The Place Beyond Her Dreams

by Oby Aligwekwe

  * * *

  “Papa,” I said aloud, collapsing on the sofa in tears as I recalled what my grandfather had said the last time I was in Luenah. The ache in my heart convinced me I had surrendered something significant. It all became clear to me. Everything did. My grandfather had said that I needed to exchange something. I felt I did that tonight.

  My distress drove me to Luenah. I found myself walking down the narrow path with one foot in front of the other. Out on the seashore, the atmosphere was dreary, and the skies were dark. So dark, not a single star danced in it. I could hardly remember a time I’d viewed Luenah in such a state. I had been under the impression that nighttime didn’t exist there. I sat down to rest, as my mind processed a series of thoughts. The sand was cold against my skin. I closed my eyes and let the wind blow over my face, carrying with it scents of seaweed and brine. There was no sound, but I knew he had come when he tapped my shoulder and sat next to me.

  “Yes?” my grandfather responded.

  “Papa, did I do the right thing?” I sobbed.

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  I cried some more. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m sure you know enough now about finding your purpose to recognize that the person you plan to spend your life with plays a big role in achieving it.”

  I looked at him with wet eyes.

  “Who is the right person?”

  “That’s your choice to make.”

  “What do I do now?”

  The exchange is yours. If you choose the wrong person, you may wander around this earth searching non-stop for your purpose. Should you find it, the wrong person will thwart its fulfillment. Your exchange is your opportunity cost. It is what you give up for choosing one option over the other. But beyond that, it is what you’re unwilling to bear at the point of making a choice, which is what makes it so difficult to fathom.”

  I wiped my face to dry the tears coursing down my cheeks as I tried to make sense of his words. “I wonder why being an Eri, I’m still susceptible to this much pain.”

  “The gift is not self-serving. Rather, it’s meant for the service of others.”

  “I understand... What’s happening here?” I said, pointing to the sky. “It’s never been this dark in Luenah.”

  “There are so many things you’re yet to—”

  He barely mouthed the next word before he vanished. I came out of Luenah as quickly as I had entered. Ifedi had been watching me the entire time I was there. I didn’t think I stayed too long, which was a good thing; otherwise, she would have panicked and called my grandmother. Her reaction told me she had gotten used to my fainting episodes, her label for my trips to Luenah.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Two seconds. You sound as though this nonsense is normal. We need to check you into a hospital the next time it happens.”

  I ignored her as I recalled what drove me to Luenah in the first place. Okem had overheard me. Had I mastered the lesson about the exchange earlier, I would not have said those mean words that sent him away. I wouldn’t have even bothered about his status and class. I had failed to make the exchange that was required of me. The one I knew was right for me. I gave up love for what I thought would bring me happiness—the security a life with Albert would provide. This was exactly what my grandfather had warned me against.

  “Is Okem really gone,” I asked Ifedi.

  “We could still bring him back,” she said rather unconvincingly.

  “How could he leave without telling me?”

  She shrugged.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why does love hurt so much?” I moaned, shaking my head from side to side.

  * * *

  As I began to get accustomed to the possibility that I may never see Okem again, we heard the rattling sound of the wrought iron gate. I looked at Ifedi expectantly, with the last shred of hope that Okem may have returned. We ran out of the room and got on the porch as the gardener was starting downhill, picking up speed as he rode towards the main house. I burst into tears again and immediately stepped down to meet him.

  “Where’s Okem?” I asked.

  “I dropped him at the bus stop,” he said after a slight hesitation.

  “Do you know where he was going? Did he say?”

  The gardener shook his head slowly.

  “Ona, come,” Ifedi said, grabbing me by my hand.

  “Come where? Leave me alone,” I screamed at Ifedi, causing her to jump.

  “Come.”

  I swallowed hard as my heart skipped a beat, and I gasped for air, collapsing into Ifedi’s arms.

  “He’ll come back,” Ifedi said. “He’ll be back before dawn. He loves you too much. He always comes back.”

  Chapter Nine

  OKEM DIDN’T COME back by dawn as Ifedi had predicted. Albert returned the following day to enquire about his proposal. I was hiding in my room, drowning in my misery, when Ifedi rushed in to offer some help.

  “You can’t meet him looking like that,” she griped, pointing at my matted hair, evidence of my self-neglect.

  “Like how?” I had asked. “I can’t meet him at all. What will I say to him? What will he think of me? Besides, I don’t care to see anyone right now. Don’t make me do this, Ifedi. Please don’t.”

  “Sit down,” she ordered, pointing at a chair, and ignoring my pleas.

  I felt like a little girl all over again and did as she asked. I was too weak to fight Ifedi. In my state, she could have ordered me to the ends of the earth, and I would still have obeyed her. She entered the bathroom and returned with a cup of water. With one hand, she poured the water on the ends of my hair, and with the other, she separated the chunks of hair. To detangle, she combed through the tresses, starting from the tips and making her way down to the roots, yanking my skull back and forth in the process. I jerked as she pulled my hair a tad too heavily and tapped me hard on the shoulder with the comb, hitting my clavicle.

