by Adaora O
The handsome doctor seemed pleased with his patient’s progress. He smiled at the pairs of anxious eyes boring into him and said, “He is responding remarkably well. The cut will heal in no time. Unfortunately, his white blood cell count was over the roof. He was probably battling a prior infection. We would watch out for temperature spikes through the night and complete the full course of the antibiotics he has been started on.” There was dramatic relief in the room at the doctor’s words.
Chinny put the handsome doctor’s smile down to professionalism because she caught a stern countenance replace the smiling face as he stepped out of the room. Ama asked her husband if he could manage some pottage and was happy to dish some up when he nodded. Chinny sat on the hospital bed, right beside her father, to eat her late lunch after she turned on the twenty-one-inch television sitting on the mini refrigerator, while her mother sat on the lone chair to have her meal. Dede ate every morsel on his plate while he listened enthralled as Chinny narrated the events leading to his admission. She reasoned that there would not be any need to move Dede to a cheaper bed since the doctor implied that he may be discharged the next day. They laughed at the tricks that life loved to play on mankind – fancy being saved by the son of the one man they wished lived on the dark side of the moon. Dede nodded off while they still chatted but this time as a result of exhaustion. Ama asked Chinny to return home while she stayed back at the hospital, but the young lady was having none of that. So, they both passed the night in the reception area, intermittently checking on Dede.
The next morning, the handsome doctor came to the room during his morning rounds. He did not seem as cheerful as he did yesterday. Groggy-eyed, he seemed in a hurry to go home. All the test results came back favourable. He flipped through reports, made notes, examined Dede’s eyes and pronounced him fit to go home once the billing department gave the word. The doctor went on to reel out some dos and don’ts. “Stay off milk, nuts, tea, coffee, almonds and the like for at least a week. Eat more legumes, dark green vegetables and meat. Eat oranges every day right after taking your tablets.” Dede, Ama and Chinny hung unto every word the doctor spoke. After the doctor left, Chinny said she was going to meet with the billing-desk staff but did not make it far out the door as she rammed head-long into Kenneth.
“Good morning,” he laughed.
“Good morning,” Chinny responded, out of breath. “My father has been discharged,” she volunteered as she stepped back in and aside to let him into the room. Ama and Dede were relieved to see that he came alone. They began to offer their gratitude, but Kenneth brushed it off with a wave of his hand. When the pleasantries were over, Kenneth reiterated his decision to handle the bill. He said it was the least he could do for almost killing their daughter. He followed Chinny to the accounts department to make the payment and took them home afterwards.
7
The drive home stretched for eons. Someone of obvious influence and affluence was being buried and the ceremony spilled into the major road, causing a complete traffic gridlock. So, thanks to the sad loss of a human being, turned into a show of who is who, a trip that would ordinarily take less than fourteen minutes extended agonisingly into forty-eight minutes. The only occupant who appeared bothered by the delay was Kenneth, as Dede fed his eyes on the gaily dressed ‘mourners’, their beautiful cars and the condolence gifts they appeared happy to display to both interested and not in the least concerned audience. Ama and Chinny on the other hand took advantage of the air-conditioned, plush leather-seat-fitted car to make up for the discomfort they experienced overnight on the hard hospital chairs.
Kenneth’s car pulled up outside the Onas’ residence. Dede thought he recognised the man who stood in front of his house, his face to the locked front door. With hands akimbo, he exuded a somewhat confused mien. As the man turned towards the sound of the car, his face became distinct. “Oliseh!” Dede called out in a tired but excited voice. Oliseh’s eyes lit up in surprise when he realised who rode in the lovely car.
“What are you doing here?” Dede beamed. The two men shook hands while Ama and Chinny took the bags into the house.
“Good evening sir,” Chinny greeted the visitor.
“You are welcome,” Ama said to him as she fished for the keys in her handbag. Dede blinked back his surprise when Kenneth bade them goodbye and politely refused Ama’s invitation for a glass of water. Insisting they were exhausted from yesterday’s drama, Kenneth said the Onas needed as much rest as possible.
