Short Story – A Cry (Part 1)

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A Cry
Photo Credit – Laurence Simon

“I want” she whispered. Did he hear? Could he understand the depth & source of her desire? Kevwe looked at her journal…the pattern had changed. Yes she had matured but this want had stayed with her, through the healing seasons. Talk, yes that’s it! I need to talk but would they understand? The lady in the mirror stared back at her, eyes filled with longing, in response… no, they won’t.

A blue/ivory settee, surrounded by various hues and shades of blue & ivory in the 12”16 side parlour, suddenly needed more than the chequered blue throw-pillows, the hand crafted sea blue Arabian rug. Even the flowery shay blue vases looked cold. ‘If you hear me, why are you silent?’ she pleaded.

Kevwe’s vision was blurred as tears cascaded down her face. “But you said, you’ll always be with me, she accused, where are you now that I need you? Where are you?” Weeks of questioning & thinking seemed to explode all at once into mad fury. “All I need to know is you are here, all I want is a response from you. Not sure I can handle this by myself, I really need you,” she pleaded.

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April 3rd, 1999

The day had started like any other day, though with the exception of the early morning rush to get to the bus park. All around the early birds bustled and moved like silhouettes on the wall. A few good mornings inundated the slapping of shoes on the tar as people hurried in different directions to start their day.

Surrounded by early morning chit chat as she waited for the bus to be filled, Kevwe chuckled as she observed the people who rose with the dawn. A middle aged man, carrying a sack came to the bus and led them in prayers for safety. This turned out to be the foundation to sell drugs to passengers.

It had been a while since she had used public transportation, but determined to get out of town and get back in without driving saw her here. Kevwe glanced at her watch…hope Laolu won’t be late for school she muttered, as she tried to review if she had made it easy for Bee. Lunch pack, check, homework in bag, check, both placed on the dinning table, check; Laolu’s clothes for school all laid out with socks and shoes…check.

“This drug can cure you of that worm wey you dey feed for belle…” the sales pitch of the drug man floated around her thoughts from a distance. Focusing on the sack…as a fellow passenger called out: “Oga give me one pack,” with yet another shouting to be heard above the din; “How you sey make I drink am?” Kevwe was amused.

Finally the one chance of the conductor was truly a chance. 1 minute later the bus was off. The bus rattled and shook as it moved along the dusty road, scraping its chassis as it maneuvered through the potholes which served as good speed breakers. Using the honking of their horns to  greet their pals and make their impatience with the other drivers known, the road users produced a variety of sounds. Kevwe turned her face towards the window, the mixture of the smells perforating the air within the bus was choking, even so early in the morning when no one ought to have begun sweating.

She looked back in time to see the driver  attempt to use the lane for oncoming vehicles to make some head way. Kevwe wondered how far they could go, as the frame of a lorry loomed large in front of the bend. Tyres screeched, as the driver tried to slow down; the frightened screams of Jesus! filled the bus, as the windows shattered. The bus swerved and collided with the lorry and all went black!

To be continued tomorrow…

© 2012, Oghale Otokunefor. All rights reserved.

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