LABYRINTHS - NINETEEN

                In the morning it was Abbey’s knock woke me up. I came out to see her all dressed.

                “Where are you going?” I said with sleepy eyes.

                “Where else... work of course!”

                “What do you mean work of course?”

                “Have you forgotten that I work?”

                “In case you need reminding you just came back from the hospital what... hours ago...? And now you’re going to work?”

                “Mhmm!”

                “Ever heard of the word REST?”

                “Yeah, I have; but I will rest over the weekend.”

                “No way,” I said. “You go nowhere!”

                “Oh c’mon Iroko, this is how it always goes. Rest doesn’t exactly help. Once I’m out of the hospital I resume my work like normal the very next day... I don’t feel pains or anything... And it’s not like I need to recuperate...”

                “Are you serious?”

                “Yeah. And if I miss today, means I’ve missed the entire week... because Friday’s a public holiday. And there be some folks out there who can’t wait for me to finally die so the party for them can begin.”

                “Nothing I can do to stop you?”

                “Of course you can stop me, but I’m begging you not to. I’ll take care of myself and then I’ll rest tomorrow all through to Sunday. Besides, I’ll be back earlier than usual.”

                “Okay... You go if you must.” When she tried to turn away I added, “You might wanna know that… I’ve fixed a date for my trip.”

She turned back around. “When?”

                “I start working on the papers Monday... It shouldn’t take long. As soon as it’s done... Tuesday... Maybe Wednesday.”

She hugged me tautly all of a sudden, and then ran out of the house holding back emotions.

I didn’t know what to make of that.

The next thing I heard was the ignition of the S-Class and then a heavy thud. I rushed out to look and found that she’d rammed into the gatehouse while trying to reverse. The rear chassis of the car severely dented. I told her to come back inside and stay home, that she wasn’t fit yet to drive. She said true, that she wasn’t fit to drive, and threw the car key at me and ran out of the gate... Apparently, it was to catch a cab.

Zuma and I took care of the mess as best we could.

                In the evening Isabelle came over with her sister... and, as it later appeared, with what she’d been up to at the printing press.

Well, I had to leave them in the sitting room; Abbey and Isabelle had some making up to do, and Lillian was silent and I thought I shouldn’t bother her.

                “You guys have some making up to do,” I said and left for my room.

                Much later I heard a knock; opening, I saw both women beaming. Isabelle handed me a tiny card – Invitation to Abbey’s Survival Party at Isabelle’s Place.

                “Come to think of it, we’ve never seen you boogie!” Isabelle said.

I laughed. “Was this a surprise to you, Abbey?” I asked her.

                “Yes, it was. I told you this girl is so... improvising.” She hit Isabelle on the arm playfully.

                “Isn’t a party... excitement? Doesn’t it put you at risk?” I asked.

                “It couldn’t... I party... nothing happens. Nothing can get into me and stir me to... ecstasy.”

I cast a look at Isabelle... to let her know I’d heard about Abbey’s disease. If, perhaps, there was something more...

                “It’s tomorrow?” I asked.

                “Yes.”

                “Of course I’ll be there.”

                “Great!” Isabelle screamed. And both girls hugged me gleefully, and dashed back to the sitting room to continue strategizing for the event. I sensed oozing from their high spirits the bliss of fresh reconciliation... of girl friends who had missed each other.

Later both girls said they were going out to see some things... that they’d be right back. They went in Isabelle’s Honda Accord, leaving the sadist behind. After I watched the happy duo leave, I went and sat in the sitting room, reckoning it would be uncouth to leave Lillian all alone. But I resolved not to say the first word. That was probably her game too. Nay, that was her way – her life. We just sat there, far apart, not saying anything to each other.

