He heard ringing. Rousing, Jonah lay on his back, groaning as he felt the nightstand for his phone with his eyes closed.
"Did I wake you?" His mother, Francine, asked. " I'm truly sorry. I keep forgetting the time difference."
Jonah pegged his nose bridge briefly with his fingers. "Are you okay, mom?" He said, voice groggy from sleep. "Did something happen?" He knew the woman well enough to see through the flimsy excuse: something was bothering her.
"I had a bad dream."
"Really? Tell me about it." He wasn't the least bit interested but she'd tell him anyway.
" You were dressed in black, all alone and weeping."
"It's just a dream." Jonah reassured. Ever since his mother became a Christian, she'd some times have dreams she believed to be premonitions- none of which ever proved true.
" I know you think I'm talking nonsense, but of all the dreams I've had, this felt the most real. You were in so much pain. Since I've known you, you've never cried like that over anything."
"I'll be careful." He heard her sigh.
"I'd feel better if you prayed about it." When Jonah didn't respond, she sighed again. " You don't believe so there's no point. But I'll keep praying for you."
"I appreciate it,"
"No,you don't," she accused." You think I'm wasting my time. But I'll keep doing what I have to do to protect you. I'm not sorry if you feel I'm being a bother. You'll understand one day when you become a parent yourself."
"Till then."
"You know I wouldn't worry so much if you were married."
"We both know you'll worry either way."
The woman laughed softly. " You can't blame me. A mother will always worry about her child."
"No one is blaming you." Jonah stated. While he was an only child, the ordeal of many year ago had only served to excercabate her already cloying motherly affection.
"What am I going to tell Katrina?" Francine said, referring to his now ex girlfriend. "You didn't do right by her, breaking that poor woman's heart."
Katrina Brown had been his girlfriend since his high school days and had been involved in his life much later after he'd recuperated from a major surgery that should have killed him. They'd been classmates, seatmates, lab partners and eventually couples.
Everyone in class had had a crush on her and why not? She was beautiful, talented and intelligent. If he was being honest, he'd agreed to date her to spite the others at first. But the girl had been fascinated with him, more so after she'd learnt of what had happened to him: he'd suffered from memory loss and had had problems concentrating for quite sometime. The doctors had told his mother that the memories may be recovered but couldn't give their assurances, and they hoped that his concentration problem would improve with time. His concentration did get better, his memories, however, remained in shambles.
Katrina had helped him adjust, helped him cope, and overtime, his feelings for her grew. Things had been all rosey for a while, until he started having series of memory jolts, particularly involving a girl, and Katrina, at the time, had accused him of insensitivity and self-absorption: he'd forget her birthday, forget her favorite restaurant. Jonah had gone to the doctors, who had been uncertain how long the new development would last, despite him being on medications and therapy at the time. So they had argued and broken up several times.
Right before they'd gone their separate ways to study, they'd made up but it hadn't t taken long before the girl in his head intruded and he decided he needed that part of his life sorted out if he was to move on and be involved with anyone.( He couldn't rely on his mother's explanations alone).He remembered the message he'd left her, telling her to find someone else.
"It's not too late," Francine said. " You can come back now. Leave this family alone. You've done enough."
"I can't. I have to see this through. As for Katrina, you promised not to tell her my whereabouts. Keep that promise."
"You've always been selfish."
Jonah didn't deny it. That was an incorrigible part of him. " I need to go, mom. Try and get some sleep. I'll call you during the day." Ending the call, he checked the time and replaced the phone. 2:00am.
Exhaling deeply, he lay supine, putting an arm across his forehead, his eyes closed. For a long time, sleep eluded him
When morning came, he got ready for an early run. As he walked towards the living room, he donned on a shirt. Everything was cleaned in preparation for his arrival, so Jonah wasn't surprised to see that even the pictures on the walls were dust free.
He studied one picture, wondering if his mother's smile was ever genuine. According to her, as the tumor progressed, his personality had also changed, the seizures worsened and life became much more difficult because she lived with the foreboding of losing her son before his imminent death. If he remembered correctly, it was about that time she'd converted.
Jonah heard footsteps. He turned to see a woman enter the living room. Startled by the sight of him, she gasped, placing a hand on her chest then composed herself, hands primly in front of her.
"Good morning, sir."
"Morning," Jonah answered, a bit surprised to find someone in his house other than himself. By her uniform, he guessed that she was the maid.
"I'm Nancy Etisoro, your house maid. I resumed work last week." She was a brown skinned woman who looked to be in her forties.
Mr Menor must have hired her, he thought. He'd made plans to handpick his maid when he arrived but the man had taken the initiative." You cleaned the place, madam Nancy? Can I call you Nancy? The other name is a bit difficult on the tongue."
Nancy smiled. "Yes, sir. Nancy is fine. And I did clean the place."
"It's nicely done." Jonah remarked. "Thank you."
She simpered. " Thank you, sir."
Jonah noticed from the corner of an eye that Nancy was staring at him with overt fascination and averted her gaze when he looked her way. He smiled.
" I'm going out for a run. I'll be back in less than an hour." Jonah told Nancy as he walked past her.
"Okay, sir. But what would you like for breakfast?"
"Don't bother about that. I cook my meals. I'll get you a list of the things I need when I get back."
Nancy stared after him, a bemused expression on her face.
The morning was dewy and a bit cold- the perfect atmosphere to work up a sweat. As he jogged down with his headphone on, he found it hard to believe that these streets were ever familiar to him. People glanced at him and whispered to one another, most having the same expression as Nancy, the maid, did. It wasn't uncommon around here for his presence to elicit such reactions, he soon discovered people in this part of the world were indeed in awe of foreigners.
