CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
No!
Through the wave of the golden sunlight, I watch a small brown bird fly to its nest on a branch of the big tree I was seated. Her chicks lifted their heads and chirped loudly the moment they saw her. Slowly, this mother bird placed a worm into a chick’s mouth before she flew away again. And a few minutes later, the mother bird came back with a really large insect trapped in her beak for her hungry babies.
I watched as she tirelessly fed each chick one after the other. Even a bird knows she is supposed to take care of her babies while I killed my own baby. I murdered my baby, she depended on me but I killed her
I had a baby.
A daughter.
I was going to show her the world,
Raise her to be a strong woman.
But she died.
All that blood…
She must have suffered.
My poor baby.
I failed her.
Where did I go wrong?
I never should have gone through the back door….
“BEWAJI!” My attention was called back into the backyard that looked like something from a lifestyle magazine. I was seated at the far end of a long wooden table beneath the shade of a large tree. Strings of decorative lights hung overhead despite the afternoon sun. Platters of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, jollof rice, and fresh fruit covered the table.
“Yeah!” I looked around absentmindedly, not knowing who called me.
“You are playing with your food, you don’t like it?” Marcus asked me softly.
“Of course, I do.” I quickly picked some vegetables with the fork and put it in my mouth. I gazed at him and saw he looked unconvinced, but he let it go. The lunch had been Marcus's idea. A distraction, he called it, a chance to get out of the house, a chance to be around people, a chance to remember that life still existed.
But I am not convinced. Not with Joy’s twin boys chasing each other on Marcus’s field or with Fatima’s seven-year-old girl blowing soap bubbles. All the outings I have had with these people, children are never allowed. All of a sudden, our outings are now PG 01. No, this is not a chance to mingle or to have fun with friends. It was sabotage, a chance to heal me. In his kind heart, he probably thought seeing these children would automatically make me nostalgic to see mine.
I sighed in agony as I averted my attention from the children back to my surroundings. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves overhead, dappling the tablecloth with shifting patterns of light. The backyard smelled of grilled meat and freshly cut grass. Everywhere looked pleasant and it should feel pleasant but I am just exhausted.
I don’t want to be here.
“So, how are you holding up?” Fatima asked me in a soft voice and suddenly forks paused, eyes shifted. Not openly staring but watching and waiting for an answer. I looked at Fatima and I know the question was not from a place of cruelty but kindness. I also know, deep down, she only wants one answer.
“I am okay,” I replied and, looking into her eyes, I know she does not believe me and like Marcus, she let it go and turned back to her food.
“If you are okay, when are you leaving?” Joy questioned with indifference.
“Joy!” Marcus cautioned sternly.
“What!” she retorted. “A child needs her mother.” I love Joy. She never pretends. Leave it to her to ask questions everybody wants to ask but can’t summon the courage to. A soft giggle filled the air, cutting through the tension at the table. My attention was drawn to Fatima’s eight-month-old baby on her husband Abdul’s lap. Their older daughter blows bubbles into her sister’s face, and in an effort to catch these bubbles, the baby rewarded her sister with soft chuckles. I looked away as my chest hurt at the scene.
I don’t want to be here.
These are ordinary moments, beautiful ones that I should relate to but they are pulling my heart out of my chest. I watch this baby giggle loudly and something cracked further inside of me. Not loudly but enough to destroy me, enough to remind me of the future I killed with my very own hand. Abdul transferred her to her mother and this baby beamed brightly when she got to her mother.
This is nothing I would ever get to see.
I would never get to see her smile or laugh or blow bubbles or run around the field chasing her friends.
I killed that future.
My vision blurred and I looked away to rein myself in. I am not allowed to cry. Those are for victims and I am the murderer not the victim.
“Hey, you okay?” Marcus asked. Of course, he noticed, he always does. I nodded, scared that opening my mouth would expose me. I reached for the glass of wine next to my plate with my trembling hands, hoping to get Marcus’s attention off me but accidentally spilled the wine on myself.
“Bewa!” A frantic Marcus called me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He stood up with me to help me get the wine off me.
“Marcus! I am okay,” I blurted. His shoulders slumped and I felt bad immediately. He was just trying to help but it felt suffocating. “I am sorry,” I said and went to the bathroom.
Forty minutes later, I was still seated on the bathroom floor with no desire to go back out. Marcus has the best intentions but I don’t deserve it.
“Madame Bewa!” A voice I recognized as Clement, Marcus’s chef, called me.
“Yes,” I answered wondering what he needed. I have been at Marcus’s for a while and none of his staff approach me.
“Monsieur Marcus said to call you,” he informed me.
Damn it!
I really don’t want to go back out. With no other choice, I left the bathroom and walked into my room.
“Alright, I will be here but I just need to change,” I told the man.
“Alright.” He replied from the other side of the bedroom door and left.
