I bolt out of bed as sleep and a dark morbid dream takes flight from my confused brain. My feet find themselves on the floor and start running in their own accord and bitter liquid rise from the pit of my stomach into my mouth. My hand pushed the door open and the next thing I know I am kneeling in front of the toilet vomiting.
I feel cold—or is it hot? I really don’t know. Beads of sweat form on my brow and a tiredness engulfs me when I can no longer vomit out. I slump on the bathroom floor as drowsiness envelops me like a crooning lullaby. My eyes close as heavy sleep seizes them. I fall on my back like I am falling on soft clouds before everything goes black.
I hear voices. They are muffled and seem to be engaged in a fast word exchange conversation. Everything else is quiet expect for the two men talking. Maybe the TV is on or who the hell is talking so loudly this time of the morning? With this level of silence I am positive it’s still the early hours of the morning and Taylor never makes this much noise whenever he decides to get up early.
I stir my head, trying to block the noise. I want to open my eyes but I also want to go back to sleep. I raise my abnormally heavy arm and grab the pillow under my head. It’s too heavy. But it feels so soft as I am lying on it not the bag of cement that I am trying to carry. What the hell?
I scowl with my eyes still closed and try again. The thing is just too heavy. I make a mental note to inspect all my pillows when I wake up come morning.
I give up trying to pull at the pillow that I was going to use to cover my head from the two noisy people and my heavy suddenly 700 pound hands fall with a resounding thud on the bed. The noise ceases almost immediately. I almost sigh in contentment when I feel a gentle touch on my arm and another hand cup my face.
‘Heather, honey.’
My eyes snap open and the sudden act sends a pounding sensation in my head. I shut my eyes again for a moment before I gently pry them open and all the fog clears to reveal Taylor’s face in my view.
‘Taylor?’ comes my raspy voice I could have sworn someone else spoke and not me. Could have staked my life on it in fact.
‘I’m here.’ He leans closer to my face. Why does he have to be so damn beautiful? With the way I am feeling at the moment I am sure I have face of a tired ugly bulldog. But why is he waking me up? This is our psychological contract—if one of us decide to wake at the crack of dawn you should leave one to sleep in peace. What is wrong with him? I just want to go back to sleep.
I do manage to keep my eyes open as he continues his evil act of disrupting my morning nap.
‘Hey.’ His hand continue to cup my face.
‘You are so beautiful.’ I say sleepily.
‘So are you,’ he smiles gently at me but there is worry in his eyes. I scowl up at him wondering what he could possibly be worried about this early in the morning.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask and his eyes widen a bit before he catches himself then glances behind him like there is someone there. My eyes become clearer and I see that there indeed is someone standing tall behind Taylor and I recognize doctor Focus.
‘She could be having momentary memory loss, only lasts minutes.’ Doctor Focus explains. He can’t be talking about me. What the flying fish did I do to wake up with amnesia? Looking at my track record my memory is always able to serve me with the best recaps of the previous day early in the mornings.
Taylor seems to relax a little but tension is still visible in his face. What exactly is going on? I wreck my brain for a good thirty seconds before a window is opened and it all comes flooding back in. my only reaction is maintaining my scowl;
‘Did that really happen?’ I ask Taylor with a look of unbelief on my face. I mean come on, surely I was never chased by four uncles with guns. I must have dreamt all of it right from dream land.
But Taylor’s cautious nod bursts my bubble. So it really happened.
‘How do you feel?’ Doctor Focus pins me with a gaze that is waiting for an answer
‘Like someone ran me over with a truck.’ I reply honestly—because just tired wouldn’t really cover the way I am feeling right now.
He nods then says, ‘it was probably shock and during these early stages of pregnancy you tend to be very sensitive to things. I don’t know what happened but try to take it easy these first few weeks they are rather--.’ The doctor stops at the look on our faces
‘What did you say?’ Taylor asks.
Doctor Focus’s surprise at this point surpasses ours as realisation dawns on him, ‘oh dear me I thought you knew—I mean I can tell just by looking at you.’
That earns him a hard scowl from me.
‘You are pregnant Mrs. Phatshimo, congratulations.’
I only manage to keep my mouth agape
‘Oh.’ Taylor says, I look at him because –oh- explains a lot and doesn’t justify the shocking news. At this point I can give up dreaming that I am not dreaming.
‘You have to drive by the hospital to do a full check and tests. I am sure the baby isn’t affected but a check is necessary.’
