinä olet nyt kuningas Peter. Hallitse

tätä maata viisaasti ja tarkoin tapojen ja lakien mukaan. Sinä et saa
tehdä pahaa kenellekään, et häväistä ketään, et saa tappaa, et
käydä sotaa etkä vahingoittaa mitään, joka tekee elämän elämisen
arvoiseksi, ja jos sinä rikot tätä vastaan, Herra sinua varjelkoon!

Siten tehtiin kuningas Peter itsevaltiaaksi Isisissä, ja Sanders meni

takaisin päämajaan pienen merisotilas- ja hausa-armeijansa kanssa,
sillä Mbeli, poppamies, oli tapettu kylää valloitettaessa, ja Sandersin
työ oli loppunut.

Isisin kylän valloittaminen ja nuoren kuninkaan kruunaaminen

kerrottiin Lontoon lehdissä, eikä siinä ollut mitään unohdettu.
Mukanaolleet erityiskirjeenvaihtajat olivat kuvanneet sen niin, että
monet iäkkäät naiset itkivät ja moni nuori nainen sanoi: »Kuinka
kaunista!» ja kuvausten synnyttämät moninaiset tunteet johtivat
siihen, että nti Clinton Calbraith, joka oli maisteri ja hyvin kaunis,
lähetettiin paikalle. Hän tuli orvon kuninkaan »äidiksi», holhoojaksi ja
ystäväksi. Hän maksoi itse matkansa, mutta kirjat ja koulutarvikkeet,
jotka täyttivät kaksi laatikkoa, oli ostettu erään lastenlehden
kustannuksella. Sanders tapasi hänet maihinnousupaikalla uteliaana
näkemään, miltä valkea nainen näyttää.
 Sanders antoi hänen käytettäväkseen majan ja lähetti erään
rannikkolaiskirjurin vaimon häntä kaitsemaan.

— Niin, nti Calbraith, sanoi Sanders sinä iltana ruokapöydässä, —

mitä te haluatte tehdä Peterille?

Neiti silitti kaunista poskeaan miettiväisesti.

— Alamme aivan yksinkertaisilla asioilla — oikealla lastentarhalla,

ja hiljalleen siitä ylöspäin. Opetan hänelle aakkosia, hieman
kasvioppia — hra Sanders, te nauratte.

— En, en nauranut, kiirehti Sanders rauhoittamaan häntä. —

Minun kasvoni aina näyttävät siltä — hm… illalla. Mutta sanokaa,
osaatteko te kieltä, suahelia, bomongoa, ringiä?

— Se käy vaikeaksi, sanoi neiti miettiväisesti.

— Saanko antaa neuvon? kysyi Sanders.

— Miksei.

— Niin, opetelkaa kieli. — Neiti Calbraith nyökkäsi. Menkää kotiin

ja opetelkaa sitä. — Neiti rypisti kulmiaan. — Se vie tieltä
suunnilleen kaksikymmentäviisi vuotta.

— Herra Sanders, sanoi hän ylhäisesti, — laskette leikkiä — teette

pilaa minusta.

— Taivas varjelkoon! sanoi Sanders tyynesti, — olisinko minä

todella niin sukkela.

Kertomuksen loppu, mikäli se koskee nti Clinton Calbraithia, oli se,

että hän meni Isisiin, oli siellä kolme päivää ja tuli takaisin
kauhuissaan.

— Hän ei ole lapsi, sanoi hän kauhistuneena, — hän on pieni…

pieni paholainen.

— Sitä minäkin, sanoi Sanders syvällisesti.

— Kuningas? Se on kamalaa! Hän asuu multamajassa ja kulkee

alastomana.
Jos olisin sen tiennyt!

— Luonnon lapsi, sanoi Sanders. — Ette luullut näkevänne

sellaista?

— En tiedä, mitä luulin, mutta en voinut olla kauempaa, se oli

mahdotonta.

— Siltä näyttää, sanoi Sanders itsekseen.

— Tietysti tiesin, että hän oli musta, jatkoi neiti, ja minä tiesin
sen… se oli aivan kauheaa.

— Tosi on, rakas neiti, sanoi Sanders, — että Peter ei ollut niin
ihana kuin te kuvittelitte, hän ei ollut jalo, kirkassilmäinen lapsi, hän
elää likaisesti — eikö niin?

