Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Monica could feel the suffering Philip was passing through after he lost his job. It was not like he had been screamingly comfortable. At least, life was easier and better when he had his chauffeuring job. She watched him closely each time he came to her room for that slump on his shoulder, that nuance of regret, to see if he bewailed his action, but his face remained inscrutable. However, she noticed his face always sparkled with bliss whenever he talked to her and was with her.

Yesterday, after she fed him a delicious plate of jollof rice speckled with fresh fish and snails, Philip ate it with utter relish and a happy twinkle in his eyes. The pepper in the food was great, but he loved it nonetheless.

‘How do you manage to cook such great food after losing your job?’ he had asked her teasingly, after chugging down two cups of cold water to soothe his burning tongue. Monica had laughed at his senseless joke and wondered if Philip had thought she would be eating and sleeping with grief, because she had lost ‘a shitty-ass job,’ as he had called it.

‘I get along well. I was not stupid not to have saved money,’ she told him. ‘And I know God will send a better job my way soon. I am only concerned about you.’ Philip fixed his gaze on Monica’s pretty face and smiled.

‘You’re concerned about me? Why should you be?’ he asked her.

‘Because we already know the story,’ Monica said, looking into his green eyes.

‘You should not always talk about that. I have a small car and I’ve put it to good use. I am a taxi driver now and I make a lot of money. It’s better when you drive yourself and you are your own boss,’ Philip said. ‘By the way, I got something for you.’ Philip rose from the bed and left Monica’s room and went over to where his car was parked. The one that was a taxi now, and returned with a gown wrapped in a black waterproof and a rose flower.

‘A small gift from my heart; they are for you,’ he said, as he handed them over to Monica. Monica took the waterproof from him and glared at what was inside.

‘Oh, a dress and a flower,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s a beautiful dress. The rose flower, what does it mean?’ she asked him as her mind travelled to the beautiful Lilacs and African daisy flowers planted behind the window of her plush mansion. She was amazed Philip already knew she loved flowers, and at how swiftly he had become her wet nurse and biggest cheerleader.

‘A rose flower is for the woman you deeply care about, the one you appreciate,’ he said, with the corners of his mouth quirking.

‘You mean to say for the woman you love?’ Monica asked him bald-facedly, as she stared at him longingly and imagined how good he would be in bed. Sincerely, that part of Boye’s life was hugely important to her. She really needed to know if he was actually a man that could answer his name, while in bed. However, she had been bidding her time in that regard and was yet to test him to see if he was anything close to what Richard or Melvin were in bed. She was a realist, and wouldn’t lie to herself that a man who is great in bed and knew how to make love to her was not one of the things she looked for and craved in a lover.

Philip moved his hand clumsily on his face, and stared at Monica.

‘What if I say I really love you? What if I say I can’t let a day pass without thinking about you? What if I say I can walk through the fire and run through the brick wall for you? I love you, Monica. With you there’s no darkness, you’re the moon and sunshine in my life,’ he said, his voice soft as wool.

‘That’s the grottiest thing and lie I’ve had to deal with. No, you cannot love me, Boye,’ Monica said, after a brief silence. ‘You do not understand what love truly means. A lot of us think we do. We say it, believe in it, but we have not truly felt and lived it. It’s not a feeling that comes from this world. It’s a feeling from the bottom of our hearts. Until you know what that means and understand it, you cannot say you love me.’

‘But I do. I feel the exact way you’ve said. And if that’s the way you understand love, then I truly love you,’ Philip said passionately. Monica turned and backed him.

‘Look at my buttocks, Boye. Do you see it filling out my dress? Do you see it as round as a mound? Men do not love a woman for nothing. They always choose where to love, and mostly they choose the woman’s buttocks. They say the beauty of a woman is her backside. I do not have it and you can see I am not a hottie. So you cannot love me,’ Monica said, speaking with a seriousness that was unusual in her. Philip was aghast by her words. To him, what Monica had said was one of the most unreasonable things he had ever heard.

‘I love you, not for anything. I do not want a sexpot. My love is pure. It’s not self-centered. I love you unconditionally. I fell in love with you and not your looks or curves,’ he said, holding her hand, as his eyes filled with passion and tears. ‘I love you, Monica. I truly do,’ he said tearfully. Monica stared at him and her heart softened. And it took a strong self-restraint from her to stop herself from clasping him, kissing him and telling him she was in love with him as well. It was the first time in her life she was seeing a man weep for her. Yet she needed to be certain. The bitter and heart-wrenching experience with Richard and Melvin had taught her graver lessons.

‘Boye, go home and think about what you have said. Then you’ll realize you do not love me,’ she said, as she rose from the bed and walked away from him.

Philip remained in the room pacing up and down, tears welling up in his eyes, while Monica went to the bathroom. When she entered inside, she crouched there, with the disgusting green slimes covering the floor. Yet she cared the least about them as she cried her heart out. She was sorry she had become insensitive and hard-hearted. It was because of the horrible things she had seen and been through. Who would she believe and trust? Her feelings have become obtuse, and now her life was ruled by fear and paranoia, and the bitter lessons of the past that have come to teach her that love was nothing, if it was not guaranteed. It was difficult to see the frame when one was in the picture. These obvious truths have emboldened her and have left her hard-bitten.

After Philip sat on the bed restlessly, with his thought whirling about, he got up and drove home. The rest of his day was sad.

Philip must have had a sleepless and dreamless night; as he woke up in the morning, shocked at how much weight he had lost and how shrunken his chest had become. And he knew it was either because he had worked too hard of late, or because his love for Monica had not been accepted by her. Yet he was not deterred by her lofty and seemingly unreachable estimation of love, or her denial of his deep feelings for her. In fact, he was far more determined to prove himself to her, no matter the costs. When he stared into the mirror that morning, his eyes were bleary and red, like a rat that had been caught by the tail and dashed on the floor; he scrunched up his bulbous red nose, as Monica’s face flashed in the mirror. His imagination of late, had been playing its own stupid tricks on him as well, as he seemed to see her everywhere, and in everything he did these days.

When he drove that morning to her yard, swerving the car and dodging the potholes that filled the dusty roads, his stomach swelled with glee and his face lit-up with glow, as he thought of seeing her face. When he reached Monica’s yard and screeched the tires of his car, with billows of dust rising and filling the air, he was grittier than ever to convince her and prove his endless love.

Monica’s door was slightly ajar when Philip tapped on it gently and pushed it open. Her room was dim, with the electric bulb glowing faintly, and with the strong smell of medicine thick in the air. He looked at the bed and found Monica covered with a thick blanket and shivering. Her teeth chattering noisily and hard, like the clanging of metals. Monica was dead cold. He rushed to her and uncovered the blanket.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked her agitatedly, touching her burning forehead.

‘Boye, I am not sure. After you left, I couldn’t sleep all night. I am perished,’ Monica mumbled, her teeth chattering.

‘I think you’ve malaria. I need to take you to the hospital,’ Philip said restlessly, his voice couched with apprehension. When he dumped the blanket in a corner and carried Monica in his arms to his car, she mumbled ‘KINGS’ HOSPITAL’ to him shrilly.

Philip drove quickly to Kings’ Hospital. It was a big hospital some kilometers away from Monica’s yard. When he joined the nurses to carry her into the ward, Monica could see the obvious worry and pain in his eyes, the anxious sweats that patched his face and the feeble hold of his quivering hands on the stretcher.

‘You cannot go any further, sir,’ a nurse in a sparkly white gown, said to Philip as they reached the ward. ‘Sit over there and we shall attend to her.’ When Philip let go of the stretcher, his piercing eyes fixed on Monica’s sallow face as she was carried into the ward. He slouched on the bench that leaned on the wall, with anxiety creasing his face as he hoped that Monica would soon be all right.

After Monica’s blood was taken for diagnoses, the doctor returned to Philip, who was all too tensed to hear him speak.

