Life After Death

by Brian Ndingindwayo

  She nearly cried out loud.

  Chapter 59

  Sipeyiye made up his mind overnight.

  At dawn, he phoned the police. A voice, sleepy and extremely bored, answered at the other end. ‘Police. Can I help?’

  ‘Sure, I wonder if I can talk to anybody taking care of the case on Natasha Chuma.’

  ‘I’m afraid we can’t say anything on the phone. Besides, you can’t expect anybody to be working on the case at this time, would you?’

  He was mildly irritated. ‘That’s not the point. I don’t mean to make you angry or whatever. I can assure you I’m quite incapable. I just wanted to say Natasha would turn up most likely at dusk tomorrow. Meanwhile, she is going to Sanity Home. She has an appointment she can’t miss, you see. Can you pass the message?’

  ‘Are you sure it’s the police here taking care of the matter?’

  ‘As sure as hell.’

  ‘But you better phone again and confirm.’

  He hung up. He ran his hand over his head. He gazed at the phone again and dialled the hospital.

  ‘Hello,’ a woman voice responded, equally tired. Sipeyiye observed that today everyone seemed to be tired. ‘It’s urbanization!’ he cursed. ‘Man should go back to the jungle and re-strategize. This town thing was getting to them.’

  ‘There is a girl who had an accident: Natasha, Natasha Chuma.’ It was kind of difficult to put what he wanted in words. ‘Do you have an idea the ward she is admitted into?’

  ‘Let me try to put you through.’

  He waited and heard the click of the phone at the other end.

  ‘Hello, ’came another female voice.

  He asked, ‘Is Natasha Chuma there? She was taken yesterday after a car crash.’

  There was no immediate response. Then there was a response. ‘She did the most appalling thing as can be imagined. You know she escaped from the wards on crutches, in full hospital attire. I wonder what she was carrying in her car. Drugs?’

  ‘Now, won’t you wait and listen? She was kind of shaken with the whole thing. The insurance claims, the police. All this barely a fortnight after she had had a clinical abortion! She couldn’t just stand it, see? She needs help. It’s unfortunate I wasn’t there for her.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘The husband.’

  He said it bravely. He had expected this anyway.

  ‘I see,’ the voice on the phone said.

  ‘I don’t know. She was bandaged. How did this affect the work of the doctors?’

  ‘Hold on.’ He heard another click of the phone. It was silent in the background. The woman returned to the phone.

  ‘Well,’ Sipeyiye could hear the shifting of papers. ‘The doctors had taken an x -ray. She had no broken bones. The bandages were to be changed daily though’

  ‘I’ll bring her tomorrow then. I’m sorry she did this. Can I’ve your name then, so that we’ll come direct to you? It’s somehow very …,’ he broke off, ‘very embarrassing.’

  ‘Sorry, I dismiss at six. But all the same, I can tell your story to a nurse friend of mine. Thank you very much for phoning’

  Sipeyiye raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you say thank you?’ he asked.

  ‘You heard me right.’

  ‘I thought I’m the one who was supposed to say that.’

  ‘You don’t understand. We women need people who take care of things. I mean the weighty stuff. It’s bad you weren’t there.’

  Sipeyiye would have wanted her to say that again. He held back though when he realized that he could be taking it a little too far. He hung up.

  He swung from the bed. In the bathroom, he washed his head and combed it. He smeared Vaseline over his face. He put on a Chinese style suit.

  He felt good enough to travel. It was still dark outside. Dew dubbed the pavements. It was perhaps too early, but who cared. He drove off in the jaguar.

  There was a knock at the door. Although she was wide awake, she thought she might have imagined the sound. But the knock came again, less gently this time and in rapid succession.

  The police! Nerves screamed. Chasing her around like she was a criminal. They probably thought she was running away from something by now. She reached for her crutches and wobbled to the door. The pain was much sharper immediately after resting.

  She turned the key and swung the door open in a show of rage.

  It was not the police, but Sipeyiye!

  She held her breath, which was sure to betray her. ‘Come in,’ she said, ‘you nearly frightened me to death. I thought it was the police. You know how much damage they can do to a human being.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he returned.

  ‘Well, come in,’ she said as she waved him in.

  He stepped in. He was dressed in his traditional Chinese suit. He stood over the couch, straightening it, obviously waiting to be invited to sit down.

  ‘You can sit down.’

  She was immediately embarrassed with the state of the house. She just hoped he understood that she had never had time to work on it.

  She wondered what she should do with him. In the good old days, she would have told him to clear it up and talk like a gentleman.

  ‘You were still asleep?’ He asked without too much confidence.

  ‘I was still asleep, yes. But don’t bother about it.’

  ‘I will, but I was just wondering.’

  He trailed off.

  ‘Can we possibly go to the Sanity Home this morning? That boy, God knows is mine.’

  His words did not immediately register. He had caught her off guard. She had not thought he would come round so soon.

  But she liked the way he was handling things. There wasn’t that embarrassing ritual of apologies and other niceties.

  ‘The Sanity won’t be open until maybe eight.’

  ‘Maybe you can sleep for the meantime. I‘ll be here.’

  ‘This is a ghostly hour,’ she said, amused. ‘But don’t you worry, I need to bath. And I’ll do it very, very slowly to waste time.’

  And then he laughed.

  Chapter 60

  They drove through the gate at eight. Father Kennedy had just entered his office. Natasha had told a difficult story before, but this was even worse.

  She would remain in control. Sipeyiye would speak only when he was spoken to. Sipeyiye nodded. And she wasn’t to be fooled that he has changed. He was rude and he could become aggressive at the slightest provocation.

  ‘Morning Father,’ she said humbly as they both sat down.

  Father Kennedy murmured a response. His attention was attracted by Sipeyiye who sat dozing next to Natasha. Sipeyiye said his greetings too.

  ‘He is Sipeyiye.’ She wondered if she should say ‘Sipeyiye Mohyi’, but decided that could cause unnecessary commotion rather too early in the encounter. First things first! It was probably better if she explained why he was here.

  ‘What’s he? A lawyer?’

  ‘No Father. Editor of the Truth.’

  ‘He’s worse,’ screamed the father, pointing a finger. He nearly jumped out of his seat.

  She plunged into the heart of the matter.

  ‘What happened is: I had a rough idea he had a child born in circumstances that match those described here.’ She waved the papers in air. ‘When you talked about the boy’s surname being Mohyi, I was somehow put into a dilemma. That’s why I couldn’t complete the form yesterday. I’ve confirmed the details and they fit.’

  ‘So this brother here is Mr Mohyi,’ Natasha said triumphantly.

  ‘What? Are you saying what I think you are saying?’ said Father Kennedy as he sat back in his chair.

  Natasha started explaining again. She said it all, except details that might be offending to Sipeyiye. She told him how she had met Manata. She told him how Sipeyiye had told her about the child. She spoke about the accident and about the newspaper article that had led to her coming here.

  It was a long journey telling the story. And it
wasn’t pleasant either. It brought hurtful memories to the surface once again.

  ‘Mmm,’ gasped the old priest after she had finished. ‘In fact, I’ve already decided to give you the boy. I was so deeply touched that I was going to hand him over to you straight away. But nothing had prepared me for this.’ He clasped his hands together and leaned forward with his elbows against the edge of the desk.

  ‘Mr Mohyi, why did you leave this woman?’

  ‘I didn’t exactly leave her. I was hoping to get back to her again. Only then I couldn’t give her anything. I had to find some means to make a living. I had not been prepared for the pregnancy.’

  Natasha gave a sigh of relief. It was looking promising.

  ‘You can’t say you had not prepared for the pregnancy. Are you blind? Couldn’t you figure out what, what you were doing would lead to? You should pray over this. You should ask for God’s forgiveness,’ Father Kennedy said with some emotion.

  ‘Yes, Father,’ Sipeyiye said contritely.

  ‘Now are you sure this child is yours?’

  Natasha thought this question should have come before. Now it only amused her.

