Waves Aligning

by Adaora O

  4

  The doorbell chimed as Chinny left for the bank to make some deposits. She bade her father goodbye as she ushered her Uncle Kika in. Nobody heard Ama leave for her much-publicised beads and wrappers sale early in the morning and Dubem had gone back to school.

  So, as soon as Dede made certain Chinny was gone, he blurted, “I cannot keep this in any longer. My family, my world is falling apart!”

  “Dede, pull yourself together and tell me what the problem is. Where are Ama and Dubem?” Kika looked alarmed. Dede confessed his guilt to his brother. “The child whose future I vowed to protect graciously shook off the disappointment of having a father who cannot give her the one legitimate thing she craves.”

  Kika heaved with relief. “Oh! It is about Chinny. Dede, I have told you to stop bothering your good head. You have done the best you can. Do you want to kill yourself? You made the right choice so please concentrate on your son and you will be happy you did. Let her do something to help the family for now. You can marry her off you know.”

  Anguish tore through Dede’s eyes. “So Kika, what you are saying is that despite Chinny being not only bright but resilient, I should leave her to drown in the misfortune which being a girl has thrown at her. What makes you different from the maggot called Mr Peters who would give me a loan of 5,000,000 Naira only if I let him marry my male-hatching daughter? Eh Kika? Are you any different?” Kika’s tongue stayed glued to the roof of his mouth as Dede told him that he liquidated all his assets, his Beetle included and paid the insignificant sum of 850,000 Naira to Southern Rail. This would give him until next year, by which time the company threatened to sell off the house to recoup their funds.

  Chinny forgot the spare house keys she always carried around just in case she came home before anyone else, which happened often. She came back to the house and nearly called out to her father to let her in but froze. Her heart picked up tempo in tune with the cultural dance troop, practicing a few blocks away as her uncle’s words reverberated in her head. “It is a very hard pill to swallow especially considering the age of the man in question. That said, Chinny is a girl and will get married someday. Since this holds a promise of good returns for you, I suggest you take this chance my brother. Do you know what you stand to gain? The benefit of having this Mr Peters as a father-in-law will give your life the lift you have always wanted. The girl will grow to enjoy her new husband and if she does not like it, the old man would die soon anyway and set her free to marry any other man of her choice. Do not overthink it. I think it is a beautiful gift wrapped in rags. I wish an opportunity like this would come to me. Those who have buttocks do not know how to sit!” Kika finished with rue. The realisation that nobody outside his immediate nuclear unit really and selflessly had his interest at heart hit Dede and in that instant, the enormity of his error in confiding in his brother jeered at him.

  After what appeared like decades, Dede broke his silence. “Thank you Kika. You are correct. I knew talking to you would bring my much-needed solution. As soon as we fix the dates for Chinny’s marriage, I will let you know.” Chinny missed the sarcasm in her father’s voice as her legs, which now felt like the noodles she ate for lunch, moved as fast as they could to nowhere. She did not wait to hear the unprintable description of Kika as conceptualised and relayed by her father. Dede slammed the door behind his brother, shaking from the venom just spewed from his mouth. He regretted not confiding in his wife. He had lied so much to her both by omission and commission. Ama still believed that his Beetle, which now belonged to someone else, lay faulty at the mechanic’s workshop and that their television, video cassette player and stereo set which Dede used as collateral for a loan from a mortgage bank would soon grace their sitting room once again. He did not tell her how close they were to being homeless. He regretted not telling her that his friend Oliseh has been the one paying the fees for Dubem’s schooling. He regretted the different shades of lies he told Ama.

  The chiffon blouse Chinny wore clung to her back, a testament of her over twenty-minute sprint. Exhausted and sticky, she boarded a tricycle and did not get down until the final stop. She continued walking for almost three hours before she realised she would faint from hunger and fatigue if she did not stop. She spotted a mini supermarket a few feet away and bought a bottle of soda and some crunchy pastry known as chin-chin. Nothing beats the satisfaction of delicious coolness travelling down a parched throat after a long walk, she thought, sitting on the shop’s single step while giving her empty stomach its belated attention.

