By Neil Primus
RITA was the ‘beauty and star’ of the small community of Corn Acre. Even though it was a rural and somewhat backward village, Rita refused to let this define her. She always dressed to kill. Glamorous and beautiful, she forced every man to take another look at her as she glided by. Some could not stop staring. This did not bother her in the least. In fact, she enjoyed it immensely. Then she got married.
With typical flair, she hooked a rich middle- aged man who had been married twice before. Both wives had died, and he was the prize of the village because he had lots of money.

BRIEF BUT PUBLIC
The courtship was brief but public. The wedding followed. It was a grand expensive event with one person starring: Rita.
But after the wedding, things changed. Instead of wearing costume jewellery, she wore real jewellery. Instead of second-hand clothes from family in the city, she wore the latest fashion. She was even more visible now than before. But Mr. Lucas did not care. He showered her with all sorts of expensive gifts. Rita was living a dream. Then she died suddenly.
THROWN INTO MOURNING
The small community was thrown into mourning, especially the men. At the wake, all the men of the village attended, speaking in hushed respect of the woman so many of them admired and secretly lusted after. Lucas was inconsolable; his love had been snatched from him again. Their marriage had lasted a mere 18 months He resorted to drinking. Every night at the wake, he ensured there were lots to eat and drink. Funeral arrangements were made, and family members were contacted.
The day of the funeral was even more spectacular than the wedding. A fleet of shiny cars were hired. The hearse was new, modern and grand. The casket was the best that money could buy. And Rita, as usual, stole the show. She was dressed in an elegant white dress, and adorned with the finest jewellery.
It was quite an occasion for the small quiet community. Car after car crawled through the narrow dirt road leading to and from the church, then to the cemetery.
All those not attending lined the street; not out of respect, but out of curiosity. This small village had never witnessed anything on this scale; except Rita’s wedding, of course.
AFTER THE FUNERAL
The night after the funeral, Mr. Lucas invited the villagers to his home for a final celebration of his wife’s life. He had all sorts of dishes and alcohol available.
The villagers accepted the invite with zest. They were all there. Food and drinks were in abundance.
Before an hour had gone by, Mr. Lucas was so drunk that he could not remember which day of the week it was. No one minded. They had seen him like this ever since his third wife had succumbed. They just kept on enjoying themselves. They knew that this might be the last time they would get so much free booze and food.
Pretty soon, a number of the men found that Lucas’ liquor was too tempting to refuse, so, one by one, they got drunker and drunker.
The women, on the other hand, were a little more reserved. They ensured that everyone had enough to eat and drink, then they helped themselves, with quite a few of them packing a bag to take away.
‘LOOK RITA!’
In the middle of all this, a crisis arose.
One of the highly intoxicated men pointed to an unsteady figure at the door and shouted, “Look! It’s Rita coming.”
Everyone froze. Basil, the shouter, fell over and passed out on the floor. Everyone burst out laughing at his silly antics. Then Rita stepped through the open doorway and into the house. Time stood still. Then, pandemonium broke out! With screams of terror, and hysteria written all over their faces, the people of Corn Acre made valiant bids to escape. Windows and doors were crammed with a mass of frightened, pushing, screaming humans.
Miraculously, they all made it out of there without too many serious injuries. People were seen fleeing the scene. Some were limping, hopping and sprinting, minus a few of their belongings like jerseys, cell-phones, slippers and dentures.
Back at the house, Basil began to revive. He shook his head, which only made things worse. When the room stopped moving, he looked around him in surprise. Everyone was gone. Except one woman in white.
Wait a minute! Oh No! Even in his drunken state, he recognised the woman standing in the doorway.
PURE TERROR
With a bellow of pure terror, he plunged through an already shattered window and exited the premises in an ungainly, zig-zag fashion.
Mr. Lucas, meanwhile, sat holding his drink. His fuzzy brain was sending him late signals. Something unusual was taking place; people had rapidly departed. Plenty of screams had pierced his foggy mind. Then a sound like a werewolf shattered his eardrums, and someone plunged through a window.
That was when he saw the woman in white!
“Rita baby, is dat you?”
“Yes, boy.”
“Wha happen to you, girl?”
“Boy, I can’t remember everything. All I know is I feel someone biting meh fingers, and I bawl out, ‘Oh God!’ And dem run away, screaming. So I come home.”
Then Lucas’ brain sent him that late signal. He passed out on the floor, leaving a very puzzled Rita.