Homecoming of the gods

by Frank Achebe

  Zach knew they did not believe him and so he returned the discussion to normal. ‘What about her?’

  ‘She is their mother.’

  ‘How did she die?’

  ‘She died of after a heart attack….’

  ‘No she did not die after a heart attack.’

  There was a deep and penetrating silence. The man gave Zach a deep and inquisitive look.

  ‘No she didn’t die after a heart attack. Please sir, I know you don’t believe me. But I can see that whoever they are, as you have pointed out, were the ones that took your wife’s life for the same reason they are taking your son’s.’

  The man still held the look on Zach.

  ‘How can I not have thought about this all along? She was very delicate….’ He paused as if searching for his words…. ‘I remember now that you have called it to my attention that when she was their age, she had nightmares and hallucinations. Towards the time of death, she would wake in the thick of the night screaming and kicking…. It’s vague now… She would say that someone was trying to drown her. They had told her that she belonged to the River Nānti. How and what they meant beat her judgement. At some stages in her life, when she fought over her life, she would fall into despair over that. But I am not sure she ever accepted it as her fate.

  ‘But I loved her. All of that did not seem to matter much. I can’t say that I took the talk of that as serious but it was a risk that I took for love sake. I truly loved her. I was hopeful that love would conquer what was her fate. It did conquer her fate for she found courage to live, long enough to have and raise her own children. And then they came after her children, the ones she loved the greatest.’

  The man sat up. ‘How can I not have seen this till now? Do you believe in God, sir?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Let me assure you that I cannot find the courage to question God. Not that I can now that I have an heir. A distant one though. But he is the promise that not all was lost. He has been gracious to me more than I can find the courage to be grateful for. I have made my peace with Him and with the future.’

  He meant Kuniā’s pregnancy. ‘But I’m in despair now at the thought that they may come after her and the child.’

  ‘No sir. Not now that we know better.’

  ‘Can you assure me of that?’

  ‘I risked my life to be here sir, for Silas. And I risked more to be here for you. It will be my pleasure to do more than take him as my own son.’

  ‘Good. You must forgive Kuniā as I have forgiven her. I place she and her child in your hands now, save them if you can. And whatever happens, the boy that is coming, let him know that I saw his day and rejoiced.’

  ‘The boy?’

  ‘Yes, he is going to be a boy. He will be bald when he grows old. He will grow old. Trust me on that.’

  ‘What about the present?’

  ‘I can’t quite tell but I have my own thoughts about it now that it has all become clear. I have lain in this bed thinking about it forever and I’m an old man to know that all of this is a sort of gathering. To them. Whoever they are. The conspiracy is to bring as many people to the town in the time they have. Then whatever will happen will happen. But I doubt it will be anything less than tragic. If you can, you have to get people off this town as quickly as possible. Whatever it is, they cannot stand it when it comes. I have no ideas as to how you will do it but you have to. They need someone to save the day. You have to find a way and be that person for them.

  ‘Oh,’ Zach saw it clearly, courtesy of Hééb’s mother: ‘A flood. The River is going to flood.’

  With that single piece, the puzzle presented itself. Zach caught Nurse B’s eyes in the well-lit room. When he did, she lowered them nervously and guiltily too. Zach could have pumped his fist in the air if he could. He was right after all.

  That encounter brought healing not only to his mind but also to his body. He felt some newness surge through his body.

  ‘What about Hééb? You know he is the architect of it all.’

  ‘Hééb is a fool. He styles himself a shrewd man. But he’s very much a pawn in this game. He has failed to understand that there is nothing in it for him. He would have respected my wishes. I would have buried that boy with my own hands in peace, no matter how long it may have taken. I would have had grief but I too have suffered and I can suffer. I took him as my own son. I had a place for him in my heart. But none of that meant anything to him when it mattered.’

  # # #

  The meeting was wrapped in no time and Zach returned to the wardroom. He could have ran if not for the gown and his weak body. He was very hungry for the night, unlike he had ever been since his sickness. Everything had changed.

  Two questions still remained though: How was he going to get the people off the town? And more importantly, why had that woman visited him in the nightmare?

  He could not find the answer to the first question but he managed to find for the second.

   Chapter Sixteen: A Sunday to Forget

  Something, if not everything, felt odd to Madam Békhtèn. The welcome they had given her left her disconcerted. It could be her silly jealousy speaking and it could be that some chemistry had developed between the two in the time apart. She was too experienced to know that it was the later rather than the former. She noticed that they were no longer nervous in each other’s presence. None of that, which gave her some safety guarantees, was there again.

  As to the news of the admission board, it did not seem a good time, both because of its sensitive nature and the air around them. But she knew that the more she delayed it, the more the girl would conjure it up herself. Good news needed no waiting. But here she was, not saying anything particular about what was the ground for her journey.

  Ūö herself was no longer a kid to know that something was wrong after all. If the news was at all a good one, her mother would have bought bottles of wine, they would celebrate and light the whole town with the news. For a town like Nānti, such news was worth a party. But she was not even as happy as was normal with her on her good days.