Jonah waved to an elderly man who was also jogging but in the opposite direction. He waved back, revealing missing teeth. Returning, he saw a woman holding hands with her child, on their way to school.
"Mommy, look." The little girl pointed at him. "Oyinbo."
"Don't point!" Her mother scolded, smacking the finger down.
Jonah walked towards them He greeted the mother then squatted in front of the child.
"Say, 'good morning, uncle' " The woman told her child, and the little girl repeated shyly.
"Good morning," Jonah said, grinning. " What's your name?"
She looked to her mother for permission and the woman nodded. "Ese."
Jonah wasn't sure if it was the 'essay' he knew. He was well aware of the cultural and tribal diversity in the country. " Can you spell it for me?" When she did, he held out his hand for a high five, and she clapped it, beaming." Good job."
"I have no idea if she got it right." Jonah said to the mother, standing. The woman looked like she was having difficulty understanding him. Sometimes his accent got in the way. " She's a smart child," he said instead.
The mother smiled proudly.
"That word she said, what does it mean?" He asked her.
"Oyinbo? It's usually used to refer to a white person."
Was it offensive? He could tell by the child's interaction and the woman's warm smile that it wasn't. The people of the country were one of the most hospitable to foreigners, more prone to help than abuse with derogatory terms. Squatting down again, he encouraged the little girl -Ese- to be good at school. She did something so uncharacteristic, chucking his nose, which she said was pointy, laughing as she did so.
While her mother apologized for her daughter's manners, Jonah experienced a memory jolt, the first since he came: another little girl who also loved his nose and touched it whenever she could.
His head was still aching when he returned to the house. Mr Menor was waiting for him in the living room. They exchanged greetings, and the older man observed him closely.
"Are you all right, sir?"
"I'm fine," Jonah said, rubbing his temples, " Just a little headache."
The older man seemed unconvinced, and Jonah remembered that he had been with the family through their trying times and was inclined to suspicions.
"It's nothing to worry about. I'm fine, truly." Jonah reassured. He was sure he had his mother on speed dial. " So madam Nancy..."
"You don't sound pleased. Is she not to your liking?"
"That's not it. I'd like to be given a little warning next time someone I don't know comes into my house."
"I apologize, sir. It's just that you were so tired yesterday , I thought I'd wait until morning. But you'd already left when I got here." Mr Menor said. " I can vouch for her character. She's not a thief either, I can assure you."
"I'll take your word for it," Jonah said. The man had years of credibility behind him." What about the other employees?"
"All ready to begin work as soon as you order it, sir."
"Thank you." Jonah started to leave, heading for the shower.
"Sir?"
He stopped at the doorway.
"Mrs Nancy told me you didn't want her cooking your meals."
"I don't,"
"If I may ask, any particular reason?"
"I can cook," Jonah answered, leaving Mr Menor just as bemused as Mrs Nancy had been.
******
" That looks so good," Nadeem remarked, studying his daughter's latest art: a village scene. "You think you could draw me next? I'll put it in my office and brag about it."
Huma smiled, knowing her father wasn't the bragging type. But he had always supported her art. These days, when he wasn't working, he'd come watch her draw in silence; they often talked-- he talked, she listened--but never for too long because work eventually interrupted.
Nadeem went to sit on her bed. She could hear him settle in.
"How's Uche? Have you spoken with her recently? I've been trying her number for some days now but it's not been going through."
At the mention of her friend's name, Huma stilled. Friend? She wasn't so sure now--not after plotting behind her back. She'd been a fool to think that she could outsmart the woman. But Allah help her, she was worried, but every time she picked up the phone to call Uche she'd lose her nerve half way.
It's been weeks since she moved out, weeks since she'd admitted - caught, rather- plotting with Lawrence, the supposed hotel resort caretaker, to get through to her former roommate for their protection, a problem she had caused.
"Did you make trouble for that woman, daughter of mine?"
Turning in her donkey chair, Huma struggled to meet her father's gaze.
Nadeem nodded, certain he was right. His daughter had been glum since she returned. "I'm sure you both will resolve whatever it is. Friends fight all the time and when they make up, the bond becomes stronger. And maybe that trip will help."
Huma met his gaze then, her face brightening.
" Yes, your mother finally agreed."
She started to rejoice.
"Don't forget to thank her. It's the least you can do."
Her joy sputtered and died at the thought of confronting her mother, dread knotting her stomach. Besides, she found it suspicious that the woman had suddenly granted her permission. What was the catch?
She's doing it again. Smiling, Nadeem watched the cogwheels in his daughter's head turn-old habits die hard. She suspected something, as she should. "All you have to do is ensure that Uche will be there. If you want, I could ask her for you."
Eyes wide, Huma shook her head vehemently. She'd do it herself. Nadeem chuckled, standing up. He went to squeeze one of her shoulders affectionately. Her hand touching his, they exchanged warm smiles, comforting each other.
"Did you ever finish it?" Nadeem suddenly asked. Perplexed, Huma looked up at him and saw that he was staring at a drawing board at the far corner covered with a cloth. She nodded. "I remember how obsessed you were when you first started. You were on it for hours." He paused. " Don't let it stay here gathering dust."
When he left,Huma dropped her pencil and flung herself on her bed, snuggling into Cody the bear.
I miss her
Just like she did every other day, she wondered if Uche was in good health. Had she injured herself somehow? Was she sleeping and eating properly? Was she still angry at her?
Her eyes fell on her phone. She could always ask, even though a response wasn't probable. But she was as cowardly as ever. Nothing had changed.
Author's note
Hey guys! And we've started. Thanks for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated.