CHAPTER TWO
There was a loud ringing noise that won't let up. It was so shrill and bothersome. Even when I rolled to the other side of the bed, it persisted. I covered my ears with such force, I almost busted my eardrums.
"Uhhhh! Stop that infernal noise."
It stopped miraculously and I was able to breathe easier, but just when I was about to turn, it started up once again.
"Will you please stop your alarm clock, it's messing with my sleep." I woke with a start to see Chito beside my bed, hair mussed, eyes red and heavy from lack of sleep.
Pity coursed through me. I was sure he had not been able to sleep since, and here I was messing it up. I rolled over and hit the off button on my bedside alarm. "Sorry, buddy, I thought I was dreaming. Try and get some sleep."
I rolled to the other side, intent on catching some more shut eye, but after a few minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up and opened my eyes. I got out of bed and was shocked to see Chito still in the same place I had left him - in front of my bed.
"Buddy, what are you still doing here? Your chair got jammed again?" I bent to check his wheel chair but it seemed fine to me after a brief inspection.
I stood and looked at him noting how his brows were squeezed tightly and there were telltale track marks of tears on his checks. I was on my knees in front of him in an instant. "What's wrong? Does something hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"
He just shook his head and said nothing. I patted him down gently, exactly as the doctor had told me to do. "Your shots, where are they?"
He still said nothing. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that had begun spilling out of them. It broke my heart to see my little brother cry. I couldn't take it anymore, and I knew I shouldn't have held him so tightly, but I couldn't help it. I hugged his bony frame to me. Doing that gave me some hope for the future.
"Don't go!" Came his teary voice against my chest a few seconds later.
I froze. How did he know I was going out? I hadn't told him anything about my going anywhere today, especially with it being a Saturday. Once I remembered the alarm, my limbs were released of the inertia that held them captive. That was it. The alarm. That's how he knew. "I've got to go to work so I can put food on the table, Chito. I promise you I won't be long."
It was his turn to freeze, so I moved back and lifted his head. He was all head and a bony frame. My heart broke and I resisted the urge to scream.
Why did he have to suffer so much? He who was pure and good. Why did mother have to die and leave me to fend for him? I was barely an adult myself but I had to face the responsibility of adulthood.
I shook my head at how unfortunate life was.
Chito lifted his tear-streaked face and gazed at me with somber brown eyes that had seen too much pain. "You're thinking of mama, aren't you?"
Couldn't he see that I needed to do this one last job so he could undergo the operation?
That's right, he couldn't, he thought I was just a mere teacher who taught high school kids English language.
I sighed and cleaned his face. "Tell you what - I'll get a big fat burger, the greasy kind with plenty mayonnaise, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and some pickles, oh, and a side of chips, on my way back, huh, huh. What you think about that?" I gently nudged him on his ribs.
"Mia, I dreamt you died." He delivered that last statement with so much seriousness I had to laugh.
When I came down from my laughter filled high, looked at him. "Me, die?" I shook my head vehemently. "I'm not going anywhere yet, buddy, at least not until you're well and good, and besides, I told you dreams don't mean anything, they're just there to make us realize we've got a soul, nothing more."
But he wasn't convinced, which wasn't new with Chito. He gave me one last puppy dog look before wheeling himself out of my room. I stayed that way for a while before remembering I needed to get a move on. Out there was an impatient man waiting for results, and a scientist to be dealt with.
I got ready, which didn't take me much time, after brushing my teeth and putting on my work clothes which consisted of a black tee and black jeans. After that I debated on whether to pack my hair up or let it down.
"Whadaya think?" I asked my reflection in the mirror. I stuck my tongue out and made a funny face. "Down it is."
So I brushed my hair, marveling after all these years, at its soft texture. Once I had finished brushing it out rigorously, it trailed down my waist, heavy and long.
I got out my taser from where I hid it underneath my folded clothes in my drawer and tucked it into the sides of my boots.
As I made to leave my room, I saw it. The hand-made bracelet Chito had given me on my last birthday. It seemed to wink at me from my bedside table, so I picked it and wore it.
I set my timer to twenty minutes as I picked up the keys to Sheba and left my room. I passed Chito's bedroom which was practically adjacent to mine, placed an ear against his door but didn't hear any noise. I lifted a hand to knock on it, but thought better of it.
It was better not to disturb him, he was probably asleep anyway.
I shook my head and quietly walked down the stairs. At the kitchen, I jugged down a bottle of water as I was patched and needed hydration. As I walked into the sitting room, my mind was on the mission ahead. Yesterday, I had been a bit too hasty to agree to do the hit today. I always took my time to study the pattern of the person I had to off so as to know the best way to go about -
I dropped to the ground when I saw movement at the window and rolled towards it. The silhouette of a woman passed the window and continued on. I rushed to look out and was just in time to see Mrs. Robinson, my nosy neighbor walking to her garden.
I heaved a sigh of relief and walked out to the garage.
"Hello, Sheba." She sat looking at me with big orange eyes. I got a hold of a rag and cleaned a stain on her, then I patted her on the head. "Ready for another adventure?"
I started the engine of my Harley Davidson bike and revved it, making a hellish noise as I drove out of the garage. Mrs. Robinson looked up in fright like she always did anytime I rode out with Sheba.
"Bye, Mrs. Robinson." I smirked, driving past her and revving Sheba's engine, right before I put on my ray ban glasses.
I saw her snort of disapproval as I sped off leaving her coughing in the wake of the smoke from my exhaust. As I got onto the road, I blanked my mind and opened my chakra, exactly as I had been taught, and exactly as I had done ever since. It helped me have some foreshadowing of what was to come. As I swam through my perceptions, ready to latch on to what was ahead, something dark railroaded my senses. I mentally shrugged it away, but it was like a veil that refused to go.
Try as hard as I could, it refused to leave my front, and so by the time I got to the freeway, I was already upset and my thoughts were all over the place.
Somewhere inside me - the reluctant part of me - knew I should have gone back, but I have always been stubborn, and apart from that, I had a briefcase full of two and a half million quid cooling off in my weapons place, and another two and another half in my offshore account.
I didn't want to release them anytime soon. Make that never.
The funny feeling persisted all through my ride. It only ebbed when I hit a patch of traffic. Cars were lined up on four rows, back to back, jam packed. I looked down at Sheba and smirked. "Ready for some action?"
I thought I heard her purr, so I wore my helmet cause it was about to get nasty. When I saw a leeway as cars began to move, I stepped on the accelerator and Sheba surged forward. I bent her to the side just in time before another car could helm her in and turned left. I was however stopped by two jeeps on either side of me a few paces in front.
Music poured out from the one on the left. From the corner of my eyes, I saw there were four male teenagers inside. From the gold chains hanging around their necks to the piercings in their ears and tattoos on their hands, I could clearly know they were either going for a party or just coming from one. Either way, I wasn't ready for their nonsense.
I heard the whir of the window as it came down and one of them stuck his head out. "Hey, mamacita, how 'bout you come down from that bike and I can give you a ride to wherever."
The rest of the guys in the car hollered like they'd never seen a woman wearing all black and had red hair before in their lives. I ignored their stupidity and stared straight ahead, but then the window of the Jeep on my right, wound down, and a man poked his head out. "Those kids disturbing you?"
Here's the thing? I didn't like young boys who thought they were God's gift to women, neither did I like men who had savior complexes, so I ignored the both of them.
The traffic began to ease as cars started moving and before they could say 'holla,' I sped off amidst annoying cat calls from the kids.
Didn't anyone teach them to be respectful to their elders?
I smirked as Sheba surged to life beneath me, angry she had been idle for so long.
"Atta, girl, that's the spirit."
It was free sailing after that, until I came across a red light and had to stop once more. Where I was going wasn't far. I needed some supplies, plus I was running out of time.
The window of opportunity flashed before me. Timer on the red light was still forty seconds away. "Come on, come on, come on." But it was taking ages. Thirty five seconds left.
It was now or never. I revved the engine and Sheba sprang to life beneath my hands and surged forward.
Too late, I didn't see the incoming truck. I tried to break but I was too close. The last thing I remembered before the head on collision were Chito's words.
I dreamt you died.
CHAPTER THREEI stretched tiredly in the back seat of my Lincoln Navigator, lulled by the movement of the car. I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep. Just ten minutes would do, at least for now. As I closed them, I was plagued with visions of a pain-filled Aretha. She had not been able to sleep at all last night. She had tossed and turned, holding her stomach and groaning in pain. Even the strong pain killers given to her by the doctor had not worked. I felt helpless as I had sat beside her. I couldn't even hold her close anymore as her body temperature was through the roof.Her fever had broken sometime in the early hours of the morning and she had finally stopped clutching her stomach, but the worst was not over. As doe-eyed as I was and as much as I wanted it to be so, I couldn't hide away from the fact anymore.My wife was dying.The truth grabbed me by the hair and slapped me in the face. That was when the hysteri
THE DIAGNOSIS The call came in the night while I was fast asleep holding Aretha. It was one of those rare moments where she had not thrashed all through the night. I checked that she was still breathing and quietly slipped out of bed making sure not to wake her. It wasn't every day I got to have the luxury of holding her close, so naturally I was upset when once I got into junior's bedroom, I picked the call. "Hello, is this Mr. Moore?" The strange clinical voice asked. After revealing my identity to the caller, he introduced himself as doctor Rogers from Almond hospital. I had a flash back of a medium sized man in a blue scrub underneath a white lab coat. "I'm afraid the diagnosis doesn't look too encouraging, sir. Your secretary has blunt head trauma, five cracked ribs a fractured hip and a punctured lung. She might not last tonight. Even if she does, it will be extensive work to make her whole again; she will need physiotherapy to learn how to work again, she might or might not
THE FUNERAL Aretha's condition took a turn for the worse and I was called in by the specialist. One look at her and I knew she wasn't going to last the night. He left me alone by her bedside but all I could do was stand and stare. She was all skin and bones having stopped eating over a month ago. She lay asleep looking deceptively peaceful, but I knew that was only a ruse, for when the pain came, it was like an avalanche. I didn't know when my feet moved me forward and I knelt in front of her and caressed her balding head. She opened her eyes and in a moment of clarity, smiled at me. "I love you, Alex." I smiled through the tears in my eyes, happy she had recognized me, but a few seconds later, she closed her eyes and drew her last breath. "No, no, no, no, you can't leave me, you can't." I got a hold of her and shook her hoping she would wake and tell me 'surprise' like she used to do when she was hale and hearty. Unfortunately, that never happened. I broke down completely, sobb
AFTERI woke the following morning wondering how I had gotten into my bed. Memories of the day before assailed me and despair hit me all over again like a flower in full bloom.I closed my eyes as tears filled them. I was too damn emotional for a man. I squeezed my eyelids, feeling the pain flare up behind them. I sighed and opened them again. All around me, traces of Aretha had all but vanished. The matching golden filigree bedside lamps she bought, the two gilt high backed chairs in front of the bed, the pure cotton bedsheets she favored over the silk one's I preferred. Even her clothes, shoes and all of her ornaments, every single item, I had given to charity.They were a painful reminder of what was meant to be, but wasn't.My eyes widened when they fell on the curtains.Who in their right mind would agree to have sunshiny yellow curtains?Aretha, that's who.She had always loved the colour yellow. Not just any shade of yellow. It had to be the exact shade of the sun - yellow with
THE VISIT". . .so I punched him in the face.""But why did you punch him in the face, Mr. Moore?" The policeman cocked his head like he was expecting to hear something along the lines of well, because after x and y, the next alphabet wasn't z.I stifled the look of irritation creeping up on my face and answered tiredly. "Because he was badmouthing my wife and talking about her in a disrespectful way. You don't get to talk bad about a man's wife and expect not to get punched in the face."The five police men looked at each other and nodded. "He's right." One of them announced."But where were you exactly?" The one in the middle asked.I lifted my hands that were propped on my knees and put them on the table. The policemen close to my left must have thought I was going to bring out a weapon or something, because his hand went to the waistband of his trousers and hovered there. When he saw all I did was change posture, he relaxed, but I noticed his attention was drawn to my knuckles.Pa
THE OTHER SIDECould this morning get any messier?Twice, I had spilt tea on two different ties, and twice, I had changed them. Two charcoal grey ties that would have immediately screamed elegant.I blamed the two cups of tea I had binge-drunk in a fit of anxiety. The offending items sat on my bedside table looking deceptively innocent.The question that had been creeping into my head after I removed yet the second tie, was what was I going to wear?I was meant to meet with some members from the DEA today at my laboratory and I didn't want to mess it up like I had done the last time. The first impression was nothing to write home about, so the second one had to be near-perfect."Why don't you wear another tie?" The robot asked from behind me.I had put back the microchip I removed back into it's head because I felt guilty and wanted to apologize. Not to the robot, but to Aretha, my wife. I knew she wouldn't like me shutting down the gift I bought for her.I stood in front of the full
THE ENDORSEMENTHelp! I need an antidote for anxiety.It had been one week. One week of twiddling my fingers and wearing my carpet thin. One week of not hearing back from the DEA.I was almost foaming at the mouth. Every day like clockwork, I would get to the office before anyone, because I was going stir-crazy at home, amongst my staff. I probably checked the company mail about ten times every hour. When that didn't yield any fruit, I shifted my attention to my personal mail, and then it was back to the company mail once again.And then I began to ruminate.Maybe they got some alphabets mixed up. It had happened to me once when I sent a mail to a company and waited for weeks for a reply. They eventually called saying they hadn't gotten any mail from me. Turned out I had mixed up an n with an m.So maybe that was what probably happened.Mr. Hendricks did seem impressed, so what was the big hold up about?A thought occurred to me. Perhaps they wanted to send me a personal text message
SECOND CHANCES"So, Mr. Moore, what can the public expect from Exceva in the long run?"Mr. Moore, how many people do you perceive will be cured using Exceva?""Mr. Moore, will you . . .”I mentally shut out the words of the third reporter. At that point in time, I was about ready to keel over. My eyes had become blurry and red and they stung, but I lifted my shoulders a little higher and pasted on a smile that didn't reach my heart. "As you all know, my wife was diagnosed with womb cancer. Unfortunately, she wasn't diagnosed on time, and as a result. . ." I looked down and shook my head, valiantly trying to keep the tears which threatened to swim to the surface, at bay.I looked back up at all the reporters that swarmed around, eagerly waiting for the rest of my words and I knew I couldn't let the water works reign free. "Exceva was meant for people who have been diagnosed with early stage cancer. It is a drug that's meant to give sustainability, but above all, restoration and comple