Adam's POV
Emily was smiling. Suddenly she looked really serious. "There was a girl behind you Bro."
"Really Emily?" I feigned ignorance.
"Come on Bro, she was running after you. Do you know her?" She was staring intensely at me now like the answers were on my face.
"Nope, she just mistook me for someone else", I shrugged.
I was glad she didn't insist on it.
"Welcome to Nigeria little Sis-- I'm sure you will enjoy your stay here."
"Okay. Whatever Bro."
I quickly took her bags and carried them to where I parked my car. We drove to my apartment in my red Toyota Camry.
It was a two-bedroom apartment with a veranda. I also had a small library. I lived on the top floor. It gave me a great view of the ocean, the Third Mainland Bridge.
Immediately after we arrived at my house, she looked at me quizzically, "Adam, why do you live here? She's beautiful okay but you can afford much better."
"Little Sis, I love this view and it's good enough for me. I don't want anything flashy. A simple life is a peaceful life. Okay?"
"Sure, whatever you say Adam." I couldn't tell if there was a bit of sarcasm in her comment.
"I prefer you call me Bro. It sounds better just like earlier and accords me some respect young lady."
I maintained a stern look and placed my hands on my waist so I would look serious.
"Fine, Bro." She paused and she looked at me clearly, "It feels odd. I can't believe I'm seeing you in person again after seven years. I wish you didn't leave us. You know our house in New York City is really big—We don't live in the ghetto side. Our interior is wonderful and I'm sure you would have loved it."
She kept bragging about their house in New York. I frowned at this. I didn't want anything to do with my dad and my step-mom.
It still amazes me how Emily and I share such a close bond, especially as we are step-siblings. The circumstances which led to all these were odd.
Anytime I think about it, I feel like I'm trapped in a box. Everywhere is dark. Then I'm cast away and left with little oxygen awaiting my end.
This kind girl crept into my heart with such a simple gesture. She wiped my face with her towel at a time I was broken and vulnerable. I always thought a bad tree would always bear bad fruits, but Emily was an exception.
"Hey, Bro, I'm really hungry. You've been staring so intensely at the ceiling. You alright?", she inquired.
"I'm fine. What do you want to eat? Wait let me guess. Would you like some pasta?"
"Nope. Seriously Bro I hate pasta. Have you forgotten so soon? We have talked about my likes and dislikes and I told you my favourite food." She narrowed her lips to a pout and let out a deep sigh.
"I'm not going to tell you anything. Come on, think. You have twenty seconds to remember. Start." Her pout changed rapidly into a huge grin and she began to drum on my mini-sized black table.
"Come on bro, I'm counting", she squealed in excitement.
"Seriously, are we doing this? You are such a child and-"
"That's why you love me Bro", she quickly added, then she gave me her cutest smile.
"Ten more seconds", she immediately yelled.
"Hey that's cheating, I thought we were having a moment."
"Eight seconds left", she blurted out. She was enjoying this.
Okay, think Adam, you know this. The first time I talked to her through Skype, she was eating three slices of pizza at a go. Being her nine-year-old self, she was twirling around.
She eventually stopped and started telling me how much she loved pepperoni pizza. She said she wouldn't mind having pizza for all meals. I could see the whole content in her mouth while she kept thanking immensely whoever invented pizza. From there we talked about other things she liked. Also, from time to time during our calls, she mentioned her dislikes. She also told me about her day. I barely talked. She did most of the talking but her call always brightened my day.
"3...2-"
"Wait I know", I quickly announced.
"I'm listening, go on Bro but to make this interesting—if you get it wrong I'm not gonna do the dishes throughout my stay here and-"
"If I get it right, you'll also add doing my laundry to your chores", I cut in.
"Come on Bro, that'll be too much. I don't like doing laundry and you know that.."
She frowned and rolled her eyes.
"I know that, that's the point", I said smirking.
"Fine but I'll do your laundry only once a month".
She was trying to negotiate but alright. I'll agree with her.
She doesn't know I'll intentionally not do my laundry and let it pile up for her. This plan was foolproof.
"Deal. Now your favourite food is...Pepperoni pizza", I said slowly to create a dramatic effect.
Her look was priceless. Her smile dropped and she whined.
"You were supposed to get it wrong. You always forgot when I asked you but today you remember. I'm not keeping my end of the deal." She folded her hands and frowned.
She was something but I didn't insist on it. I'll still make her do it later.
"Alright, Go freshen up. I'll order pizza."
She nods quickly then she looks perplexed.
It takes me some time then I understand what she's probably thinking about.
"The room at your left is yours. It has a bathtub, you'll be staying there."
"Okay, thanks Bro. I promise you won't regret having me over. We will have so much fun", she beamed.
I shrugged and began to order the pizza while she went to her room. Two chairman pepperoni pizza from Domino's pizza, in case she has a large appetite. I was glad they closed late on Fridays.
I switched on my flat-screen Sony television. I wasn't watching it but I needed a distraction. It wasn't helping though.
All of a sudden, one of my worst memory played back in my mind. My last moments with my mom.
She was diagnosed with Bronchiectasis late. She had been coughing severely for months then. She had fever occasionally but she would say it was malaria and she would take antimalarial drugs. On one of the few times my dad was around, he heard me urging my mom to seek medical attention from a doctor but rather than supporting me to implore her, he scolded me that my mom can take care of herself and I should stop bickering.
After much persuasion, my mom went to the private hospital we registered in and she had a chest CT scan which she was directed to do by our Doctor, Doc. Kingsley who worked there. She hid her test results from me and told me she was alright. I had to sneak into her room and see the results myself. I quickly researched the disease and I was terrified. It was a terminal illness and she would have to live with it. I was hopeful when I saw thousands of people who have this illness still live a normal life but there were severe cases.