About fifteen minutes later, I went back to the backyard and I was looking into Alice’s exhausted eyes. My stomach dropped so violently and it felt as though the ground beneath me had vanished, then everything inside me froze.
She found me.
Alice found me.
Panic surged through my body as it became difficult to breathe. Alice walked toward me slowly as the conversation that was going on began dying one by one. My pulse thundered in my ear.
“What the actual fuck, Bewaji!” Alice yelled. “I have looked everywhere for you. What the fuck were you thinking, running away and not contacting your family for over nine days?”
She looked different.
The polished, composed, efficient assistant who always seemed to have everyone under control was gone. This is not the pompous Alice that welcomed me from the airport and made life so difficult for me last two years. This one looked so tired, dark shadows lingered under her eyes, her shoulders were sagging with exhaustion.
She was also angry.
Very angry.
“I fucking went to the morgue,” she rambled on. “What made you think it was okay for you to vanish without a single explanation?”
“Hey, you…” Marcus tried to cut in but Alice was not having it.
“Don’t you dare interrupt,” she replied harshly. “I am still coming to you because I don’t know why you think it is okay for you to harbor another man’s wife.” Then she turned back to me. “I know what happened was terrible, you have no right to just disappear. Nobody knew where you were, if you were safe or de….” She broke off. “Meanwhile, you sit here having lunch like nothing happened. Do you even have an idea what you have done to your family?”
My chest tightened and not because of accusation but because I am still going to make her life harder.
“Do you?” she probed harder but I gave her no response. She sighed deeply and shook her head. “It does not even matter. Let’s go.”
Here it comes.
She walked a few steps from me and turned back to me when she didn’t hear me move.
“Come on, Bewaji!”
“No,” I whispered.
“What?”
“NO!” I said louder this time. “I am not going back with you.”
“What are you talking about, Bewaji?” Joy shouted at me with a glare. “I understand you are depressed but your baby needs you. That baby should be your priority.”
“What baby?” Alice questioned in confusion.
“Her baby, of course,” Joy replied confidently. Alice looked at me with her furrowed eyes as she gasped, finally understanding the situation.
“You didn’t tell them?” she questioned in a hard voice. My breathing became shallow, rapid, and my hands trembled uncontrollably as my secret was about to be exposed.
“Tell us what?” Joy questioned as the situation started to change.
“Don’t, Alice,” I warned.
“So, you have been hiding, is that why you ran?”
“Can someone tell us what the fuck is actually happening?” Joy bellowed with impatience, her eyes moving from one face to another.
“Please, just leave, Alice,” I begged again, my voice trembling this time.
“You think hiding is going to fix anything? You think hiding is going to make you forget your daughter died?” she roared.
“What?” Fatima exclaimed sharply, rising to her feet with her baby clutched tightly against her chest. Her face drained of color as she stared at me in disbelief.
“Alice, you need to leave,” I asked her again.
“No, they need to know that you lost your baby. They need to know you almost lost your life, and it took removing your womb for you to live.”
“Seriously!” Joy gasped when she heard this news, one hand flying to her mouth as the weight of the words settled heavily in the room. Abdul and David both stood up, their expressions filled with shock and pity. Marcus stood frozen with his jaw tightened, and for the first time since Alice arrived, he looked completely speechless.
“Is that true, Bewaji?” he asked. I looked at him with tears blurring my vision.
“Yes, it is true, and she is not supposed to be holed up in this place. She needs help,” Alice answered before I could speak.
“Shut up, Alice!” I hollered suddenly.
“Shut up! Fucking shut up!” The group flinched at the force of my voice. Fatima instinctively held her baby closer to her chest, while Abdul looked away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. David’s expression darkened, Joy’s jaw clenched as if she was trying hard not to explode. Only Alice stood there unfazed.
“No, I won’t,” she replied firmly. “You know why? Because I love you and I know you need to come with me to get you help.”
“Exactly the reason I am not going with you,” I yelled, my chest rising unevenly. “You call it love, I call it pity and it is smothering. I will be damned before I go back to it.” The words escaped my lips without caution.
Marcus inhaled sharply at my tone, pain flickering across his face. “Bewa…” he murmured, taking a cautious step toward me, but I moved away before he could reach me.
Concern flooded Alice’s features and she moved toward me. “Bewaji, please….”
“No! I am not going back to the endless condolences…” I slowly backed away from the table.
One step
“The countless questions, are you okay? How are you holding up?”
Another step
“The pitying looks, like I’m some fragile thing that will shatter the moment someone touches me…” My voice cracked as tears blurred my vision. “I’m sick of it.”
I took another step, tears blurring my vision.
“It is suffocating,” I whispered brokenly. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
With that, I turned and walked into the house, my unsteady footsteps echoing behind me while no one dared to follow.
TO BE CONTINUED ON NEXT SATURDAY, 9.00PM WAT.
0 Comments