‘Thank you doctor.’ Taylor says and I sag back onto the pillows. I am still feeling tired and my limps still feel heavy but my brain is firing live vibes all over the place. ‘We will do that.’
‘I will see myself out.’ Doctor Focus announces as he strides out of the room. The silence that follows the doctor’s departure is priceless. I am still processing all this so I have nothing to say nor do I have the energy to try poking what is going on in Taylor’s head.
Okay first of all—I don’t feel pregnant. I mean there have to be a feeling right? I travel down my memory for the past few weeks—nothing to indicate pregnancy. I did have a few small things I have been scowling about and then forget once the thought flashes into my mind. A few weeks ago a number of my clothes weren’t fitting well—but that’s no big deal, I could be gaining weight. And the tiredness I constantly dealt with is because summer in this country is a life sucking demon when the heat intensifies—that also explains the headaches that had me swallowing panados most a times.
Besides, the doctor says he knows just by looking at me, logic reminds me that is no way of forming a diagnosis. I know he has been a GP since 1989 but seriously— I outwardly roll my eyes at my thoughts and that’s when I catch Taylor watching me a little too seriously.
‘What is it Taylor—speak now or forever hold your peace.’ I am suddenly annoyed by this entire ordeal. Couldn’t the world give me a little breather before slapping me with another shock on my face? I just found out that the so called mafia king is planning to stump out my existence, my lovely husband is practically my life line in their eyes because he is supposed to forge a stronger alliance making me an abysmal mismatch—and to crown it all his cousin brother seriously staked his claim on me last night. By the look on his face he was dead serious and right now I am not sure whether I am the insane one or the whole population around me is insane.
This all happened in one day and now after a half-dead half-alive sleep I wake up to the news that I am having a baby. I put my incoming panic on hold- I have to use the bathroom
Taylor drops his gaze and doesn’t say anything. Urgh I really hate it when he does that. I like to deal with things there and then and get them over with. He likes to do whatever he does with things and then bring up the topic later. Later like when I have other things to deal with. Who brought in the philosopher?
I plant my elbows on the mattress and start sitting up. Must be all the adrenaline rushing through my veins because I no longer feel dog tired. Nothing a nice shower and headache pills won’t cure. I pause—oh, I can’t take pills anymore right?
‘What is it?’ Taylor asks as he helps me to sit up
‘I can’t take pills anymore.’ I say and that annoying expression is back on his face again, ‘I need the bathroom.’
I don’t register him helping me up until my feet are planted on the floor and I am rushing into the bathroom. I shut the door and I lean on it pressing my lips together before I shriek in frustration.
Thirty minutes later I walk out from the bathroom feeling a little refreshed, on the outside anyway. It also helped that I did check my face and I didn’t look like an angry ugly bull dog. But I managed to pick tiny details of my weight gain. I am still in denial but the idea of having a baby grew on me so fast under that shower I indulged on it until my heart skipped at the image that popped into my mind.
But that expression on his face, it’s still hunting me. Of course I wasn’t expecting him to start jumping around like a crazy crown and lift me and spin me around celebrating the baby’s arrival. I am surprised as well. We just never talked babies before. It’s only been three months and I never thought about having a baby.
But he didn’t have to look like it’s just another problem accompanied by other problems that we already have. Because we do have them but the baby did nothing wrong. I place a hand on my flat stomach. I can’t believe it still. But I wouldn’t know for sure, the old doctor was just assuming though he did look too sure of himself.
I finally step out of the bathroom, get dressed and pick my bag and books. I need to do something, if I stay here all day I can’t assure my sanity.
Taylor is sitting at the Kitchen Island when I walk in with my don’t-even-say-a-word expression. He raises an eyebrow as he takes me in, he looks like he is about to voice the disapproval that is showing on his face, thinks better of it before he settles for an impassive;
‘I am going with you to school today.’
I turn around so fast that I am positive something cracked, ‘what?’
‘You heard me.’
I narrow my eyes at him, ‘I am not showing up at school with you breathing down my neck—I keep a low profile at school and I don’t need you to ruin it.’
He scoffs, ‘you really think you have a low profile at school?’
‘Why do you want to tag along anyway? Don’t you have businesses to take care of? Hunt down another rebel perhaps?’
A pause, ‘no I don’t—my schedule is clear.’
‘Well mine is not,’
He gets up and walks to put his mug in the sink, ‘we go or we stay it’s your choice.’
The rage that comes over me is not normal. I can’t guarantee the safety of both of us if I stay in this building. I just want to concentrate on something else. I want my mind to not focus on the horror that took place yesterday. I won’t survive it. Just for today—or just right now I will pretend that it was all a dream.