She then stood up and walked to the kitchen. I felt she knew her way so I didn’t say anything to her. And it was good riddance to bad rubbish, anyway. I just sat wondering what she was doing there... if she was hungry or something. I was too. Fixing lunch had been up to me, because Abbey couldn’t wait to leave the house in the morning that she made no meal arrangements as usual. I’d passed up lunch. And now, it wasn’t quite time for dinner; and with Abbey gallivanting around town with Isabelle, she mightn’t even remember we needed to eat in this house. If Lillian was up to preparing some food I didn’t mind; I just hoped she’d be kind enough to share. Remembering the fried rice at their place I knew that, in the kitchen, she had the Midas touch. I heard some sounds... the refrigerator door opening, and then slamming, moving utensils, clicking glasses... and then I heard the shattering of glass and a loud scream. I rushed. Poor Miss Lillian had filled two glasses with juice – perhaps for her and Zuma – and had spilled one. Now the kitchen floor was smeared with a funny mixture of colours: glass particles like diamonds here and there in the yellow juice, and Lillian’s blood... looking like more blood than juice spilled. The poor girl was crouched in a corner feigning strength.

                “What happened?” I asked with visible concern as I went to lift her up.

When I touched her she cringed and I left her a little distance from the ground and she slammed her pretty butt on the tiled floor. I went to get a mop to clean up the mess. I got her some tissue paper to wrap the bleeding finger with; and offered her as many sorries as I could. But I wasn’t going to touch her again. She slowly dabbed the finger with the tissue and, from where I stood, I saw that the cut was quite deep.

I brought the salt shake and gave it to her to sprinkle some salt on the surface but she turned it down.

She stood up and walked out of the kitchen.

I thought... I’d never seen a human being like this before. I continued to mop the floor, and when I finished I went back to my seat in the living room. Then she emerged from the utility room with a First Aid Box and came and sat on the rug in front of me, still mute. She opened the box and brought out a bottle of Milton and handed it to me with, somewhat, trembling hands, and she was looking softly into my eyes. I took the bottle, and got some cotton wool too and readied to get to work.

                “If I hadn’t heard you speak before, Lily, I’d think you’re dumb.”

I dabbed the finger with the spirit and she shrieked in pain, with the concomitant grimace – and she was still extremely beautiful.

                “Sorry girl... But I’m glad you’re aware it’s for your own good.”

After sterilizing the cut with the spirit, I wrapped the finger with a plaster and said,

                “To make it heal quicker...” I was lifting the finger up to my mouth to kiss it when she pulled it away.

The look on her face confused me. It was the countenance of a scared girl.

“Well, you’re all fixed girlie!” I announced.

I put everything back in the box and she covered it and took it away.

                “By the way, Lillian, the lucky glass of juice’s still waiting for you... Were you gonna drink two glasses?”

She ignored me and proceeded to replace the box from where she took it. I refocused on the TV, and then I saw her pass to the kitchen. In a short while she emerged with two glasses of juice in a tray, walking with exaggerated care. She dropped the tray on the centre table and brought me a glass. I felt that meant I had to take it, so I took it from her and just watched. She took the other one and went and sat down and began to sip.

I reckoned all wasn’t well with this girl... this intriguing damsel... Too much beauty for one woman alone! A question wanted to push my lips apart and jump out, but a hunch told me to calculate... to think before I spoke. Now I decided I’d say the exact opposites of what impulse nudged me to say. Like... the first thing I wanted to say was ‘Are you alright Lillian?’ but instead I said,

                “This is quite thoughtful of you, miss. Thanks a bunch...”

I saw a ray of smile flicker across her face and knew my improvised strategy wrought wonders. So, now, where I wanted to say ‘Don’t you talk?’ I said,

                “...And I’m fascinated by your silent goodness... your silent thoughtfulness... Without being told, without a dialogue, you read the mind and know what to do. That’s amazing. But I wish you could share with me ... the beauty of your voice.”

She didn’t conceal the smile now. She let me see it – all of it – the beauty and glow of it. She let it intoxicate me like Abbey’s champagne yesterday.

                Zuma had to get the gate, because a Honda Accord wanted to come in. Lillian had already cleared our juice glasses. And the silence seemed like we’d been waiting for Abbey and Isabelle to come and rescue us from the boredom of each other. They came in conversing animatedly, probably about what they’d gone out to see. They argued for a while about colour choices, and then it was time for the sisters to go home. Then the final hush hush wishes and kisses of parting friends ensued after which both girls left.

Lillian spoke to Abbey... and to her sister... why wouldn’t she speak to me?

 I wondered.