  *

  By seven o’clock in the evening, Ama was done with her sales and humming a happy tune, she walked through the door. With eyes as bright as the sun after the morning rains, she told Dede about the two wealthy strangers who bought her mother’s coral beads at outrageous sums. “I think we have a headstart. Tomorrow, Chinny will take this money to the bank for me.” Ama wanted to know if he was expecting any other person when she noticed Dede did not shut the door after her but kept peering into the night.

  “Is Chinny not coming in yet?” he asked. Ama became alarmed as she had not seen Chinny the whole day but tried to speak with a calm tone.

  “Maybe the Clarkes are around,” she reasoned and went into her room to tuck her proceeds away in her wardrobe before rushing off to the Clarkes. She met a padlocked gate. Ama’s breath could almost be heard a mile away. Her underarms clammed with sweat as she began to walk back home but met Dede outside.

  “She may be with Adaiba,” he said and suggested they go to Kika’s house. The distance between their house and Kika’s appeared to have halved by the time they arrived. Fear dripped through Dede’s pores when his brother announced that Chinny had not come anywhere near their home the entire day. Hopeful she would have returned, Dede and Ama left for home.

  An infinite number of thoughts sped through their minds as Dede and Ama gaped at their open door. Running into the house, the hair on the back of Dede’s neck and arms spiked as he looked around for Chinny or intruders. Ama dashed straight to her bedroom and let out a shrill cry. One look at his wife’s ashen face, holding the open door of their wardrobe and Dede did not need words to confirm his worst fears. Her proceeds were gone! Somewhere between going to Kika’s house and back, the ignoble guests of the night came visiting. Ama sat down on the floor sobbing and Dede stared on, the words to comfort his wife eluding him. The effort Ama invested in making the sales a reality could not be measured. Those coral and pearl beads she inherited from her late mother cost a fortune and he feared to ask her just how much she lost. The funds would have gone a long way in alleviating some of their present constraints. Somebody knocked and with a fast-beating heart, Dede went to see who it was but found a little boy not older than nine years.

  “Good evening Sir. Chinny said I should give you this,” he muttered, handing Dede a folded piece of paper and turned to leave. Dede held softly onto his shoulders.

  “Wait. Where is… did you see her? When did she give you this? Where is she?” The boy said she came to their house sometime in the afternoon, asked for a paper and pen and scribbled a letter, which she asked him not to open but to give to her parents at 8:00 pm. The boy trotted off and with shaky hands and deafening heartbeats, Dede opened the letter and read:

  I thought I could not have wished for a better home, but life and time have taught me differently. I put up a brave fight against all that fate threw in my path. I carried you along. Not once did I put the blame on you, accepting that life reflected whatever one purposed to make of it for oneself and not what it presented. In pain, my head bows and my bowels cringe to know that a pawn on the chess board of your life is a representation of all Chinetalum Ona is to you. I was only born to fulfil your selfish ends. My heart breaks into little fragments as I say this but dear Mother, go on and have a child for Mr Peters. That way, all your problems can come to an end. Take care of one another. God will take care of me.

  Ama snatched
the piece of paper from her husband’s unsteady hands. She wanted to know what distressed him so much. The evening breeze shuffled the almond leaves that littered the grounds of the Onas’ residence but the large beads of sweat rolling down Ama’s forehead did not relent. She was broken and confused with no inkling of where her daughter fled to or why she had come to such harsh conclusions. Ama untied and retied her wrapper, peering into the darkness and willing Chinny out of hiding. She began to walk into the night but changed her mind and returned to sit on the front porch. Shoving away all thoughts of why Chinny may have left home, Ama tried to guess where her daughter could be, her stolen fortune forgotten.