And thirty minutes later the good old college gates loom in front of us. Maybe I should have stayed home. Taylor have long stopped working part time at the college in three months but the students seem to recognize his car as he eases in the parking lot. Up until now the corridor whisperers hadn’t figured out to whom the ring on my finger belonged to and I had walled myself such that no one dared ask. I wasn’t the nice quiet girl. I was the don’t-bother-me-if-you-value-your-life quiet girl and it seems today they will finally figure it all out.
I cast Taylor a seething glare before I open the door and get out of the car. He only smiles sweetly as he falls into a step beside me.
Something else is going on, wild mind narrows her eyes, why is he so tense like we are being hunted? Uh—father was shot last night, logic reminds me just as we are approaching the school building.
A number of people are pointing at us with gasps and whispers. The many eyes on me and recalling running for my life last night invites a fear that engulfs me suddenly and I halt to a stop inches from the entrance. Taylor is quick to read the situation because he throws his arm around my shoulders and pushes me to walk forward.
The corridors aren’t crowded at least but I can feel a procession of curious humans at the back of my head following us.
‘I want to leave.’ I whisper
‘Not yet.’
I turn to scowl at him, ‘the crowd is making me nervous.’
‘Come on.’
I glance behind us and there really is a crowd walking down the corridor. You’d think that its high school and the bell just went off. And it then dawns on me that there is more going on than his accompanying me to school.
Minutes later we enter an empty classroom on the third floor and I sag into a chair as Taylor closes the door. I take even breath to calm my accelerating heart. Breath in, breath out, do it again and the therapy never works in real situations does it? They should just ban it.
Taylor comes and hold my shoulders while my eyes focus on his face.
‘What is going on Taylor?’ I ask. He remains silent, ‘you wanted to get me away from the house didn’t you?’
‘They were not able to remove Eric—your father’s body, someone witnessed the commotion and called the police. The police will be coming to the house to question your alibi.’
I only look at him as it all sinks in, ‘they will question me nonetheless you know that right?’
He nods, ‘you had no idea what had happened, so you woke up normally and came to school like every other day.’
‘What about the witness?’ oh god I can’t imagine what they would do to the person if he or she had seen their faces.
‘It was dark, she couldn’t recognize anybody but she knows that the victim was with another lady who was kidnapped by the murderers, so this is basically a murder and a missing person issue.’
‘What are they going to do to the witness?’
He gets the meaning behind my question, ‘she didn’t see anything worth seeing.’
‘How long must we hide out here then?’
‘Just a while.’
I just sigh and gaze into space. I wonder if it’s on the news already. What are the headlines saying? In fact, what exactly had freaked him out besides Mr. Abiwu’s version of the story? I go over the last conversation I had with father before we had to run for our lives. And mob prince? I still can’t believe it. It can’t be possible, father was a psycho dreamer who made dangerous business deals with other worse psychos than him.
They must be making up stories. But why would they lie? They are superior and richer than him. They could stamp out anyone they wanted and still get away with it. I know these things Hollywood, Bollywood, Nollywood and other woods out there were generous enough to make fiction with a picture of what the mafias were like.
So if it’s like that then I am completely screwed. I recall father’s words and flinch physically at the memory. I feel Taylor’s hand on my face, I want to swat it away but at this point I am not sure which move will put me in danger. Yes even from him. Maybe a part of me believe what father had said.
He is about to say something when the door flies open. I shriek and jump to my feet, instinctively wanting to hide and run for my life. Taylor comes to hold me as Julian enters the room with a goofy grin on his face.
‘What the hell Julian!’ Taylor says
‘Sorry.’ He raises a palm at me, ‘I am kind of in a hurry.’
I blink but Taylor seems to know what is going on.
‘You came into the school?’
‘No car’s at the other side of the road.’ Julian shrugs, ‘let’s go the meeting is in an hour we don’t want to be late.’
What meeting? But I can’t bring myself to ask. At this point I am thoroughly freaked out I think I’m about to suffer a heart attack. Taylor’s arms around me feel so dangerous, so unreal. I don’t know this man at all. As we walk out of the school building I check to keep my face normal. People are ogling at us and the last thing I need is for any random person to be involved in this.
My nerves are standing on end as we enter the car and Julian begin to drive. No one says anything as the car speeds down the road to god knows where. The place we are headed can only feel me with dread. I can only guess what it is. I am about to witness a mob meeting.