Dr. Paul is totally engulfed by a deep affection for Cynthia. Sitting in his office right now and thinking through the whole episode, he suddenly realizes that he has loved Cynthia instantly from the moment he observed her unique spirit of determination and fortitude. Though she obviously blames him for her brother’s death, he will talk to her later, when she wakes up.
“But what could be causing so much pain to one so young and so lovely?” he wonders. Then he immediately promises himself that he is going to find out soon enough. He trusts his hunches once again, to conclude that whatever can make a person react this way is far beyond just the grief over the death of a brother. “There is more to it!” he concludes, and he expects that the next few hours will tell him all.
Hours later, in the first aid room, Cynthia is fully awake from her induced tranquility. She feels a little stronger now, just lying still on the bed. Dr. Paul is standing by the door of the room, unknown to her. He has been here for a couple of minutes now, silently watching the replay of emotions on her cherubic face. They are emotions of pain, despair, deep loss, and definitely sadness. He is also taking this special moment to himself to gauge her mood now and imagine what will be a possible reaction or attack from her. He is methodically considering what approach to use.
Then slowly, he walks across the room to her bed side. Upon seeing him approach, Cynthia pulls the covers over her head and promptly slides beneath the sheets; she wants to be left alone and has nothing to say to this man. What is he doing here now? She sulks.
But Dr. Paul pulls a chair along with him as he comes closer to her bed. He positions the chair near the bed, just close enough to lean over and touch her. He sits down. Then he takes a while trying to ascertain just how to begin. Taking hold of her one free hand that is out beside her from under the sheet, he calls gently, “Cynthia.”
No response!
“Cynthia,” he calls again. “How are you feeling now?” But no response at all.
Dr. Paul quietly withdraws his hand as he gently replaces her hand on the bed. Then he heaves himself backward to rest on the back support of the chair. Shaking his head sideways in reflex, he quietly assimilates this familiar scenario of a really difficult case.
Then suddenly, she slowly pulls the cover down after what seems like an eternal reluctance, to reveal a tear-drenched face. Dr. Paul knows and expects as much; he can imagine all the possibilities in the shadows of her agony. But these pains can still be assuaged; they will surely pass away over time.
Knowing this, Dr. Paul now comes forward again and draws her open palm closer to himself, covering it up with his own hands. He looks deep into her eyes. He is very fond of looking into people’s eyes!
“Listen to me. Cynthia.” he begins softly. “I want you to know that Okechukwu’s death is also very painful to us. He is your brother, I know, and I know how much you love him, but we love him too, even for the little time he was here, such that we are missing him as well. He is but a child and, I believe, a very lovely boy. That is why we tried very much to save his life.” He pauses briefly to weigh her reaction and to choose his next words carefully. Seeing no response from her, he continues. “But he probably prefers to go to heaven before all of us. He should be in heaven right now. You know that, Cynthia?” He says it cheerfully, hoping that it is a better way to start pulling her out of her agony.
But unfortunately for this attempt, her spirit is too down to be cheered. Oh God! Can you imagine what he is saying to me? Is he here to mock me, too? She thinks to herself. Obviously no longer in love with God anymore, but she still uses his name and calls him instinctively.
Dr. Paul continues talking to her despite her disenchantment. At a particular moment, he even asks her to sit up, and surprisingly, she quietly obliges. Now he helps her to balance well with a pillow that he places under her elbows. Sitting up now, she heavily clasps her two palms together, detached, and with her face covered in tears. She is sitting still on the bed but staring endlessly into space, occasionally glancing back at him emptily without any word. All her words had been swallowed up and stored in the deep recesses of her heart, where they will be safe.
“I want you to know that I feel particularly sorry about Okechuwu’s death,” Dr. Paul continues. “I know how you love him, and I don’t wish you to continue alone in your tears. All of us here in this hospital care about you.” He pauses briefly and then continues. “We tried everything to save Okechukwu, but the damage done to him was advanced even before you brought him here. But we have gone past that now; what we really want now is to help you recover. You have to allow us do that. We care about your well-being, and I am here for you.”
When she didn’t even blink at him, Dr. Paul finally realizes that he may not be able to pull her out after all, at least not at the moment. “My dear, all you have to do for me is be strong—for Okechukwu, for yourself, and for all of us in this hospital. Please. We are going to help you. It is going to be all right.” he declares, trying to give her a little confidence and trust in him. He knows full well that the major obstacle between her and the hospital, himself in particular, is mistrust; she blames them all for her brother’s death. This is a non-issue, actually, considering that it is a usual distress reaction they experience at the hospital any time people lose their loved ones. They have see many such cases before, but here, Dr. Paul is taking Cynthia’s case quite very personally, and he doesn’t know why yet.
Cynthia’s mind is too blocked with grief to reason along with him. Maybe this man does not really even understand anything at all, Cynthia thinks to herself again while staring blankly at him. She is not just going to say anything to him anymore, because no one can understand! They don’t care, and that is why somebody would be sitting here right now and telling her that Okechukwu’s death is just fine—they think it’s easy. They won’t understand; after all, they are all wicked people who could not save her brother. That is why she won’t talk to any of them. She should go back to sleep; she just wants to rest now—and possibly rest endlessly, just like Okee is doing now.
But at this last thought, two heavy lines of tears roll off her eyes. She blinks them off robotically, and more comes showering, soaking the blue gown she is wearing. The tears soak through the supporting pillow she has under her elbows.
But Dr. Paul will not be distracted by her tears; that is not actually what he came to do, even as he is almost compelled to reach up and wipe her tears with his palms. Instead he speaks again, still clasping his palms over hers. “It’s okay, Cynthia. I want you to know that we can help you. Now, I want you to tell me everything that happened, if you are strong enough. Okay? Or you can ask me to come back later. Just call me anytime at all, because I want to leave you now so you may rest. But if, or whenever, you call me back, we can talk as friends, and you may then tell me about your parents and about the woman with whom you said you live. You can also tell me more about Okechukwu.” He enunciates with great concern, indirectly encouraging her to speak to him. He now also offers her a napkin to wipe her smudged face, instead of using his palms to do it as he was almost compelled to do before. She collects the small, soft towel from him and dabs weakly at her face.
Afterward, Dr. Paul reaches up and lifts her face with his hands. He tilts her head slightly backward and up at his face, so that she cannot avoid staring back at him. A very natural but magical, warm, and conciliatory smile springs forth from the corners of his mouth. Cynthia can feel her face being so small inside the frames of his two large palms. Then she weakly smiles back in an involuntary reflex.
Dr. Paul says, “You are a beautiful young girl, and you are going to be all right. Okay?”
She is not sure what to say to him in reply, but she gives a very faint, dejected nod. At those very genuine but calculated gestures from Dr. Paul, calculated by his years of practice, Cynthia suddenly softens up a bit. If only he would understand what she has been through. That her p
arents are dead. That she is now truly alone in this world. If only he would know how much she loves her beautiful Okee. She is in deep thoughts and wonders if Dr. Paul will understand. Her fear now is whether someone will understand and really sympathize with her.
After more prodding, in an attempt to get her to relax her agitations and speak to him, she finally reconsiders. Looking at him now, she dares to believe him and trust him a little, but just a little. And slowly she begins to talk. Sitting in such a warm and cordial proximity with Dr. Paul, she finally relaxes completely. Soon, with an almost hero-like trust in Dr. Paul, she tells him all, baring her heart and telling him everything that has ever been her pain.
Dr. Paul listens to her with very experienced attention, and he never shifts his gaze from her eyes once, despite all the many tears that surge from them. It is more as if he extracted the stories from her with the sheer magic of that wholesome gaze from the very pit of his eyes, the windows to his soul. Cynthia can no longer escape the genuine concern and love that shines so brightly in those honest eyes.
Finally, Dr. Paul now knows exactly how she feels. She is but a child of course, and a teenage girl for that matter. Dr. Paul really understands all the implications of both the former and the latter. He pities her so much and desires to save her from this undeserved grief of her young life. The tender affections he feels for her grows even deeper after her narration.
Though grossly embittered, depressed, and almost shattered to pieces, Cynthia is now no longer alone in her grief. Her withered strength is the attraction of love and the peculiar attention of Dr. Paul. The man is a silent witness to the whole event, starting from the moment Cynthia brought Okechukwu to the hospital, to this minute she recounted her story to him, and in her subsequent recurrences of devastation and traumatic recaps over her brother’s death.
It would help a little to understand who Dr. Paul really is and what his intentions are. He is a medical surgeon who is both humane and human, exemplifying good nature in his own capacity. Dr. Paul is better described as a kind man. He is in his early forties, and from his day-to-day demeanor and lifestyle, his goodness does not seem to have a conditional relationship with his profession. It rather seems to have everything to do with his nature. He is simply kind-hearted and has what one might call a good spirit. He understands Cynthia’s plight wholeheartedly and then readily and most willingly offers her help, even without her asking, or without him hoping to take any advantage of her. About eight years ago, when he had just returned to the country after spending close to five years in India acquiring both his master’s and doctorate degrees, and as an associate surgeon at some of India’s prestigious hospitals, he set up his own specialist hospital and named it Namaste. Asked why “Namaste” in an environment that has no knowledge or understanding of India’s culture or sentiments, Dr. Paul readily explains that by the simple non-contact but warm form of greeting, “Namaste,”—which respectfully cuts across all age, gender, or social status, and is traditionally preferred in India and other countries of the Indian subcontinents—he wants everyone that walks through the gates of Namaste Specialist Hospital to feel highly welcome by the warm effect of its name, even without at all knowing the etymology or meaning of the word. As easy or plain an explanation as it is, it reflects the man’s character. Any one that walks into Namaste Specialist Hospital gets unrivaled attention and treatment.
To Cynthia, Dr. Paul is like a tall glass of cold water under the heat of the sun. First he becomes a mouthpiece for Cynthia, defending the defenseless because a day later he will go with Cynthia to Mama Ngozi’s house. The outcome of the visit will be a different turn.