  Chinny woke up scared and unable to tell why the cold bit so hard. The insects fluttering around the light bulb in front of the shop chose to sing a symphony. Chinny reached for her phone only to find it had run out of battery power. When? She could not tell. The hour and minute arms on her wristwatch pointed to nine. Suddenly, the bulb went out and pitch darkness took over. Only then did Chinny assess her situation. Dread filled her, and in her panic, she began to walk. A flicker of light ahead infused her with the courage to keep walking and not give in to the alluring idea to stand still, hoping to melt into the night.

  The light disappeared before she got to it. The roasted corn seller had just closed shop and busied herself with gathering her two little girls and what remained of her goods when Chinny approached her. Although sceptical at first, the middle-aged woman softened her stance once Chinny explained her plight and begged to be pointed in the direction of the closest lodging. But the woman, offering to lodge her in her home if she did not mind, told Chinny that the closest lodging was about twenty-five minutes away by foot and advised her against staying there, since the ladies of the night found it a comfortable environment for their nefarious activities. Chinny thought it through and took the woman’s offer, hoping she had not made a decision she would soon regret.

  Meanwhile, Ama and Dede suffered a dearth of tears and ideas. Ama asked her husband in a voice a little louder than a whisper, “What did she mean by telling me to have a child for Mr Peters?” Wide eyes stared at drooping eyes as Dede narrated his encounter with Mr Peters. He had not thought she deserved the agony that telling her about it would provoke.

  Ama sighed, “I see! I thought she found out about Iyke’s proposal.” Iyke, Ejiofor’s uncle wanted Chinny’s hand in marriage, so he asked her father with an expensive bottle of champagne and a cheque of 600,000 Naira. The only snag rested in Chinny’s ignorance of his proposal.

  “So, who told her about the crazy old fool?” Ama’s confusion mounted.

  Dede narrated his meeting with his brother earlier in the day. “She must have stayed back to eavesdrop on your conversation. I told you to be careful with the things you tell your brother. He is not a bad person, but he just does not possess the ability to think through certain situations!” Ama’s voice was the sound of broken chords. “But Dede, you should have told me about this. You should have told me. I am your wife. Here I was thinking that Iyke’s suggestion was absurd. I did not know you had more to deal with. Chinny must have misunderstood your position on the matter. Oh God!!! My poor child, where are you? But why would she think I have a part to play in this awful plan?” Ama and Dede were confused, afraid and sad all at the same time.

  *

  Sparsely furnished but neat, the corn seller’s house embraced Chinny as soon as she walked in. The woman greeted her husband and they both went out of the room to discuss the situation. Chinny noted the renewed kindness in the eyes of the man when they came back to the sitting room. After Chinny managed a few spoons of rice, she settled on the lone couch in the sitting room to sleep. Jolted out of the bliss that sleep promised, Chinny opened her eyes to see two other pairs staring at her. The corn seller and her husband grabbed two stools, sat in front of her and began hours of persuasion and reasoning. The odds, they told her, did not lean in favour of a homeless and defenceless young lady. Nothing could change her mind. She would never return to her family.

  “They are a brood of vipers I had the misfortune of having as family. I’d rather live on the streets than live with them,” she wailed. Husband and wife smiled, nodding in understanding. They let her cry for as long as she wanted. When they knew she was done crying, they spoke. Before now, Chinny only associated eloquence and depth with the rich and learned. But as the corn seller spoke to her, she realised that the concept of wisdom had no boundaries.

  “Child, words are not always what they seem. Go back home and take as much time as you need to evaluate your options.”

  Cricket calls, bird chirps and sounds of shuffling leaves typical of the night went still as the corn seller’s husband spoke.

  “Mankind’s life journey is pre-determined by the script writer who plots only happy endings. The only requirement is for mankind to prove they deserve to play out their script and it would all fall in place.” Jolted into reality by the words of her hosts and certain her parents must be sick with worry, Chinny made up her mind to go back home. Nobody could force her into what she did not want.

  “Tomorrow, at first light, I will return home,” she promised, grateful for their uncommon kindness. As she went back to sleep, she thought there was something unusual about this couple. They were strangers to her, yet looked vaguely familiar.