  ‘Mother, what did they say?’

  Madam Békhtèn sighed and told her with all the forthrightness she could muster about her. She had changed her mind about playing around it. She had to do so because the young girl was growing into a woman and as such would have to learn how to deal with disappointments, because life was full of them. If she could get her to see that, she would have taken her a step further up the ladder of adulthood.

  Besides, it was her news after all. She was the one to decide what to do with it and how to respond to it.

  ‘My dear, they went over the lists that had been published. Your name was not on anyone of them. They assured me that all admission letters had been shipped out to those who made the cut. But…’

  By now, Ūö was in tears.

  ‘But they gave us another option. They said we could apply for another course. The courses open to application for supplementary admission are listed in the form I bought from them. It should be in my handbag.’

  No, the young girl did not hear all of that.

  # # #

  Ūö felt her world cackle under her feet. She had been betrayed by hope and that lofty vision of herself.

  She was indeed a smart girl and by school standards, was above average. But the news placed a dent on that pristine vision of herself that she had. That was all that mattered after all.

  I must say something that I am sure that ALL my readers are familiar with, namely, that there is no human being who does not know the taste of failure. It need not be in school grades and it need not be in account balances. But in ways peculiar to each one of us, we all have dealt with failures. Failures challenge us in our vision of ourselves. And Ūö’s case was no different. If she once saw herself as a genius, such a vision was challenged by that news for now, she had to contend within her why geniuses like her never made a 100-man list. If she once saw herself as truly a ‘voice of the voicele
ss’, such a vision was being challenged. If she once saw herself as ‘better’ than her two sisters, it was being challenged as well. Such a vision was put to the test by that one failure. Would she accept it as the reality of life, one that geniuses and those who are the voice of the voiceless to their own world have to deal with? Would she see in all of that a challenge that tests the durability of her self-vision?

  Those were her questions to answer.

  Madam Békhtèn’s home was by that thrown into mourning. Peace and Borûn, when they heard the news were jubilant, though not in a very conspicuous way. They found consolation in it for all their own failures, which life had rubbed in their faces. But she was the prize of the home. She was everything they could never dream of becoming. She was their own symbol of hope. And they mourned with her in their hearts even though they were aware that she looked on them with scorn. For after all, they were part of the world from which he wanted to escape.

  # # #

  Daniel was sure he could comfort her for good. But he was reminded of his place in his mistress’ home. He had led on the talk in a bid to place back some hope if not consolation into the scene. ‘But it’s not like everything is lost. I mean she could take up another related course of study, sociology, political science, theatre arts, linguistics for the mean time. She could switch to law if she makes her first year on a high. Or she could still retake the admission exams next year while studying something else. The only thing that would be lost will be time. I mean, she’s still young after all. She has a lot more to live for.’

  It was not that what he was saying was not true. It did not seem to avail for the moment. Such wisdom had to wait out the mourning season of the girl’s life.

  To the girl in pain, it would sound as downplaying her disappointment. And that would be to add to her despair.

  Madam Békhtèn was certain that her daughter would come over her disappointment in a few days. It was natural for people to lose sight of the more important things in their time of setbacks. To ask the girl to not weep or speak her despair would be to dehumanize her after all. They would have to wait out her grief.

  # # #

  The ultimate test for Ūö was with that vision of herself, which up till that time, had remained untested. She did not think she could stand that little event that had undermined it. And once her self-vision, the only thing that was truly hers, had been undermined, her poise was placed under threat.

  Chapter Eighteen: A Penny for Your Thoughts

  Brim managed to find me a lodging. It was not at all the best that my money could afford. But it was something in a town at Nānti at that time. The ‘lodging’ for the night was an empty staircase. That was all he could offer me—all he could afford actually. I did not mind for after all, I have been worse places.

  He totally forgot about his brother. He wanted to know everything about the things that had been mystery to him. Computers. Traffic lights, televisions, etc. He was particular about one: ‘How do they kill people in movies?’

  I am not a moviemaker but I had a little idea of it that I shared with him.

  ‘It looks so real that I used to think they put criminals on death row on those movies so they could shoot them during those fight scenes. And what about those that fly in movies?’

  He meant Superman. He had seen the movie in Madam Békhtèn’s hall.

  I explained that one too, though not in a way that fully satisfied his curiosity. It did not matter if his curiosity was fully satisfied, what mattered the most was that the questions he’d thought had no answers did in fact have answers. What were once mysteries to him had turned out to be things that had explanations, explanations that he could appropriate by his own imagination.

  My interview took the whole night until the next dawn from when we went to see the town.

  Just by the time that Madam Békhtèn’s Mercedes 300 was making its way into the town, we were making our turn towards Black’s shop when we bumped into Money.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been since Saturday? And how much have you made?’ Money had asked as if he’d expected that much from his brother, whom he has judged a nitwit.