Tämä ei ollut ainoa yritys kasvattaa Peteriä. Kuukausia

jälkeenpäin, kun neiti Calbraith oli mennyt kotiin ja oli toimeliaasti
kirjoittamassa kuuluisaa kirjaansa »Yksin Afrikassa, kirj.
Englantilaisnainen», Sanders kuuli toisesta kasvatusotteesta. Kaksi
etiopialaista lähetyssaarnaajaa oli tullut Isisiin takateitä. Etiopialaisen
lähetysseuran muodostavat kristityt mustat miehet, jotka
yksinkertaisesti perustaen uskontunnustuksensa Pyhään Sanaan
saarnaavat tasa-arvoisuuden evankeliumia. Musta mies on
arkipäivinä yhtä hyvä kuin valkoinenkin, mutta sunnuntaisin jopa
parempikin, jos hän kuuluu Reformeerattuun etiopialaiseen kirkkoon.

He tulivat Isisiin ja pääsivät heti kansan suosioon, sillä heidän

puheensa miellytti sangen suuresti Sato-Kotoa ja kuninkaan
neuvonantajia.

Sanders lähetti hakemaan lähetyssaarnaajia. Ensi kerralla he

kieltäytyivät tulemasta, mutta toisella kerralla he tulivat, sillä
Sandersin lähettämä sanoma oli lyhyt ja jyrkkä.

— Emme ymmärrä teidän menettelynne luonnetta, sanoi toinen.

— Se tuntuu olevan ristiriidassa toimittamamme asian vapauden
kanssa.

— Ymmärrätte minua paremmin, sanoi Sanders, joka tunsi

miehensä, — kun sanon teille, että en salli teidän saarnaavan
harhaoppeja kansani keskuudessa.

— Harhaoppeja, hra Sanders! sanoivat neekerit värisevin äänin.

— Se on vakava syytös.

Sanders otti paperin pöytänsä laatikosta; keskustelu tapahtui

hänen työhuoneessaan.

— Sinä ja sinä päivänä, hän sanoi, — te puhuitte tätä, tätä ja tätä.

Toisin sanoen hän syytti heitä tasa-arvoisuuden rajan ylittämisestä

ja siirtymisestä poliittisen kiihotuksen alueelle.

— Valheita, sanoi vanhempi kahdesta empimättä.

 — Totta tai valhetta, sanoi Sanders, — te ette enää mene Isisin
alueelle.

— Tahdotteko jättää pakanat pimeyteen? kysyi lähetyssaarnaaja.

— Onko kantamamme kynttilä liian valoisa?

— Ei, sanoi Sanders, — mutta hiukan liian kuuma.

Siten hän toimeenpani etiopialaisten siirron heidän tärkeimmän

työnsä näyttämöltä, mistä sitten tehtiin välikysymys Englannin
parlamentissa.

Sitten saapui Akasavan päällikkö — vanha ystävä kasvattamaan

kuningas Peteriä. Akasava rajoittuu tämän kuninkaan alueisiin, ja
päällikkö tuli antamaan hänelle opastusta sotilaallisissa asioissa.

Hän tuli rumpujen soidessa ja toi lahjoina banaaneja ja suolaa.

— Olet suuri kuningas! sanoi hän unisilmäiselle pojalle, joka istui

valtaistuimella katsellen häntä suu ihmetyksestä ammollaan.

— Kun sinä käyt, maa vapisee sinun jalkojesi alla, mahtava joki,
joka vyöryy alas suureen veteen, jakautuu sinun käskystäsi, metsän
puut vapisevat ja pedot hiipivät piiloon, kun sinun voimasi lähtee
rajojen ulkopuolelle.

— O, ko, ko! sanoi mairiteltu kuningas.

— Valkoiset miehet pelkäävät sinua, jatkoi Akasavan päällikkö. —

He värisevät ja kätkeytyvät sinun äänesi kuullessaan.

Sato-Koto, joka seisoi kuninkaan vieressä, oli käytännön mies.

— Mitä tahdot, päällikkö? kysyi hän keskeyttäen kohteliaisuudet.

 Silloin päällikkö kertoi hänelle pelkurien maasta, jossa oli maan
aarteita, vuohia ja naisia, paljon.

— Miksi et ota niitä itse? huomautti sijaishallitsija.

— Koska minä olen orja, sanoi päällikkö, — Sandin orja, ja hän

löisi minua. Mutta sinua, herra, joka olet suuri, kuninkaitten päämies,
Sandi ei voi lyödä sinun suuruutesi tähden.

Seurasi neuvottelu, joka kesti kaksi päivää.

