GRACE DAVID'S CORNER; LIBERTY: Episode 3

EPISODE THREE

You are all fair my love and there is no spot in you. He had quoted the Songs of Solomon and like the wise king’s lover she felt valued, priceless and pure even. She had felt every tiny piece of her shattered heart beating out of control at that moment as he told her for the hundredth time how much he loved her. Her continuous denial of how much she at least liked him had been forgotten that day ten years ago and he had with almost feverish care made her believe every word of the seventh verse of the fourth chapter of the Songs of Solomon. That a year afterwards she would have no other man hold her hand through life except him. But what had changed since then or what hadn’t? She thought with a heavy sigh. Her phone beeped alerting her of a missed call, but it had barely made a sound. She checked the caller ID but it was a private number so instead of dwelling on it she decided to fish her husband out after sending Uju on her way in the most polite way possible. She found him lying in bed with his favourite Jesus Culture song playing in the background. It was her favourite too, just like navy blue being one of her favourite colours because it was his or how he wanted his soup with plenty pepper. Jeff had ceased her life and had commandeered it ever since, not that she detested it, it only frightened her a little.

She slid in beside him and rested her head on his chest, she knew he wasn’t asleep, Jeff slept sparingly and when he did even the footsteps of a quiet mouse could wake him up. He sighed heavily as his eyes fluttered open.

“Sucre I am sorry for bringing up the baby thing again,” she apologised promptly. She had learnt how to use the word sorry from her Mama the hard way, and she now saw its merit in her marriage.

Jeff gathered her in his arms and said quietly, “I am still hungry for your pancakes, so apologies accepted,”

Even though she was relieved that their disagreement could be dismissed as nothing, sometimes she would like to see him break a vein yelling at her or been petty about an issue. At least that way the disagreements instead of been pushed under the bed would be thoroughly washed and dealt with. It was why she was dying inside; there are some things a paint brush can’t depict. But Jeff was all she had and his little fault of not wanting to lose control was nothing compared to where she had been and where she was headed before he came and took the steering wheel from her.

“It’s Saturday right?” He asked out of the silence.

She was quite expectant, their weekend outings occurred like rainfall in the desert-very sparse and memorable.

“I have to be at the office early and you have a meeting with your unit and a lot of other stuff with the Sisters’ fellowship,” he extricated himself from her slack grip and left the bed to her disappointment. Who works like this, except robots without souls?

As he made for the door he turned back to regard her, “madam my pancakes,” he had said jokingly but she was in no mood for mirth so she silently left the bed and followed him.

After breakfast they slipped into the usual routine of preparing for another hectic weekend, Jeff would have his coffee black and scathing hot in a flask while she always had hers with sugar, cream and all the bells and whistles her flask would allow, then out the door into the world to conquer it.

As usual the unit she served on needed one new gadget or the other to beat the world’s standard of broadcasting as the media unit’s H.O.D would always say, forgetting that the world’s standard cost a lot of money as it was, beating it would sell the couch from under her butt. As usual she reasoned with them until they acceded to something a little budget friendly, then she moved on to the Sisters’ meeting that lasted longer than necessary, ate takeouts with Jeff in his office as he answered calls in between spoonfuls of rice. She loved serving the Lord to the best of her abilities, but one look at her husband told her he was stretched taut and would soon break if she didn’t do something about it.

It wasn’t till the sun was casting its crimson rays on the horizon that they left the office and on their way to grab a tub of ice cream, his mother called requesting to see them. If not that the woman was such a sweetheart she would have found a way to wiggle out of fulfilling the request. Jeff smiled apologetically as he changed lanes and made for Asokoro where Mama Jane lived with her thirty something year old daughter who gave her constant heartaches. Thirty minutes later they were in front of the imposing mansion with its neatly kept hedges and manicured lawns. Mama Jane’s husband, the late Bishop Sam had come from a wealthy background even before venturing into ministry so much so that after his demise years ago in a boat accident his wealth instead of diminishing was on the increase thanks to his strong wife and children. Jeff had being the only one who could continue from where his father had stopped in ministry; Constance would have no part of the ministry except to warm one of the seats on Sundays. 

As soon as they rang the doorbell Mama Jane came to answer it herself, she flung her arms around them. One would think she didn’t see them at least twice a week in church. “Church is different,” she would always say.

They followed her into the living room chattering and laughing loudly; Chide couldn’t help but pray that Constance was out of the house, she lacked the strength to banter words with her overbearing sister-in-law. But her prayers were not answered as Constance was sitting on the couch facing the television. Her back elegantly straight, her legs effortlessly crossed and her appearance sophisticated and stiff. She turned to look at them with a straight face that they were all too familiar with and mumbled her greeting.

Jeff went to hug her nonetheless, “my dear sister, how are you?”

“Same,” she said with a heavy sigh turning back to the television.

“What should Adisa get you? I made a special delicacy in my spare time,” Mama Jane offered.

“I am famished,” Jeff said rubbing his stomach.

“Chide I don’t need to ask you, let’s go to the kitchen we have a lot to talk about,” she said standing up.

“Can I come?” Jeff said with childish enthusiasm and got shooed by both women.

As soon as they got to the large kitchen that gave Chide mental backaches at the thought of cleaning the floor, the older woman took charge as was her character. 

She turned from the microwave oven and asked, “So what’s up?”

Chide already knew what that question meant – what’s up with your womb, is another life growing inside you? And the answer was always the same. She looked down as she shook her head trying to fight the tears that were threatening to break free.

Mama Jane came to hug her, “don’t worry dear, we will pray harder and believe more, understand that when I ask that question it is not to put unnecessary pressure on you but to show my concern,”

She released her and went to turn off the microwave oven, as she served the meal she suddenly remembered something and said, “Someone mistakenly sent your mail here, as if letter writing wasn’t enough surprise the address was mixed up, it’s on the island table,” 

Chide moved to the gleaming table where a letter that was addressed to her was placed and picked it up all the while wondering who it was. As she tore it open there was a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t shake off. The envelope contained a plain sheet and the word or rather name, LIBERTY! glared at her in bold print. She almost passed out on the kitchen floor as her mother-in-law regarded her with concern written all over her features.

“Chide are you alright?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Post By :Grace David!