“Moreover, Uncle here would like to catch up with his friend,” he finished, referring to Dede. When all their persuasion fell on dead soil, they bade him goodbye, thanking him again for all his help. Mr and Mrs Ona ushered their guest into the house.
Chinny walked back to Kenneth. She took in his good-looking bulk, as her eyes swept over his pair of dark blue chinos and crisp, white long-sleeved shirt, turned up at the cuffs. His black authentic leather slippers accentuated his well-shaped feet. Dissociating Kenneth from the filth she had come to know to be his roots proved less gruelling, since the immense help he offered remained adamant in its tug at her reasoning. An overwhelming urge to give him a hug gripped Chinny but common sense got the best of her, so she took both of his hands in hers in a gesture of gratitude and began, “Mr Kenneth…”
“Ken is just fine,” he chipped in, slightly amused by her boldness.
“I do not know how to make you understand what you did for me… I mean us… yesterday. I practically stood by hands-tied while my father slipped away. I could not do anything to save him and would probably have lost him if you had not come along at the time you did. Without an inkling about who I was, you gave your help and funds. Thank you so very much Mr Ken- I mean Ken. Thank you. I pray you find help and support in your time of need.” A shy smile played around the lips of the twenty-six-year-old man as he regarded her.
She cannot be more than fifteen, he thought. “Chinny, I hope I can call you that?” When she nodded, he continued. “I did the least I could. And please, you are getting me embarrassed by your profuse thankfulness. It is what I am trained to do. Take good care of your father. I leave tomorrow for my base and if I am unable to pop by on my way, please wish him a speedy recovery,” he finished, sliding one of his hands out to softly tap one of hers. Smiling, Chinny conceded and bade him goodbye. As Kenneth drove off, he tapped his temple in salute.
Chinny waved and called out, “Thank you again!” Smiling broadly, Kenneth shook his head in exaggerated resignation and waved.
Ama made some tomato sauce for the plain white rice she intended for lunch. No more beef cuts were left after Chinny gave out the rest of the meat to a long-standing customer as compensation for a previous late delivery. So, for the garnish, she settled for some sun-dried fish instead. Straining to make out what the two men chatted about, Ama tasted the sauce for salt while stirring vigorously. “You took a while Chi. Wash the rice for me,” she told Chinny, who had just come in through the kitchen door. The young lady merely smiled and did her mother’s bidding and in no time, Ama invited the men to the dining table.
With lunch over, Ama chatted with Dede and his friend Oliseh. For a while, they talked about Dubem and realised nothing had changed since the last time Dede visited Udu town. Dede found out from ‘reliable sources’ that his son’s pact with hopelessness remained unwavering. His informants told him how Dubem spent the larger part of his time roaming the bushes bordering the school. That notwithstanding, he did not shy away from resuming sending the school fees, which Dubem at some point announced had been reviewed significantly downwards. As Oliseh shifted in his seat, stammering about Dubem’s school work, his attempt at a cover-up for the monumental failure they called their son shone in all its brilliance for Dede and Ama to see. Rather than be relieved at the news of a downward review in school fees, Dede and Ama had shrunk further at their son’s deception. In their opinion, since Dubem had failed out of school and lacked the gall to d
efraud them any longer, he developed a creative way to lighten the weight of his guilt for collecting fees for a school he no longer attended by inventing a slash in fees. But for as long as his son and his long-time friend did not bring the subject up with him, Dede decided to play the ostrich and see just how long it would take Dubem to earn a senior school certificate.
Besides dealing with questions about Dubem, Oliseh was having such a wonderful time with Dede’s family and did not mind staying a while longer, but work commitments called. So, at 5:30 pm, he ruefully announced the end of his visit. Dede walked with his friend to the road to wait for a tricycle and as soon as Oliseh went on his way, he returned home at snail speed. Once indoors, he headed to his bedroom for some rest. Unaware of how precious her husband considered some tranquillity at that moment, Ama floated in, her voice ringing in melody. “Oliseh’s visit seems so timely. It is as though he knew about the accident.”
