Chapter 17: Chapter 17

When Philip lumbered into the hospital the next brilliant morning and walked into the doctor’s office and handed him the crisp naira notes, half a million naira, the doctor struggled to conceal the disbelief in his bulging eyes.

It’s all I could raise. It’s all I have. Please save her!’ Philip implored him in a quivering voice. The doctor pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, looked at the money and ran his fingers across the shiny notes.

‘You have done well, but you and I know this will not be enough to save her,’ he said to him insouciantly, after a fleeting silence.

‘Maybe, but it’s all I could put together. I sold my little car, all the electronic gadgets in my house, my clothes and shoes and other valuables I have. I’ve nothing left,’ Philip replied frustratingly. Sweats patched his face and underarms. The doctor exhaled and pushed the money back to him.

‘You need to go over to the cashier and make the deposit. You cannot pay the money to me,’ he said, looking up to Philip.

‘All right, I will. But are you starting the treatments afterwards? I came for the operation,’ Philip said; his voice etched with desperation.

‘Which one?’ the doctor asked him, somewhat absent-mindedly.

‘The one with me; you said you’ll take my kidney and give it to her. You said you’ll do that today,’ Philip said, staring into the doctor’s eyes. The doctor looked into Philip’s scrawny face and his green eyes, his unshaven grey beards looked unkempt and scruffy; and it made him look older than he really was.

‘I am sorry. We shall not be performing any operation on you,’ he said casually, after a light pause.

‘Why?’ Philip asked, wide-eyed.

‘Because we’ve to be sure you’ve a matching kidney. Also we cannot perform the operation here. We’ll have to fly both of you overseas to the doctors in India. They are the experts, the ones that will check if your kidney matches hers, and perform the operations on both of you. And of course, because you still need more money to make that happen,’ the doctor said bluntly.

‘But… you did not say all these yesterday,’ Philip spluttered.

‘Yes. I lied,’ the doctor said, tapping the table gently.

‘Do you think this is a joke?!’ Philip huffed, banging the table. The doctor remained unmoved on his chair as was now his nature, and then folded his arms across his breasts. And after hemming and hawing, with the silence brooding and irritating to the red-eyed Philip, he spoke to him calmly and unperturbedly.

‘Maybe I think so,’ he said to him levelly. ‘Come with me.’ The doctor rose from his chair sluggishly, and Philip followed him closely and confusedly, with the strong sense of foreboding clutching his throat.

Monica was sitting on the bed, with her legs crossed and her face was shimmering with a fresh make-up, when they entered her new ward. Philip was shell-shocked. His eyes bulged in their sockets like he had seen a ghost. Monica was smiling sweetly at him.

‘Come, Boye. It’s me. It’s Monica. I am completely well now,’ she said, rising from the bed to clasp him in her arms. The doctor stood at the corner with a beautiful nurse, smiling at the startled Philip.

‘But… you’re supposed to be terribly sick. You’re supposed to be lying there,’ Philip spluttered confusedly, pointing at the slope bed.

‘Yes. I was supposed to be lying there, but am not. I am completely healed now. My love, come and kiss me and take me home,’ Monica said excitedly.

‘Not until I know what this charade is about,’ Philip said, with palpable shock scrawled all over his creased face. Monica stared at the doctor and he walked over to Philip. And after a long silence, he spoke to him.

‘Yes. Monica was sick. But she had only malaria and typhoid. She had no kidney failure or psychiatric disorder. That was all a ruse and test,’ the doctor said gently. Philip’s eyes widened theatrically, as tentacles of pain and fury closed round his body; he reached out quickly to hit the doctor on the face, but Monica quickly stood between them.

‘What kind of a silly game is this?!’ Philip howled. ‘Do you all think I am some piece of wood without feelings? Do you know what I’ve been through and all I’ve had to sell because of this stupid game?!’

‘You’ve given your all for love and for me. But is there anything too big to sacrifice for the ones we love?’ Monica asked him as she stared deeply into his eyes and imagined the pain and anger he would be feeling, that could make his beautiful and greenish eyes to become so red in such a swift moment. ‘You must know I can do ten times over, all you’ve done for me. And I will never count the costs. Because I will do it all with happiness and it would mean nothing, absolutely nothing to me. I really love you. You’ve proven yourself and your love for me. All I’ve ever dreamed of is a lover who would do anything for me without counting the costs, and that love alone is all I’ve desperately wanted. You’re my lifesaver; you’re that lover who can give everything for me. So my love for you will never count the costs and the sacrifices,’ she said to him passionately, teary-eyed.