‘She’s feeling very weak. But we have put her on a drip. It will help her regain her strength. The result shows she’s having malaria and typhoid. But we shall do other tests, so that we do not leave any stone unturned,’ the doctor said. ‘For the time being, go home and look for money. We do not treat patients without initial deposit.’ Philip wiped his sweaty face and left the hospital, he had some money in his bank account, and he would need to get some to make the deposit. He would do anything for Monica; he would proof his true love for her, and money was the least of the things he would not give up for her.

When Philip returned to the hospital hours later and heard the spooky and piercing screams of Monica from her ward, his face was paler than milk. He dashed into her ward and found Monica hitting the bed, sobbing profusely and kicking out at the nurses.

‘What is happening here?!’ he asked the nurses, nervously, as he quivered in his ruffled and sweaty shirt.

‘Boye, the doctor said I am dying soon. I don’t want to die,’ Monica wept, as mucus seeped from her nose.

‘What?!’ Philip screeched, as his eyes filled with horror. ‘You’ve malaria and typhoid and that does not kill people soon,’ he said to her, holding her hand nervously and staring at the nurses.

‘Has your doctor gone mad?’ he asked the nurses. ‘Where is he?’

‘He’s in his office. He has asked to see you when you return,’ the fine nurse with a spotless face and a cute dimple, said to him. Philip scrambled out of the ward and hurried to the doctor’s office. His knocking on his door was loud and threatening.

‘Do not bring down my door!’ the doctor screeched, as he asked him to come in. ‘This place is a hospital Mr. Philip, and not a psychiatric home.’

‘You should have thought about that when you told her she would die soon!’ Philip said angrily as he sat down on the chair. ‘What mad game are you playing with us?’ he asked the doctor, his red eyes piercing into him. The doctor remained silent, and that made Philip angrier. ‘I am talking to you!’ Philip screamed, banging the table.

‘I will not say a word unless you calm down and behave like a civilized human being,’ the doctor said calmly, adjusting the spectacles that balanced on the bridge of his nose. Philip exhaled and clasped his hands tightly, and wished in that moment that he could leap on the irritating doctor and wring words out of his mouth.

‘Okay, I am calm. You should speak now and stop all these theatricals. I am on pins and needles,’ Philip said tensely.

‘Before now, we thought that… your wife?’ the doctor asked him.

‘No, my friend,’ Philip replied, wishing that Monica was indeed his wife.

‘Oh, your friend?’ the doctor said, ‘we thought she had only malaria and typhoid but other diagnoses show she’s having other problems. Her kidneys are terribly bad. She needs a transplant. And not just that,’ the doctor added, after a light pause.

‘And… what else is wrong with her?’ Philip asked, in a shaky and terrified voice.

‘She also suffers from a psychiatric disorder. It’s called narcissistic personality disorder.’

‘What does that mean? I’ve never heard of that in my whole life.’

‘Our psychiatrists will explain this much better. But it’s a personality disorder that is characterized by an overinflated sense of self-importance, caused largely by an unbalanced parental valuation during childhood. The sufferers often have a very low self-esteem and base all their self-worth and importance on how much attention they get. I’m afraid, but Monica would be a very clingy lover and a constant seeker of love and attention. However, that’s an ailment when you consider it as such,’ the doctor said. Philip was confused and he mulled over a lot of things that pertained to Monica’s behavior and her strange and resolute insistence that he did not love her and how he didn’t truly know what love was about. What the doctor said might be true. However, he was determined not to let anything deter him from proving against all odds that he loved Monica unconditionally, and beyond reasons. If Monica was a clingy lover and a constant seeker of love, then that was the reason he was here. What really bothered him were her kidney failure, and not her strong and natural inclination to be a passionate seeker of love, which the white man in all his wisdom had termed a ‘psychiatric disorder’ and an ailment.

‘This thing about the kidney failure, she has never complained of having urinary problems. It has never been obvious,’ Philip said worryingly.

‘Yes. It might never have been. But so are some diseases or health problems we have. They do not become obvious until we breakdown completely, or have a routine check-up. She’s being living on one kidney. The other one was dead a long time ago. Now the one she’s being living on has broken down as well. It’s a sad situation.’ Philip shifted clumsily on the chair, as cold sweats cascaded down his pale face. His eyes welled up with tears and seeped down his face.