— Minun on tehtävä jotakin Peterille, kirjoitti Sanders lähiaikoina

hallitukselle. — Se pikku pentele on lähtenyt sotapoluille onnetonta
Oclioria vastaan. Olisin hyvilläni, jos lähettäisitte minulle sata miestä,
konekiväärin ja kimpun rottinkia; luulen, että minun täytyy ruveta
kasvattamaan Peteriä itse.

*****

— Herra, enkö puhunut totta? sanoi Akasavan päällikkö

voitonriemuisesti. — Sandi ei ole tehnyt mitään. Me olemme
hävittäneet Ochorin kylän, ottaneet heidän kalleutensa, ja valkea
mies on mykkä sinun suuruutesi edessä! Odotetaan täysikuuta, ja
minä näytän sinulle toisen kylän.

— Olet suuri mies, sanoi kuningas, — ja jonakin päivänä rakennan

sinulle majan palatsini varjoon.

— Sinä päivänä, sanoi päällikkö ylevästi, — minä kuolen ilosta.

Kun kuu oli kutistunut ja kadonnut ja tullut takaisin hopealla

siveltynä möhkäleenä itäiselle taivaalle, kokoontuivat Isisin sotilaat
varustettuina keihäin ja leveäteräisin miekoin, ingola yllään ja multaa
hiuksissaan.

He tanssivat suuren tanssin valtavan tulen loimossa, ja kaikki

naiset seisoivat ympärillä taputtaen käsiään tahdissa.

Kesken tämän saapui sanantuoja kanootilla, tuli kuninkaan luo ja

sanoi:

— Herra, päivän matkan päässä täältä on Sandi; hänellä on

mukanaan sata sotilasta ja messinkitykki, joka sanoo:'Ha-ha-ha-ha!'

Hiljaisuus vallitsi joukossa, kunnes sen keskeytti Akasavan

päällikön ääni.

— Luulen, että minun on mentävä kotiin, sanoi hän. — Tuntuu

kuin olisin sairas, ja nyt on myös se aika vuodesta, jolloin minun
vuoheni saavat vohlia.

— Älä pelkää, sanoi Sato-Koto julmasti. — Kuninkaan varjo kätkee

sinut, ja hän on niin voimakas, että maa vapisee hänen jalkainsa
alla, mahtavat vedet jakautuvat hänen astuakseen, ja vieläpä valkeat
miehetkin pelkäävät häntä.

— Vaikkakin, epäsi päällikkö, — mutta minun täytyy mennä, sillä

minun nuorin poikani on sairastumaisillaan kuumeeseen, ja hän
kaipaa minua koko ajan.

— Jää, sanoi sijaishallitsija, eikä hänen äänestään voinut erehtyä.

Sanders ei tullut seuraavana päivänä, eikä vielä seuraavanakaan.

Hän liikkui vitkaan, kulkien maita myöten, joissa monet
väärinkäsitykset odottivat selvitystään. Kun hän saapui lähetettyään
sanantuojan edeltä käsin tulostaan ilmoittamaan, oli kylä rauhan
toimissa.

Naiset hienonsivat viljaa, miehet tupakoivat, pikkulapset leikkivät

ja pitivät ääntä kaduilla.

Hän pysähtyi kylän laitaan pääkatua hallitsevalle kukkulalle ja

lähetti hakemaan sijaishallitsijaa.

— Miksi minun täytyy haettaa sinut? hän kysyi. Miksi kuningas

pysyy kylässä, kun minä saavun? Tämä on häpeä.

— Herra, sanoi Sato-Koto, — eihän ole soveliasta, että suuri

kuningas alentuisi niin paljon.

Sanders ei ollut huvittunut eikä vihainen. Hän oli tekemisissä

kapinaa hautovien ihmisten kanssa, eivätkä hänen omat tunteensa
merkinneet mitään maan rauhan rinnalla.

— Näyttää siltä, kuin kuninkaalla olisi ollut huonoja neuvonantajia,

hän sanoi, ja Sato-Koto kumarsi vaivalloisesti.

— Mene ja käske kuningas tulemaan — sillä minä olen hänen

ystävänsä.

Sijaishallitsija meni, mutta palasi vähän ajan päästä yksin.

— Herra, hän ei tahdo tulla, sanoi hän härkäpäisesti.

— Sitten minä menen hänen luokseen.

Majansa edessä istuva kuningas Peter tervehti herra komissaaria

alasluoduin katsein.