‘When we love and it’s pure and true, it does not come from this world. We throw away all our human limitations, imperfections and proclivities and we take on the nature of God,’ the doctor said, supporting. The calming words left Philip helpless and sedated.

‘What you have done may seem clever and foolproof to you. But to me, it is wrong and weaseling. My love for you did not need this kind of proof. When someone deeply loves you, they may not even need to say it, you can know and feel it by the way they treat you. Haven’t I treated you well enough for you to see and feel my true and unblemished love for you?’ Philip asked.

‘Perhaps I should not have. But I was confused. I needed to see if you’d run away or abandon me like many of the men I’ve met and loved in the past. I’ve been through a lot of pain and betrayals, all for the sake of love. Anyone who has been bitten by a snake will be wise to run away at the sight of an earthworm. I could not have taken chances anymore with you. As a hymnist said, our earthly friends may fail us and change with changing years. I needed to be sure of you. I needed to put you through a test. I could not have taken all you said as Holy Writ.’

There were tears in her eyes as she stared into Philip’s green eyes. She wondered how long she would have stood him, fought him, or shut him out of her life. Philip had been banging on the door of her heart unrelentingly, fiercely and even violently. She was sure, more than anything else that her walls were bound to fall and her heart was certain to be won and to love again. But she was far grateful that Philip did not know he had won the game even before it started. The nurse at the corner was crying and staring at them with love-filled eyes.

‘What about the treatments and all the injections? Were they all part of the plan?’ Philip asked.

‘They were real medicines as we treated her of malaria and typhoid. But the ones for the kidney failure were placebos,’ the doctor said, smiling triumphantly.

‘You’re a drama queen. A big-time actress,’ Philip said to Monica.

‘I agree. But every woman you know is an actress. Some just happen to be clever enough to act and get paid,’ Monica said, looking at Philip adoringly.

‘Doctor, you fooled yourself and not me,’ Philip said teasingly. ‘And if you smile so proudly like that I will hit you in the face.’ There was a boisterous laughter in the ward.

‘There will be no need for that when I give you back your money. Monica has paid the bills,’ the doctor replied, still smiling.

When Philip ran his hand smoothly on Monica’s shiny face and their eyes locked together in a strong stare, the doctor and the nurse walked out of the ward. And when he closed the door and heard their lips squelching, he knew that that was what was next on the consummated script. The sleekness and spontaneity of their kiss left the doctor infatuated. It showed how inseparable and deeply in love they have become.

When Philip took all his money back from the doctor, and he and Monica left the hospital after some brief hugs and words of admonition from him, he asked to take Monica to her yard.

‘No,’ Monica said. ‘We shall not be going there anymore. We shall be going to a hotel for a good time together.’

‘And what about all your belongings?’ he asked her, surprised.

‘You don’t need to bring sand to the beach. We already have all we’d ever need. The things over there are the relics of our past. We do not need them anymore,’ she said, with an unusual air of confidence. ‘I heard you sold your car?’

‘You heard, or you know?’ Philip asked her.

‘They mean the same thing,’ Monica replied, smiling and kissing him on the cheek. ‘You need to have a good shave and eat some good food. You look thin and old.’

‘I look worse. All thanks to your trouble and test,’ Philip said, rubbing his nose.

When the clapped out taxi Monica waved down screeched in front of them and they sat at the backseat, Monica could not take her busy hands off Philip’s body. She was groping him, and Philip was finding her naughtiness thrilling and a bit reckless. They lodged in a plush hotel and Philip was shocked at Monica’s extravagance. When he made to ask her from where all the money was coming from, she brushed the question aside and told him to mind his business.

That glorious night, after Philip shaved and they had a good meal at the hotel’s restaurant, they had their bathe together, giggling in the shower, the room glowing with a faint red light, with the air-conditioned air smelling of a great fragrance. Monica clasped Philip in her arms and pressed him against her body, her firm breasts and dark brown nipples rubbing against his bare, hairy chest; she stared deeply into his green eyes and thought of how much she loved him; how happy she had suddenly become; how fair, beautiful and complete her life had become; how there was always light at the end of the tunnel; and of course, how true it was that fortune always favoured the brave.

‘You look handsome now, my love,’ she whispered to him. ‘I’ve been dreaming of this moment. Finding you has made my dream come true. By passing my test you have restored my faith in love and in human nature. Thank you for being my man, for coming to this loveless world and for loving me.’ Monica’s voice was passionate, musical and soft as wool and Philip could feel the warmth and thrill of it.