‘I am deeply sorry. But in this situation, you cannot be a weenie. You’ve to take proactive actions, if we must keep her alive. Where are her parents? You need all the help you can get. Having a kidney transplant is expensive,’ the doctor said, rubbing his hands together. Philip wiped the tears in his eyes and determination filled his heart.

‘I do not know her parents or relatives. But I shall ask her. We must not let her die. She just cannot die. What will become of my world? That lady lying there means the world to me,’ Philip said to the doctor. ‘I’ll give my life for her if need be.’

‘I like your guts. When we put love before us in the fight to keep our loved ones, there’s nothing we cannot achieve and overcome. If you let love lead you in this fight, then you shall win,’ the doctor said, touching Philip’s hands. ‘But we need to start immediately. I’ll contact the doctors in India while you prepare the money. Keep five million naira or more. A kidney transplant is expensive.’

‘A kidney transplant is expensive,’ Philip repeated, in an angry tone. ‘I recall you’ve said that before. So stop sounding like a broken record.’

Philip rose exasperatedly from the chair and traipsed out of the doctor’s office. Where in the world would he find such a ludicrous amount of money? His old and jalopy car was worth a few thousands of naira, his clothes and furniture at home were worth a few measly thousands too. Even if he were to sell himself, no one would be willing to pay him more than a few dirty naira notes. He slouched in a corner, and tears prickled his eyes. He cried slowly and bitterly, as the sheer thought of Monica’s agony and the fear of losing her drove him mad. When he cried himself to his fill, releasing all his pain; he walked into Monica’s ward and found her unusually calm. She smiled slowly and weakly when she saw him.

‘Boye,’ she mumbled his name in sheer strength. ‘Do not worry about me. I am now strong enough to take it. At least, I shall die in peace knowing you fought for me, and that you stayed by my side. I love you, Boye. I want to die in your arms. Please take me home and let me find peace in my death and in your loving arms,’ she said to him.

‘Do not speak in that manner. You shall not die! I shall not let you die. We shall stay together, healthy and happy and grow old together. I will give my life for you, and do all in my might to make you whole again,’ Philip said, sobbing and remembering that Monica had just confessed her love for him too; he clasped her clammy hands.

‘I love you, Boye,’ Monica repeated, smiling weakly. ‘But what can you do? You cannot cry for the moon. My parents are no more. My relatives do not think I am alive. No one will help you keep me alive. If not for you, I am alone in this world.’ Philip did not speak any more words. When he unclasped Monica’s hand and stormed out of the ward, he walked straight back into the doctor’s office.

‘Please take my kidneys and give them to her,’ he said to him in a somber lilt, as he faced the doctor. The doctor stared at his red face steadily, and then placed the files in his hand on the table.

‘Are you sure of what you’re asking for?’ he asked him.

‘Of course, I’ve never been surer. I will give my life for her and damn the expense! I cannot let her die,’ Philip said grittily, as strength flashed in his green eyes.

‘Okay… if you say so. But we have to check to see if you’ve a matching kidney. Also, I must remind you that the operation is a fifty-fifty chance. There’s room for error, and a person could die in the process,’ the doctor said, looking at Philip’s pale face and searching for any nuance of fear and hesitation, but Philip’s face remained steely blank.

‘It’s okay, doctor. If something goes wrong with me, do me a favor and tell her how much I love her. Just do your absolute best and save her. If I don’t see her in this world anymore, I shall see her someday, on the other side,’ Philip said calmly and bravely.

‘It’s okay. I shall tell her your wish and do my best as you’ve said. But I would advise you go and start putting together the money for the operation, while you prepare your mind as well for anything. Tomorrow, we shall take you into the theatre. Just keep an open mind and remain brave as you’ve shown,’ the doctor finished, exhaling.

When Philip turned his back and walked out of his office, the doctor’s stare at him was unflinching as he trudged into Monica’s ward. He kissed her on the cheek, and told her that everything would soon be all right. Monica smiled weakly but sweetly, and placed Philip’s hand on her chest.