  In the morning, Chinny woke up to a note from her hosts to close the door on her way out as they were out for the day. “Remember, prove you deserve your script,” the note ended. Disappointed at herself for being such a heavy sleeper, Chinny began her walk down the little path that led to a dirt road. For some reason, she could not recall how they got to the house the night before. The isolation of the house and the glances thrown her way by the passers-by who scurried off in what seemed like puzzlement or fear also did not go unnoticed.

  *

  Crestfallen and home-bound after the police inspector informed them with a serious face that Chinny would not be considered missing until after seventy-two hours, they met Kika and his wife at the front porch of their home. For over forty minutes, they all sat listless on the Onas’ verandah, each sailing away in their own thoughts when a motorbike rode into the compound. Chinny paid the bike man his fare and turned to see four pairs of eyes dissecting her head into nano bits. With glazed eyes and pursed lips, she floated to the door, looking everywhere but at anyone as she waited for her bewildered mother to open the door. Dede followed his wife and child in short steps as Kika, in an embarrassed voice, called out to the retreating figure of his brother, “Err… thank God, she is safe and sound.” The sound of the door as it closed in their faces told Kika and Violet that their own home beckoned.

  *

  Neither Dubem’s return for the end of term holiday nor his parents' dry jokes eased the tense air in the house and nobody gave Dubem any details about his sister’s odd disappearance and re-appearance. Gone was the flighty, boisterous and optimistic person he grew up with. In her place remained a dreadfully withdrawn being who believed that everyone she trusted had turned around and brutally stabbed her in the back. So Dubem, like his parents, perfected the art of walking on eggshells around her. Adaiba was away in Enugu through it all. It did not help either that Ejiofor did not make it home for Christmas. Chinny decided to leave him to his new life of higher learning. We were never on the same playing field anyway, she thought.

  Weeks after her disappearance, the doorbell chimed and Chinny opened the door to find Ejiofor. On the night of her flight, her parents had called the Clarkes to find out if they knew anything. Although concerned, Ejiofor’s parents could not be of much help. And though he learnt of the whole incident only after the fact, Ejiofor boarded the night bus back to Nigeria as soon as he could. School workload could wait. He needed to know in person what went wrong with his friend.

  Ejiofor listened, spellbound at the surreal account Chinny gave him. “Do you know that till this moment, nobody has a
sked me anything about where I was or what happened to me the entire time I disappeared? These people care only about themselves. It is almost as though it is my responsibility to get them out of whatever it is they think they are in. Or… Eji, do you think I am being self-centred? Should I just go ahead with this plan? Sometimes, I think I may be thinking too highly of myself. I mean… many girls are doing it these days. Oh, I don’t know. Oh God I am so confused,” she cried in exasperation.

  Cool as frozen waters, Ejiofor, regarding his weeping friend said, “When you are quite done crying, I would like to be informed, so we can both think about our next line of action.” Chinny blinked back her freshly forming tears. What happened to her all-supportive and compassionate friend?

  “I do not know, Ejiofor. I am so overwhelmed with pain, disappointment and hate and these emotions are alien to me. Sometimes, I feel like running endlessly. Other times, what I really want to do is knock some sense into everyone’s thick skull.”

  Ejiofor let out a chuckle. “It is comforting to know that these are the only things you feel like doing. Believe me, there are more atrocious options, but we will not go that route. For starters, you must talk it through with your parents. They are probably terrified about bringing up any discussion with you for fear of scaring you into flight again. Secondly, Chinny, those people who took you in for that one night spoke the truth. Sometimes, life hands out sour pills, but I believe it is all in the grand plan to mould us into characters that can withstand the immense success intended for us. Now, if we cave under the mould, we do not get to that immense success but if we stand tall and weather the tide, then maybe we will prove that we truly deserve the success. Do not buckle. Give life your best shot. Nobody can force you into anything. Not in this era.” Ejiofor advised Chinny to tell her folks – in clear words – exactly what she thought of their obscene plan and go ahead with her intention to study. “I am rock-stoic behind you,” he finished.