‘It had to be you and no one else. I’ll walk through the fire for you. I’ll do anything for you. And when I say I love you, I mean every bit of it,’ Philip said breathlessly, making a light pause, as the splattering sound of water from the faucet in the bathroom filled the silent room. ‘You look absolutely ravishing tonight,’ he continued; this time with a voice couched with intense passion.

Monica increased the volume of the TV, Ed Sheeran’s THINKING OUT LOUD was showing, and his sensual and vibrantly male voice, was wafting in the air of the dim room.

‘If I look ravishing, it’s all because of you. It’s all for you. I’m delighted to be all yours,’ Monica replied. She pressed Philip harder to her body, and gently began to push him towards the cozy bed. When he lay flat on his back and she climbed astride him and dumped his shorts and her see-through nightgown in a corner, with them forming an amorphous heap on the floor, Philip knew in that moment that words were grandiose and superfluous.

Monica felt Philip’s mouth limply enclose her nipple; then it tightened, as he bit her gently, offering her delicious bites. She slipped into delirium as shocks of pleasure coursed through her body, waves after waves, in one fluid arc. And in sheer gratitude, she rode Philip in slow and gentle motions, with his soft moaning and raspy breath, showing he was totally lost in the ocean of bliss and something close to sheer grace. Monica’s passionate and energetic lovemaking was incredibly good. Philip was both surprised and overwhelmed by her indulgent moans and artful movements; he was drowned in the raw pleasure and ocean of her sweet love and relentless energy.

The next morning when they woke from each other’s arms, after the blissful lovemaking of the previous night, the wan gleam of the morning sun filled the room with shadows. Philip looked down from the tall building through the window and was shocked to see the bodyguards and fleet of expensive cars that parked close to the window of their hotel room.

‘It appears the governor is in this hotel,’ he told Monica, as he kissed her good morning.

‘There’s no governor here,’ she told him quietly. ‘Boye, pack all your things. Those men will be driving us home.’

‘Which home? You mean your yard?’ Philip asked her confusedly.

‘I know that look in your eyes,’ Monica said to him, smiling. ‘You must be thinking what I’m up to now. But are you not guilty of the same thing? Everyone has a secret; it just happens that some know how to hide it better than others. Don’t worry. You’ll soon know everything,’ she added, as she strolled into the bathroom; her sparkling white towel draping from her luscious breasts to her lean waist. Philip stared at her intensely, loving the malleability and the lean grace of her waist.

When Helen called Monica on the phone that bright morning, she spoke to her with cheeriness and glitter in her eyes. She told her she was on the brink of coming back home, not empty-handed but with the prize. Helen was overjoyed. And all through the journey, as Philip watched the cars that nosed on the roads and swooshed past them, he was confused about the goings-on. The mansion the cars entered and stopped in Lagos was the most magnificent edifice Philip had ever seen in his life. The gate was gleaming with the touch of gold. Bodyguards and maids clumped close, with smiling faces welcoming and bowing to Monica and jostling to shake her hand, as the tires of the cars screeched on the hard floor and wheezed out. Monica climbed down from the car and shook hands with them briskly and hugged a few of them.

‘This is home, sweet home,’ she said to the surprised Philip, who was still speechless and awestruck. Helen ran out of the house and embraced Monica, kissing her profusely and wetting her face with her cheery tears. She unclasped her and walked slowly to Philip and smiled sweetly at him.

‘I know everything,’ she said to him, as she shook his hand and hung a beautiful garland on his neck. When they walked inside the plush living room, Philip’s eyes were filled with glee and amazement; still he felt it was best to wait for Monica till when it would be best to ask her what all this luxury and fragrant display of wealth was all about. They sat on the dining table, filled with plenty of food and drinks and as Monica uncovered the spicy chicken and the delicious aroma filled the air, she turned and stared at Philip adoringly, with that glint of love-filled eyes.

‘From today to the day I draw my last breath, you shall eat with me on this table and have my meal and mead forever,’ she said softly, with Helen smiling and overly glad that she was on the cusp of losing her most precious thing in the world to Philip.

‘And I shall love you even when there’s no meal and mead on your table,’ Philip replied, holding Monica’s hands, as he imagined how his life was on the cusp of making an unexpected turn for the best. He had suddenly been thrust into the life of luxury and sheer opulence, fame and splendour. Not by sheer luck and not because he lusted after them or really wished for them but because he had loved without reasons and had merely followed his heart and true love. To him, the true lesson of life was learned, and it was the one that true love and happiness was all that mattered. They were worth more than riches. But they were also the wealth that would never end. The reality before him was too unreal to contemplate; it was like the fairytale stories, the Alice in Wonderland; and the one fictional rags to riches story of Cinderella that turned out to be true, not for anyone else in the fictional world but for him.