She was hospitalized when her condition became severe. She had been skipping her medicine and she still insisted on going to work.
I loved her fighting spirit. Even when she was bedridden, she always hid her pain from me but I could see through the facade. She would always tell me, "Son it doesn't hurt so much. Focus on your studies—I want you to get the best results for your school in Waec, okay." I promised her to do my best. I was writing my Waec exams during that period.
It took a lot for me to be strong for her. My father, as usual, was on one of his numerous business trips. He could spend Up to a month without replying to my text messages. He never answered his call himself. His secretary always told me he was occupied at the moment. I was her pillar. It was probably because of the nature of her job. I asked Doc. Kingsley what could cause the disease but he said hers was not genetically related so it was unknown. Mom worked in the paint industry. They dealt with dye, sulphur and a lot more chemicals. She was the supervisor but she always went the extra mile. At times when they were short-staffed, she would help them out. She inhaled a lot of these during her work.
I always told her I was not comfortable with her job. She would shrug and with a smug expression, she would say, "I got this." Knowing I was not convinced, she would persist to cajole me. "My prince, I take precautions. I wear gloves, a face mask sometimes, her-"
"Sometimes, seriously, mom." I would scold her and raise my eyebrows at this.
Then she would assure me that from now on she will wear a face mask all the time. She would smile and we would just embrace.
My dad was well off but he never said anything about it. He let her do such dangerous work, a forty-two-year-old woman. After much coughing and finally difficulty in breathing, she was convinced she was not alright and we discovered she had Bronchiectasis.
Despite that, she would cheer me on anytime I visited her. I complained about my difficult day while she wouldn't talk about herself.
Just when I thought she was getting better, rumours that my dad was cheating on her were leaked and they spread like fire. I don't know how but my mom found out about it. Her condition plummeted. She was not responding to the bronchodilators anymore. Her body was rejecting all treatments. Our family doctor during one of my visits talked with me.
"Your mom has barely a month. It was discovered late and she is not responding to treatment. We tried our best son." He hugged me and I fought back the tears in my eyes. I was not going to let my mom feel sad or lonely for as long as she's got left. I quickly went back to her room.
"Daniel Adam Morgan, why are you so quiet." She paused and looked at me. She only called my full name when she felt I was hiding something from her.
"Did those people finally predict how long I have left?" She smiled and started cackling, then she began to cough violently again. I was amazed by her. She treated the whole matter like it was so trivial. She wasn't scared of death or she didn't show that to me.
She sat and smiled at me. "I'm so glad I got you as my son. I wish I'll be able to see your results but-"
"Mom you will see my result", I quickly cut in. I was still hoping she would be alright. She pulled my cheeks and kissed them one by one. "Don't forget your values and go after your dreams no matter what. When you are free, read that book I showed you—it inspired me."
I listened attentively but I wanted her to stop. It felt like she was saying goodbye.
"You have to go home now, let the driver drop you off, you still have one last paper tomorrow and that is your major, Accounting. Go on, make mom proud okay. I love you so much and you are my biggest dream come true."
I hugged her so tight now, all teary-eyed. She urged me, "Go on so you can prepare well for tomorrow." I looked back at her again then I went home.
It didn't feel like home without her. Our domestic helper had prepared my meal but I didn't have the appetite. A part of me felt uneasy all through the night. I was in intense pain. I barely slept. The next day, I wrote my last paper in a rush. I had taken permission and I left school early. I wanted to see my mom.
As soon as I arrived, many of the nurses gave me pitiful looks. It was a private hospital. Dr Kingsley approached me and all he said was, "I'm sorry." What was wrong with him. He told me the previous day that my mom had a month and he was using that line with me. I laughed hysterically and before I knew it, I ran to her room. It was unoccupied. Where was my mom? Maybe she went home right? I started yelling and pushing everyone violently. No one said anything to me. Dr Kingsley became emotional too. After I had calmed down he told me that my dad had taken her body in the morning. He gave me a copy of her death certificate. With pain, I read through it and what I saw broke me. Time of death: 11 pm.
I had felt it—I was in pain throughout ten till that time. She suffered a lot. And I-
"Bro, Bro are you still there, hello?"
I came out of my thoughts and looked up to see a worried Emily.
"You zone out a lot. Someone's been knocking for ten minutes now. I initially thought it wasn't coming from here. Maybe it's the pizza delivery boy."
Her face lit up.
"Oh okay, I'll get that."
I knew I had to continue to excel. She will always be in my heart. I quickly settled the delivery boy and brought in the Pizzas. I set it on my mini-sized table.
Emily came back to my living room with a soft drink in her hand. She had uncorked it. She was holding my last bottle of coke. She looked at me with pleading eyes.
"I can have this, right?"
I shrugged, "Whatever, you can as well watch whatever you want. I'll go do some work in my room. Feel at home here."
"Okay Bro, I-" I didn't wait for her reply and I quickly slammed the door.
I knew none of this was her fault but I couldn't help thinking that, if only my step-mom never met my dad and my mom didn't hear my dad had a mistress and a nine-year-old daughter—maybe she would still be alive. Maybe she wouldn't have given up the fight.
I pushed aside these thoughts and brought out my sketchbook and pencil. Drawing helps me to relax.
I thought for a while about what to draw. Then I recalled the girl at the airport. The whole incident was hilarious and I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud. That blabberer was actually pretty. I began to sketch now more relaxed than earlier.
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Another chapter is completed. I hope you enjoyed it.
Two Emily's 😅?
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