More important, this night he is taking Cynthia home—to his house.
His wife is a very lovely woman and will treat Cynthia as she would her very own child. She will be very happy to have her as a teenage daughter when her husband eventually proposes to adopt Cynthia, although a serious existing doubt about that would be the appropriateness of carrying out such an adoption plan without either contact or the consent of Cynthia’s existing family.
During their discussions a week later, Cynthia pleads with Dr. Paul and his wife not to contact her family. They want to reach the Obi family back in her village out of respect for the traditional extended family system, and because Cynthia is only seventeen—not yet up to the decision-making age of eighteen by law. But Cynthia’s horror of her past supersedes their intentions, and not wanting to allay propriety in expense of their overwhelming sympathy and love for Cynthia—and at the same time, not wanting to deprive Cynthia her right of full consent and will, which is required in every adoption—Paul and his wife are in fact left in a fix. It has been a very difficult moment for them all.
However, on a personal investigation and fact-finding mission, Dr. Paul travels to her hometown by himself, to look for her Aunt Christy, as Cynthia has described. But he does not find her. He investigates further and finds out that most of the stories Cynthia narrated are true—or at least, they are held as rumors in the village, especially the ones about the death of her parents. He returns to Lagos the next day after the journey without a solution to the fix.
But finally, and in the week that precedes Okechukwu’s burial, proper records are already set, as their doubt naturally clears away by the investigated facts. This now enables them to adopt Cynthia legally, but only ad-hoc, pending the time her true family surfaces or she grows to make her own decisions.
The fact that Christy is not found for contact during Paul’s trip to the village is constituting new worries for Cynthia. Paul returns with her letter to Christy—the one she would have sent a year back, as agreed on the day of their departure from the village, had events worked as planned and not been such a rapid roller coaster. Cynthia fears that her aunty may have been killed also, just like her mother, and she recalls what Dike said the night of their departure. But Paul’s wife is helping her through all that, and she always disarms all Cynthia’s fears and worries with constant love and affection.
The couple’s birth children, Mma, Nonso, and Chika, are only five, four, and two, respectively. They are much younger than Cynthia, who is quite tall and almost grown, but that is not a challenge for Paul’s wife; with loving hospitality and comfort, Cynthia is very welcome into her home. Helen, Dr. Paul’s wife, loves Cynthia in a similar way her husband does. They are a unique couple with an excellent family life. Who would now say that birds of same feather do not actually flock together? Of course they do, because Helen and Paul sure have very similar features in their nature. Everyone must not be the same, as always rightly argued, but wonderful, nice, and loving people are always a beauty to behold.
Paul and his wife are now parents to Cynthia, and Cynthia also finds new younger siblings in Mma, Nonso, and Chika. About a year after Cynthia joins them, another new baby also comes to the household. With the arrival of little Betty, they are a happy family of two parents and five children. Betty is Paul and Helen’s last child. Cynthia is everything a daughter can be to the couple, and everything a sister can be to their birth children. She is naturally kind, loving, caring, and deeply resourceful. She surely loves her new family. It is here that she restarts schooling, and before long she is back to where she could be. As it is often said, the darkest part of the night is the closest to dawn, despite the unstoppable twists of fate over one’s life.
To know Helen, she is a woman of thirty-six years old who allows herself to truly live, not just in mere existence but also in full essence. She knows what it means to be both a person and a woman. She is a woman that never spares anything to have the very best of everything. They are living comfortably, and both she and Paul are gainfully employed. Helen is a midwife but practices at a different hospital. Living in a class of their own specification, happiness, and comfort, the level of their house is quite striking in its unmistakable definition of success, but the warmth in it is far more enviable than all its obvious glamour.
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Helen and Paul met at a two-year internship at medical school. At the time they met, she never knew Paul would be the one, but over time, through their discussions and extended relationship, she was later convinced that Paul was surely the one man for her. Before they became close friends back then, she had a subtle attraction for Paul and used to admire him secretly. She particularly liked the way he talked, which had always sounded like he was speaking to her very soul. Every time he passed and she noticed, her heart would miss a beat. And Paul was also handsome!
Many men could be handsome indeed, but not many were handsome and nice, kind and genuine at the same time, as was Paul. Helen was so moved by these qualities, and she repeatedly thought to herself, even back then, that he was her full package. She was very sure Paul was what she wanted, even from afar, and it didn’t take long before they finally became friends.
She loves him so much now, and their love remains strong, their marriage becoming stronger over time. The sound of his voice still makes her tingle, and his handsome face still allures her endlessly. For Helen, Paul is her legendary, tall, handsome, nice, kind, and sweet model, corroborating the saying that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.
For his own part, Paul had an instant crush on Helen when they first met. For him, it was love at first sight. Back then he had wondered at the rather short lady whose presence and swift gait commanded attention in a large hall or any room, even more grasping than the very tall ones. Paul liked that about her, as distinctive as it was; and it made him curious about her. That was how their love story began and blossomed to five years later, when they got married after Helen graduated; Paul had graduated two years earlier.
One Love, Many Tears Page 14