Dede managed a smile in agreement. “Yes. He said he had been planning on paying us a visit for too long and it was coincidental it happened today.” But while they still basked in the lingering ambience of their friend’s visit, a downcast Oliseh journeyed back to Udu town, uncertain of how Dubem, who placed his faith in the success of this visit, would handle the disappointment. Oliseh concluded that the main purpose of his visit to the Onas had been difficult to achieve, given the circumstances. Remorseful and ashamed to face his family with the truth, Dubem had hoped his benefactor would help clean up the mess he had created.
“Some other time. I will go there and make this right for Dubem. Some other time,” Oliseh decided aloud, swinging from side to side in rhythm with the bus swaying down to Udu town.
Immediately after dinner, Chinny handed her father his medication with a glass of water. A nurtured loathing for tablets, emphasised by Dede’s grimace as he swallowed all six of them and stomped off to his bedroom turned Chinny’s ‘you better take your tablets or else…’ scowl into a chuckle. Dede’s face lit up with glee as Ama joined him, carrying a saucer of oranges. “Remember the doctor says they are good for your anemia.” Two oranges lay sucked dry of all their juice and Dede settled into the bliss of tranquillity. It seemed like forever since he felt this relaxed. Today, a happy Dede lay in bed, and his spirit remained in that lifted state. His sleep-tugged mind’s eye saw a brighter tomorrow in the distance as he floated off to dreamland.
*
Startled by the doorbell’s chime, Chinny darted to answer it to find Kenneth looking every bit as handsome as the last time. But something about him appeared odd today and she could not quite put a finger on it. She let him in and offered him a seat. It finally clicked and referring to his white long robe, before Chinny could stop herself, she blurted, “Why are you dressed like a pastor?” ,
“Oh! It is called a cassock. I am training to be a priest,” Kenneth offered with an ear-to-ear grin. Chinny’s face fell.
“Oh! As in? You mean like… Are you? Wait! You want to be a priest?” Chinny gawked.
Considering the look on Chinny’s face priceless and wishing he could cast her expression in stone, Kenneth’s laughter rattled his torso. But Chinny’s unyielding facial muscles made it clear she did not share in his midday amusement. He could never get over people’s initial reaction when they learnt that besides his medical degree, he also pursued priesthood. Kenneth simply did not fit the mould of an aspiring priest. But Chinny’s current state of shock dimmed in comparison to what she experienced when Kenneth informed her that his chosen priesthood path did not permit him to run his own family. Attempting to soothe her distress, he told her that it did not pose much of a challenge to him since his mother had passed on and there was no love lost between himself and his father. Chinny had a million conflicting emotions running through her mind and worse still, she did not know why. Her father broke up their quiet chatter when he entered the sitting room. Getting to his feet, Kenneth greeted, “Good morning sir.”
“Good morning Kenneth. How are you? It is so nice for you to pay us a visit,” Dede beamed.
“I am doing great sir,” Kenneth replied and mentioned that Dede looked a lot stronger than he did yesterday.
“Thank you again. May God bless you,” Dede said. Smirking at Chinny, Kenneth gave up on any hope of making the Onas stop thanking him.
“Are you a priest?” Dede asked.
“No, but he is training to become one.” The disappointment in Chinny’s voice was unequivocally eloquent.
“Really? The priesthood just gained a precious stone,” Dede said. Walking out and into the early morning sunlight for a stroll, Dede excused himself. “Doctor’s orders!” he called out over his shoulders as he shut the door behind him, wondering at Chinny’s near-surly face and how much his little girl had grown.
Kenneth tried for some easy chatter and reeled in laughter when Chinny told him how she initially planned to pay the debt she assumed she would owe him from the hospital bills. It was her turn to laugh when he told her that an image of himself in handcuffs flashed before him when he thought he had crashed into and killed her. After a few more minutes of chatter, Kenneth decided to be on his way. They exchanged numbers. Chinny looked wide-eyed as Kenneth entered her number on his phone using something like a pen. He pretended not to notice as she stared open-mouthed at his phone and feigned not to understand why she preferred that he dialled her number rather than input it directly into her beat-up unsmart phone.