  ‘We can go for tests,’ suggested Sipeyiye. ‘I don’t think it’s necessary, though. The facts fit like a jigsaw.’

  ‘But I still wonder what sort of person you are.’

  There was a moment of silence in the room. The old priest rose to his feet and went to his files again. He brought out one of them. As he had done the day before, he extracted some sheets of paper from it. Natasha looked at them. They said nothing about the history of the case. There was just the name and address!

  ‘You see, one of our basic aims is to reunite these children with their families. I’ve to admit though, this has happened in the most unusual way. Look, God works through miracles.’

  He waved his arms in the air with obvious excitement and there was vibrant glee in his eyes. Another case solved!

  ‘You’ll see the boy,’ he said, much to Natasha’s surprise. He fumbled at the phone at the end of the table.

  ’Yes Sister,’ he said into the mouthpiece. ‘Can we have the boy I talked to yesterday?’

  He cradled back the phone.

  Natasha’s heart beat the faster. She squinted at Sipeyiye. Her guess was that his mind was, at this point in time, a little hyperactive to put it mildly. His gaze was fixed upon the floor. With his hands he clasped the arms of his chair as if his very life depended on it.

  ‘I want your addresses.’ The father brushed the top of his table meticulously with his bare hands. ‘I’ll come to your place sometime to see if the child is coping well. You wouldn’t mind talking about it to an old man over a glass of wine, would you?’ he said with a warm smile at Sipeyiye.

  ‘That will be fine, Father,’ Natasha replied readily.

  ‘When?’

  It was Sipeyiye who answered this time.

  ‘Soon,’ he said.

  ‘And I will be only too eager to be there.’

  Then the door opened. And Sister Barbara walked in with Manata.

  Chapter 61

  Manata was as handsome as ever. He took a seat nervously and kept his eyes fixed upon the space straight ahead of him.

  He was ever so quiet.

  ‘I went to your school and they told me all sorts of stories on earth. Why did you leave school?’

  ‘We were sweeping the class, Mom, but the boy next to me was leaving a big portion between us for me to sweep. I did the same because it was not fair. The teacher hit me on the head with a stick.’ He pointed at himself.

  ‘And then you decided to leave school?’ she asked.

  ‘I felt as if my head had been cracked open. When he tried to hit me again on the head,’ he whispered, ‘I knocked him down.’

  ‘But, Manata my son, you should have come home. You gave me some awful hard times looking for you.’

  There was no trace of sorrow in her voice. She was just so happy and relieved to see him again and to know that he was all right. She wanted to hold him in her arms and protect him and tell him it was all right.

  ‘So what happened next?’

  ‘I went into town. I was hoping to find my aunt. I couldn’t find her at the bar. Neither could I find her at home. I’ve no idea where she went.’

  Sipeyiye’s gaze swept over her, then at Manata. He shifted it back to the road. She searched for the fear in Manata’s eyes. It was gone, now that he knew that Sipeyiye wasn’t a monster, that he was his father.

  ‘So what did you do after that?’ Natasha queried.

  ‘I stayed on the streets. I’ve few friends whom I knew.’

  ‘But I tried to look for you. I couldn’t find you.’

  ‘I was still afraid of being seen and I stayed hidden. I didn’t want to be seen.’

  ‘That was so unkind of you,’ she said playfully. That was behind them now.

  Natasha was thinking that the bad times were behind them now. She had found him. They had found him!

  The drive from Sanity Home was beautiful. Approaching the city was like some kind of homecoming. Tall buildings glittered ahead in the morning sun. Alongside the road, short dry turf prevailed. When the rains came the turf became vividly green and alive. In the luxurious homes adjacent to the road the large patches of lawn and the flowers distinguished the upmarket homes. The density of cars on the road increased as they approached the city.

  ‘We’ll go to the hospital.’ Sipeyiye announced, from nowhere.

  She looked at the bandage on her shoulder and the other two beneath her clothing. When she left the hospital, she had hoped to see a private doctor. Here she was, and she hadn’t done anything.