After they ate the scrumptious food and the maids set out to clear the table, Helen led Monica by the hand into her sweet-scenting bedroom. She sat her on the soft bed and stared gaily into her eyes.

‘Your quest has really been interesting. I’m very glad you finally found your diamond in the rough. He’s very handsome and he deeply loves you. I’ll say you’re incredibly blessed and fortunate. Yes, very so. How many women in the world marry the one man that is made for them that they truly love?’ Helen asked, with an unusual glimmer in her eyes. ‘A lot of women just marry the men that are ready and available.’

‘Yes Mom. You’re right about that. I am fortunate because I deserve it. Boye is a diamond in the rough, but still a diamond. I thought Richard was the same. I cleaned him up and made him who he is. But I was wrong about him. He was no diamond at all,’ Monica said churlishly. ‘I know that Boye is very handsome, but I am extremely delighted that once in my life, that I’ve found a man whose good look is not pompous and deceiving.’

‘What plans do you have to tie him down quickly? You know he’s the best, and the only man for you,’ Helen said. Monica smiled again lovingly, and ran her hand slowly on her flat stomach, puckering her coloured lips.

‘Mom, actually, I know he’s the best. But I am the best as well. I don’t deserve anything less. Every best deserves the best. I am hoping his child is already nestling inside of me. That way, I’ll quickly tie him to myself eternally,’ she said to Helen, winking at her, as they burst out laughing hysterically, just as the sweet-smelling scent of the Lilacs behind Helen’s window filled the room.

‘I hope you’ll remember to go there? The best place I had the loveliest moment with your father,’ Helen asked her.

‘How can I forget that? Lake Como, Italy? I’m there already with my Boye,’ Monica said. There was another lively laughter in the room after which there was a fleeting silence.

‘What’s that altar at the corner?’ Monica asked Helen breaking the stillness.

‘I had it set up after you left. I prayed there for you every day. I asked the Lord to fill you with patience and endurance. I knew you needed them the most to succeed. You know as they say, patience is bitter but its fruits are sweet. With patience and endurance, you can conquer anything.’

‘That’s true, Mom. It’s why we say patience is a virtue. But those figurines, what are they?’ Helen stared at Monica, surprised that she could ask her such a ludicrous question.

‘There are not mere figurines. That is the Lord, Jesus Christ, and the Blessed Virgin Mary. It’s okay if you call her “Madonna.” She intercedes for us,’ Helen said.

‘And those pictures, are they really Jesus and Mary?’

‘I am not entirely sure they are. But it reflects them. It’s the belief, the faith in our hearts that makes them real,’ Helen replied.

Monica bobbed her head slowly, like the red-headed lizard and stared at the seeming picture of Jesus Christ. She imagined Him, God as he is, leaving his golden throne and the unimaginable beauty and splendour of heaven and coming into this cruel world in the form of man and passing through pains, the scorn and humiliations of heartless men like: Richard, Melvin and Danny and dying like a common thief on the cross to save mankind and restore the glory of heaven. His act, though, was not very different from hers. She too had taken a leap of faith. A step backwards, in order to take two steps forwards. She had suffered and demeaned herself and lived in the slumps, a boggy place, a robber’s den, a paradise for mosquitoes and felt the pangs of mistreatments like every other commoner, just to find Philip − her one and true lover.

On the whole, it was clear that after she had happily married Philip in that idyllic and high-profile wedding that will be filled with so much cheeriness, elegance, and splendour and they have had those beautiful children with his green eyes and her curly hairs, they will travel and see the world and all its beautiful things, places and nature. And when they sit on that beautiful lake, with the birds twittering on slender coconut trees, breathing the pristine scent of the blue water, with gentle breeze blowing on their beautiful faces, as they laugh in the yellow morning sun, she would tell her children that everything good will come to those that dare and wait; and the fairytale of how she met their sweet father, an angel in human form, in an uncommon place and manner after a long-drawn battle with heartbreaks, betrayals and suffering. But most importantly, she would not forget to tell them how she added lustre to the love story, by brilliantly following the edifying and humble step of Jesus Christ, and the comedic but didactic play of Oliver Goldsmith’s immortal book, and stooped to conquer.