  “Stop!” I shouted, causing her to jump. “Why did you do that?”

  “I’ve asked you so many times to sit still while I’m plaiting your hair.”

  “It’s not funny, Ifedi. The next time you hit me like that, I’ll hit you right back.”

  “Sorry,” she said in a drawn voice. “I was just playing with you. You’ve been too morose these days. I wanted to wake you up.”

  “And so what? Don’t play like that. I don’t like it.”

  “I’ve said sorry. How are things with Albert?”

  “So-so.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “How will I know? I’ll have to wait until I see him. I just hope I can look him straight in the eye after what happened yesterday.”

  “I agree, and I hope you’ll do the right thing this time. You can go now,” she continued, tapping me again, gently this time. If you play your cards right, you just might be our next queen.”

  “Haha,” I responded dryly.

  Albert had been waiting nearly an hour by the time I got downstairs. He came towards me and reached out for a hug, but I retreated slowly from his embrace and took the seat next to him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, a sullen expression crossing his face.

  “Nothing. I’ve been feeling a little sick lately.”

  “You mentioned you were tired yesterday. Why don’t you let me take you to a doctor?”

  “No. It’s not that kind of sickness. I’ll be fine after I rest for a day or two.”

  “I hope so. What about my proposal? Have you had time to think about it? Will you marry me or not?”

  “I don’t know. Not now,” I said beseechingly.

  “Not now? When then? Could... Could you at least give me an idea of when I can expect an answer?”

  “Albert, I said I don’t know,” I reiterated, sighing deeply. “Can you leave now? I need to head back to my room and finish something.”

  I couldn’t possibly tell him right then that Okem was the one I wanted, not him. That wo
uld break his heart into so many pieces it would be impossible to put them back together.

  “Ona, I honestly can’t fathom the reason for your change in attitude. I just can’t!” he said, getting up and leaving in annoyance, causing me further dejection.

  * * *

  That night, I dreamt that as I was walking down a path, a creature strode right past me, causing a slight tremor on the ground. As I was trying to regain my balance, it crept behind a shrub and glared at me with huge, glowing eyes, frightening me. I had woken suddenly from the nightmare and was sweating profusely. I could have sworn the face on the creature was of someone I knew very well, but I couldn’t say who it was with certainty.

  In the morning, as I reflected on the meaning of my dream and wondering if it had something to do with Okem’s disappearance or even with the darkness I experienced the last time I was in Luenah, Ifedi rushed into my room wearing a sullen look on her face.

  “Ona, there’s something I think you should know,” she said, sitting slowly by my bedside.

  “Is Okem back?” I asked excitedly, pushing the covers away and scrambling to the other side of the bed to get up without obstruction.

  “Ona, no. Okem is not back. And I don’t think you should keep torturing yourself because of Okem.”

  “What do you mean?” I was angry that Ifedi did not understand the amount of pain Okem’s disappearance caused me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Even more so for what I’m about to tell you. Honestly, if I had known it would have caused you such grief, I wouldn’t have agreed to the plot.”

  “Stop talking in riddles. Tell me what you want to say.”

  “Okem asked me to pose those questions to you after we both overheard Albert propose.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head non-stop while I waited for her to explain.

  “I refused at first, but he begged me. He wanted to hear for himself who you would choose, him or Albert. I don’t think it ever crossed his mind that you would pick anyone else over him—”

  “Wait! You’re saying Okem set all that up to figure out who I wanted between him and Albert?”

  She nodded.

  “I didn’t know—”

  “How could you have agreed to such a thing?” I yelled, stopping her mid-sentence. “And why did you not alert me when I was saying those horrible things about him? Why?”

  I pulled off the covers completely and paced the room angrily, shaking my head in disdain. Stopping at the window, a ray of the morning sun reminded me that I hadn’t experienced joy in a while.

  “Ona, it didn’t occur to me at the time that you liked Okem this much. And what was I to do? It seemed to me that you really liked Albert too. Don’t blame me.”

  “Well, it’s not your fault. His plan worked. He got the answers he needed for his burning questions and got burned in the end. If only he wasn’t so cocky and impatient, he would have waited to hear me out!” I was fuming, staring out the window but only seeing red.

  “Okem was a hundred percent sure you would choose him,” Ifedi said. “He kept saying that your constant rejection was your way of testing his patience.”

  “He said that?” I shrieked, turning around to look at Ifedi.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Oh, God! He really thinks everything is about him. Does he think I play games like that?”

  Ifedi rose from her position on the bed and grabbed my shoulders. She dragged me away from the window and gently guided me to the settee.

  “What should I do now?” I sobbed, looking down in embarrassment.

  I was angry at Okem, but he wasn’t there for me to take my anger out on him. I was even angrier at Ifedi for agreeing to such foolery, but I needed her to comfort me. Regardless, it felt like a betrayal. I raised my head to look at her face. At that moment, I remembered my nightmare from the night before, and it occurred to me hers was the face I saw looking at me through the shrubbery, and I shuddered.