  ‘Let’s go to a private doctor,’ she declared.

  ‘No, it’s ok. I talked to a certain nurse in the morning. She says it’s only the bandages that should be changed.’

  Sipeyiye’s grin was wide and sincere.

  ‘You said you talked to the nurse?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I explained your situation, that it was inevitable and that you’ll turn up at noon.’

  She had forgotten how thorough and efficient Sipeyiye could be.

  ‘It was nice of you,’ she told him and as she did so she looked him right in the eye.

  The pain and disappointment she had felt the previous day when she thought he was abandoning her again had fast receded into the distance. He was here now and to stay too! They stopped at a red robot on Thirteenth Avenue. When the robot was green they passed on and Sipeyiye accelerated towards the hospital. Despite her new-found happiness and equilibrium there was a nagging worry at the back of her mind - about the police.

  ‘I’m a bit worried about the police,’ she confessed.

  ‘What about them?’ he asked.

  ‘I thought maybe I should go and see them and try and make my story clear before going back to the hospital. I need a report for the insurance claims.’

  ‘But I thought your health is our priority here.’ He glanced at the bandage on her arm

  ‘You know these bandages should have been changed yesterday. I dropped a message though that you will turn up at the police station at dusk. Let’s hope then that we’ll be through with this soon.’

  They slowed as they approached the hospital. They swung into the hospital lane and drove slowly into the parking lot.

  Natasha was admitted into hospital again. Her injuries were deep and needed proper attention.

  Sipeyiye phoned the police to say that Natasha could no longer turn up. The superintendent on duty came to her hospital ward. His friendly manner eased her worries about the police. That the man was a little shy in his demeanour even endeared him somewhat to Natasha. She was going to be all right after all. It was good to know that. Later she got to know that he was anxious to keep a certain escapade of his away from the glare of the newspapers. Sipeyiye had something to do with the superintendent’s deportment. She experienced firsthand how power can be wielded by those who have
it. Sipeyiye, editor of The Truth, became a good acquaintance of his.

  Sipeyiye and Manata stayed with her the whole day. They waited outside while her injuries were dressed. They saw her to her room and left at dusk. Natasha thought that was a blessing in disguise. Manata and Sipeyiye needed time alone.

  Loneliness and boredom in the wards: a thing of the past. Natasha safely buried herself in newspapers and magazines, and drifted easily to sleep.

  Manata came in new attire the following day. Properly fitted-out, he looked quite dazzling, almost beautiful! He had worked flat out through the night to come up with a colourful card. The message:

  We’ve put roses beside your bed

  But of course, they’ll wither if you

  Stay longer

  There is a cup of coffee beside your bed

  But of course you didn’t take it

  I left a chocolate beside your bed

  And it’s waiting for you

  Because you weren’t there

  Yesterday

  The birds are all singing in the garden

  But of course you’re not here

  To hear them call your name

  Yesterday was so long

  Because we waited for you

  For an eternal night

  In which your face was so distant

  Of course, we know you’re pretending

  Of course nothing will keep you there forever

  When you think of your chocolate

  And your dear son Manata

  You’ll leave that bed so fast

  And come running home fast

  This wasn’t a hand over gift from a shopping spree. It was the result of his talent and labour, and a message that came from the heart. The editor of the Truth called it a splendid show of talent, and bet that one day it would be the lyrics to a mammoth hit song. It was the greatest of the gifts Natasha had received in years.

  In the days that followed, Manata would come once a day, in the morning. Sipeyiye would come twice, including the evening visit. They would talk. And she would giggle as he told her story after story. The good times had begun to roll again. And when he came to the finer bits, she would be downright laughing. Afterwards, she would complain that her stomach ached and that Sipeyiye was the cause of it all.

  ‘Don’t laugh, just listen,’ he would say.

  He stayed past midnight some days. Sometimes he was there till dawn. On some days he shared her hospital bed with her. No nurse came to Natasha’s room and even if one had done so he would somehow probably have wiggled out of the situation. Everybody loves a good romance story. That was what he said.