A time to heal (4)

Mide’s Abor with Olamide Longe

Email:  araokian@gmail.com Twitter: @araokian

Continued from last week

At the close of work, she went to see her boss and explained the situation to her without any hint of sentimentality.

However, her boss reacted in a predictable manner and with her palms on her chest asked what Maria wanted.

Maria requested for two weeks leave.

Granted. Start tomorrow. Did she have enough money? Not to worry, she would have finance department pay some money into her account tomorrow.

Maria hadn’t expected that. She was touched. “Thank you so much, ma,” she said in a wobbly voice.

Her boss only shook her head. “Your poor sister, she will never get over it.”

Well.

Describing Elizabeth as her sister wasn’t a lie; Maria told her conscience emphatically as she left her boss’s office.

She was.

Used to be.

Was.

After all, here she was planning to go stand by her, like a sister.

Best friends do that, too.

Well, sisters were usually best of friends. And they were also good at grudge matches, too. She’d heard of sisters who did not speak to each other for like 15 years.

Blood sisters.

True story.

When she got back to her office, she called Emmanuel.

He answered after the first ring.

“I talked to my boss. I got two weeks. I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, Maria,” he said in a hushed voice. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

“Thank you.”

“Good choice.”

He sighed. “I’m grateful. Mum will be delirious with joy.”

“I doubt it. But, don’t tell her anything until I call to tell you that I have reached.”

“Okay. Erm… could you give me your account number; I’d like to pay your way there.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Sorry. I just felt…”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” His voice was thick with frustration.

Maria pitied him. She shouldn’t be enjoying his helplessness, but she could not help the tiny thrill of delight she felt. Emmanuel loved to be in control.

“So, I should expect your call when you reach?”

“I’ll call you.”

Maria called her mum when she got home and asked if she knew about Elizabeth. Her mother replied that she did and before Maria could query her further, explained that she didn’t inform her daughter about it because she had sworn not to have anything to do with that family again.

Maria swallowed her ire. “I’m coming down tomorrow to visit her.”

“It took a tragedy,” her mum said when she finally found her voice.

Maria burned. “I will see you tomorrow, ma.”

“I’ll be praying for journey mercies.”

Maria felt miserable as she packed a holdall. She longed for somebody to talk to, to share her pain.

After Elizabeth, she never grew close to anybody again. She made friends, but none was allowed close enough to share confidences. She had party buddies and office buddies, but none would be informed about her plans to be away for two weeks.

She slept fitfully that night. She dreamt of Enoch at one point, the face she saw belonged to a stranger, but his voice spoke to her, blaming her for everything. She woke up with a start when he lunged at her.

She sat up in her bed, breathing heavily. She looked at the clock; it would soon be dawn. She would wait for it. After a few minutes, she went to her wardrobe and brought out a worn biscuit carton. She sat cross-legged on the floor and ignoring its coldness, began to sift through the contents of the carton. She found what she was looking for. It was a quarto size brown envelope; it was swollen. She took it with her and climbed back into bed. Resuming her cross-legged position, she emptied its contents on the bed. They were photographs. She found the one she wanted.

It was in a good condition. She had preserved it well. She gazed at the face smiling back at her. He was standing in front of an officious looking building, with manicured lawn and hedges. He looked gorgeous.

Enoch.

She remembered the day she had selected this picture out of the four he had shown to her as the one she liked above all, as if it was yesterday. He had come home from his university on a short break and she and Elizabeth were waiting to get into one, having graduated from secondary school. It was only his second day at home and she’d practically moved in.

He’d grinned, nodded, after she chose the photograph as her favourite and said it was hers to keep. She’d looked into his eyes, wondering why. And she had been unable to look away. He’d told her then that it was time to reveal to her how he truly felt about her. He wanted to know if she felt the same way. He suspected that she did, but wanted to be sure.

She was not a good pretender.

That same afternoon, Elizabeth found them together and raised a stench.

She discovered that day that she didn’t have a friend or sister. Elizabeth was malevolence personified.

Elizabeth’s mum believed something sinister had been happening under her nose and that she had been played for a fool. She had given Enoch two quick slaps when he tried to talk.

She had refused to listen to Maria’s explanation or her pleas and had sent her home. She had cried all the way home.

She narrated what happened to her mom and her mom had wanted to march right back with her, but she refused. The next day the driver brought over her backpack.  And she swore never to have any dealings with the Oches again. Her mother didn’t believe she could do it.

Elizabeth’s mum and Enoch tried to contact her; she refused. Elizabeth to her knowledge did not try. Not that it mattered. She didn’t want to be Elizabeth’s friend anymore, not after her display that afternoon.

Continues next week