  Brim took a step back and observed him. He then turned to me and introduced me. ‘This is Frank Achebe. He’s the one that has been taking my time.’

  Money wouldn’t give a hand. I didn’t bother myself. All he got from me was a grin.

  ‘What is wrong with you? Why don’t you ever listen? And what are you doing with a stranger?’

  ‘He’s not a stranger, not any more. I just introduced him to you. He’s from Noiā.’

  ‘That’s for another day. You are coming with me. I need to get some tools for our next work.’ He said and took the first step in the hope that his brother would follow him as usual. He was disappointed when Brim would not. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

  ‘He promised to take me to Noiā.’ He said referring to me. That got me a deathly sneer from Money. ‘If I take him around town and tell him things….’

  A slap.

  With the slap, I took two steps farther from them. It did not seem too good to stand between brother and brother.

  ‘I was going to ask you to come with us….’ Brim was not crying this time. His face had reddened and he was rubbing the slap in but he was confident of himself. For someone had showed him that he was not after all, a bagpipe that could be played by another person.

  ‘Who is ‘us’? Are you insane? I am going to count up to five and if you don’t follow me, you….’

  ‘I’m sorry brother. There’s nothing in this town for me and none for you.’

  Money looked on in shock.

  ‘And besides, he’s a good man.’

  ‘Have I not been good to you?’ A lump was now in Money’s throat.

  ‘I didn’t mean it that way.’

  ‘Do you even know who he is? He could be a kidnapper. Or a human trafficker. With this your head, he could sell you for a handful of peanuts.’

  ‘No he won’t….’ his voice was now rising. ‘It’s you who have sold me for a handful of peanuts. You’ve treated me like a dog.’

  ‘Because that is what you are. A piece of dog meat.’

  ‘You can say that again. But I’m going to go to Noiā and I’m going to be an actor.’

  Money now turned to face me. ‘So this is what you put in his stupid head? You’ve taken advantage of his naivety.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that if I were you. If you talked to me like that in my city, I would have boys of your age play a song for you to dance all through the night. And you are definitely going to sweat it out. So if I were you, I’d rather watch my mouth in order to avoid a cleft on my upper lip.’

  Brim let out a laugh at that.

  Money was shocked at that. Much more than shocked, he was silenced.

  I took a step in the opposite direction and Brim followed in my direction after a minute of looking on to his brother in guilt.

  But that changed everything for the nineteen-year old boy who was called Brim, short of Brimstone. He fell into silence with that. It was written all over him that the encounter gave him more guilt than it had given him freedom.

  # # #

  That Sunday morning, an eleven-year old boy had reported at Black’s shop with the message that his mother wanted to see him.

  A few minutes past eight, he was seated in her presence. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall and her two legs stretched apart. She would go to rubbing them from time to time as she spoke.

  ‘Wonder why your generation have a fewer fathers than others?’

  Black had wondered but he had found no answer, not one that satisfied his wonder.

  ‘It’s because of the war. The price a generation pays for its wars often times is its men. Of course you know your father’s story. You were six then. If he stayed back in town, he will be safe. But he wouldn’t listen. He felt it was the task of women and children to tell the tales for the next generation. He
would hardly put in a word, even when occasion demanded for he believed that a man should be known by his actions, not by his words. He did not want to be a storyteller in the world that would come after the war. He wanted to be either the victim or the victor. He never said a word about it, never gave a goodbye. But when he left, I knew what was in his heart. And I honour him for it.’

  There was a moment of silence before she continued. ‘I am sorry for Tupac. They told me he’s dead. You know a lot about you changed when you started listening to the thing you called hip-hop and rap and all that. Forgive my dislike for it. It’s too noisy. But it changed you. It made you want to make something out of your life, no matter how small it was. It told you that you are not alone in your struggles as a young man. And that was when you got that barber shop and look at you now? You pay my rents and your two sister’s school and boarding fees.’

  That was when she came to it. Black’s mother knew her son very well. She was surprised when he’d told her about Madam Békhtèn’s daughter. It was great news to hear that her son had his eyes on a woman. She was given to teasing him lately about getting married. Black’s objections were that he could not love a woman. Her answer was that marriage was a different thing, other than ‘love’. ‘If you find a woman who can follow you, and one whom you can fulfil your duties to as a man and a husband, then there’s nothing to it. Duty not love was what marriage was to my generation. It liberated us in ways modern women would never understand. It made us not ask for too much. And believe me, there is freedom in that.’

  Until now, Black hadn’t said a word.

  ‘About Madam Békhtèn’s daughter, I have heard stories about her. I am a woman and women are fickle. That also is their greatness. Our malleability means that you can easily beat us into whatever shape you want her to be. I know she’s wayward but if you have loved her the way she is now, what does all of that matter?’

  She had paused before coming to the main event of the night. ‘Do you think I should speak to her about it?’

  ‘No mother.’

  ‘Alright, alright, alright. But the best time to chase a black goat is during the day.’