  * * *

  At school, I thought endlessly about Okem, walking around with the aftermath of many sleepless nights and a heavy heart. I saw him everywhere I looked and I refused to eat.

  The situation went from bad to worse on my way to a lecture on a very hot afternoon. A faint buzzing in my ears stopped me in my tracks, and I almost fainted on the stairs as a throng of students sped by to get to class on time. Luckily, a good samaritan stopped and helped me regain my balance before taking me to the clinic. The next day, my grandmother rode for six hours from Ntebe to Ajidi to speak to me after dissuading my mother from abandoning an important assignment to be by my side.

  Her words got through to me. After that day, I vowed to turn things around, but it wasn’t easy. I sought every possible way to render Okem insignificant in my life. A shift occurred in my consciousness. My grief evolved. From crying and mourning, I became blinded by hatred. I hated Okem so much that whenever I thought about him, I imagined an egocentric maniac. It made me feel better, but only briefly. Over time, even though I still thought about him every day, I started to feel like my old self again.

  From hatred, I developed a genuine concern for him. I believed it was stupid of me to have ignored and avoided him after Albert and I became close. It was even more stupid of me to say those things about him. But I didn’t just blame myself. I blamed Okem too. If only he had been patient enough to hear my true feelings. If only he had trusted enough in the love we had for each other. If only he had a stronger backbone. So many ifs. We were both responsible.

  Chapter Ten

  “I KNOW WHY Ona seemed so out of sorts a while ago,” Albert had said to my grandmother during a visit a year after Okem’s disappearance.

  “Why?” she asked, panic-stricken that my indecision had become public knowledge and that my chances of marrying the most eligible bachelor in Ide and environs had been completely dashed.

  “Depression,” he’d answered. “What else? It happens to the best of us.”

  “Oh,” my grandmother said with relief.

  I could see the smile spreading over her entire face as she leaned into the chair.

  Hilarious. It was depression, alright. Albert, I believed, knew the cause of my problem and was only pretending in hopes that someday I would get over whatever it was and realize I was in love with him. It must have been clear to him as it was to everyone else that my unhappiness started right after Okem unexpectedly disappeared, but he still insisted on marrying me under those circumstances. I had spared him the details of my troubles in fear that I would hurt him and possibly lose him. And I was just too ashamed to discuss the topic with him. Too ashamed to reveal to him that I was mourning the rejection from the person he once referred to as “servant boy.”

  My caution with Albert wasn’t solely to preserve my chance of marrying the most eligible bachelor. That was my grandmother’s goal. What no one else knew was that I had started developing some affection for him over the past few months. Albert had slowly found his way through the crevices Okem left in my heart and filled the spaces with his strength and assurance. He showed me what it was like to be loved despite my unwillingness to reciprocate such love. With time I started to believe I was capable of loving him as much as he loved me. It could end up being that Albert was meant for me. My grandfather hadn’t told me which choice was right. He had left the task of choosing to me. “Choosing for you would tip the balance in the universe,” he had said. The school of life, he called it. I had been provided the lesson. Now it was up to me to make my own choices and learn from any mistakes along the way.

  * * *

  Despite my progress and Albert’s efforts to keep me happy, I still slipped in and out of a low mood occasionally. One afternoon, my heart was heavy, and my hand was clenched around the lower part of my stomach as I looked out of the window while droplets of rain fell from the sky. The ravine from my window looked so lush and beautiful; it seemed to me Okem might be hiding there for a moment. I thought I’d seen something, so I moved closer t
o get a better look.

  “Are you still thinking about that boy?” Ifedi asked, startling me.

  I hadn’t heard her enter the room.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  Her question had worsened my emotional state and caused my eyes to water profusely. I thought I had shed every single tear in me. In the past few months, they had rolled down my cheeks like rainwater rolling down corrugated iron sheets and splattered on the ground all around me. I remained crouched on the chair, looking out the window. Ifedi came closer and sat right beside me. I could see the pain in her expression as she gently wiped my cheeks. She didn’t say another word, letting us sit in silence, which I was grateful for.

  “How could Okem stay away for so long?” I finally said, looking at her with forlorn eyes.

  Ifedi looked at me blankly while she waited for me to calm down. Too ashamed to look in her direction, I placed my head between my knees, but she reached for my chin and raised it to glare at me.

  “You need to learn to let go,” she finally said after a few seconds had passed.

  I shut my swollen eyes to get rid of the buildup of tears.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” I said after I opened my eyes again.

  “You’re doing a poor job at it.”

  “How?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” she said, kneeling before me and taking both of my hands in hers. “Listen carefully,” she said.

  “I am listening,” I said, waiting eagerly for her to begin.

  “No. Look at me. Not like Ifedi, your friend or companion, or whatever else you see me as now. Really look at me.”