At the door, Chinny decided to take her head out of the sand and asked, “What did you mean when you said there was no love lost between you and your… err… father?” Kenneth’s strides faltered momentarily, but he walked on to his car without a word. When he turned on the ignition, Chinny concluded he did not want to talk about it. Besides, his stance appeared a touch too coincidental, considering his father’s illicit proposal. But to her delight, her stranger-turned-friend began to talk.
“My mother lost the one she called her heartbeat – my biological dad – shortly after my birth. She got married to Mr Peters – the man everyone knows as my father. The marriage did not last. They called it off after five years and she left with me. We have not had such a warm relationship, but he was the only physical father figure I knew so I kept in touch, mostly via telephone conversations. I only came around two days ago to formally inform him of my ordination which will be held in six weeks’ time. As convenient as the story sounds, it is the truth, which I am not proud of. See you around Chinny.”
Stunned and sorry, Chinny gaped as her new friend sped off. A hollow she could not understand formed somewhere in her stomach. Her initial bright idea of making vegetable-laced beans pottage for lunch suddenly did not seem as bright anymore. She went back into the house and got busy. She had to get to the meat market. Her biggest client would come knocking the day after tomorrow and was never in any mood for delays.
Two days after Dede’s return home, his ‘recuperation’, as the doctor put it at his routine check-up, was commendable. Life slid back to normal and was generally easier since nobody needed to breathe down Dede’s neck, with his medication or ‘the right meals’.
After a breakfast of bread and bean cakes with tea, Chinny was in a hurry to clear the table. Saturdays were almost always very busy for her. In addition to the usual house chores, she had to fry and package her beef bites in readiness for her client who would come calling at noon tomorrow. This was the reason she always appeared to be in a rush to get back home after service on Sundays. Chinny did not like to keep her client waiting. Tray in hand, Chinny began to make her way to the kitchen when the bell chimed. She made to put the tray back down, wondering who could be visiting so early in the morning, but her father asked her to carry on while he got the door. “Ah! Oliseh? What a pleasant surprise!” But Oliseh looked nothing like his boisterous self as he sat in the living room. The two men exchanged some friendly chatter and began talking in hushed tones when without warning, Dede’s voice boomed, st
artling Ama out of the kitchen and into the sitting room.
“What do you mean by you do not know?!!” Chinny stopped at the corridor that opened into the sitting room and peered through the curtain behind the adjoining door. Oliseh sat in a chair beside Dede, his head bowed while holding out a note in his hand.
“I did not meet him at home when I returned home that day. I found this on his bed. Read it please.” He prodded his friend.
“No!!! I will not read anything. What do you mean Oliseh? What are you telling me?” Dede’s voice shook in despair.
Ama looked from Dede to Oliseh in stark confusion. “What happened Dede? Oliseh, what is going on? Who is the note from? How… is Dubem?” Her voice quivered like a leaf in a storm. Chinny remained behind the door, the gentle movement of her chest as she took in mouthfuls of air the only indication she was no sculpture. She watched as all her mother’s questions met with portentous silence. Taking the note from his friend, Dede read.
“I just saw it on his bed when I got home,” Oliseh offered again. Ama moved like a flash.
“Whose bed?” she asked as she snatched the note from her husband. Dede looked up at his wife with pain in his eyes.
“Dubem is missing,” he said in a cracked voice. The note slid from Ama’s hand. Her legs refused to carry her any longer, so she heaved onto the next chair and began sobbing, all the while squeezing her knees.
Emerging from hiding, Chinny walked up to her father and in a voice that mirrored the hush of night asked, “Nna’m, what did you just say?” Looking at his daughter, Dede opened his mouth to respond but no words came forth.
Chinny looked hard at Mr Oliseh and demanded, “Where is my brother? How can you say you do not know where he is? You are the chief security officer of your school so how can you not know where he is?” Chinny was scared, confused and annoyed all at the same time but her tone could not be associated with rudeness, for accompanying those angry words were tears of uncertainty. A perplexed Oliseh blamed only himself. If he had let out all Dubem’s dealings in the open for his family to see, he most likely would have received better guidance from them. And in one moment of revelation, Oliseh realised he had absolutely no knowledge of the revered field of parenthood. Chinny picked up the note and read aloud.