Chapter 11: Chapter 11
The soulful music from the stereo player in Frank’s bedroom delighted him. The air-conditioner blowing in the cold air room blended with the music. Frank lay on the bed, bobbing his head rhythmically to the sound of the music.
The past few days have been bittersweet. The wave of sorrow that consumed him was still to vanish. But for the moment, he was feeling better. Martha had given him the reason to feel so. She had brought his dream within a touching distance. Now it was the case of the nearer the bone, the sweeter the meat. He loved her fiercely, and would greatly miss her when she goes to the convent. Still the pain would pass. Time heals all wounds. Martha had been away for a few weeks. She had gone on a brief vacation abroad. She was to have a great time; after which she would prepare for the life ahead of her. Miriam had gone with her. She had insisted that she needed to be with her daughter now that she had the chance to, as Martha would soon become her child only in words, but not in reality.
The music on the stereo stopped. Frank rose from the bed and sighed. He would have repeated the song, but he had done that four times already. He needed to see Prophet Hezekiah. He would go over to Stan’s and tell him to drive him to the prophet’s so he would tell him his decision. He went to the wardrobe and brought out his brown suit and smelled it. There was no smell of mustiness. It had been long since he wore the suit. He spread it on the bed and brought out the white shirt, neatly ironed and starched. He spread it next to it and studied the creases on it. They were still intact. He nodded his head and entered the bathroom. He returned from the bathroom smelling sweetly, the scent of the soap, thick in the air. He combed his hair, powdered his face and wore the clothes on the bed and strolled down the stairs.
The Mercedes car roared to life as he drove out of the compound and into the busy road. He looked in front of him and groaned at the traffic jam. The congestion on Convenant road was almost a normalcy. He remained in the traffic, fuming and waiting until the cars slowly began to crawl. He took the next bend and drove into Williams’ Road where it was free. He sped through the road and reached a police checkpoint, and one of the men waved him down. He looked at the cement bags filled with sand and piled on each other, forming a wall and encircling the policemen. The policeman came closer, his gun in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He drew from it, puffing the smoke in the air. Then he threw the stub on the ground and squashed it with his feet. He was certain the man would ask for his papers, instead, the policeman looked at him and smiled.
‘My boss!’ the policeman screamed, ‘I didn’t know it was you. Please forgive me, sah! All clear! You can go!’ Frank smiled and dunked a crumpled naira note in his hand. He knew what the ingratiating man wanted. The men were not law enforcement officers, they were lickspittles.
Frank increased his speed, leaving the policemen in the dust. He looked out of the window and a scrappy tricycle was hurtling beside him. The thick fumes oozing from the tricycle filled the air. At the back of the tricycle were words written in red paint: ‘A CHANGED MAN, CHANGES MEN.’ He stared at the thin looking driver and throttled past him. In front of him were heaps of refuse, piling to the heavens. Creamy-fat maggots dripping from the wastes crawled around the place, with flies buzzing. A rancid stench hung thick in the air. Frank held his breathe, and turned onto the left the street. He was now at Stan’s.
Stan was busy with work that morning, when Frank knocked on his door.
‘Who’s there?’ Stan growled. ‘Did I not say I’ll not see anyone this morning?’ Frank remained silent for a few minutes and knocked again on the door.
‘Leave at once!’ Stan barked this time.
‘Come on, Stan! It’s me, Frank,’ Frank said.
‘Frank? You must be kidding me,’ Stan said, rising from the chair. ‘Please come in, you didn’t tell me you’d be coming around.’
‘You barked so hard. Is this how you speak to the nurses here?’ Frank asked him as he entered the office. Stan stared at him and shrugged.
‘Please sit down. There’s so much work and I need time to deal with them,’ Stan said. Frank sat down on the armchair and looked around Stan’s office. There was a table at the corner.
‘What do you do with that table?’ he asked Stan, pointing at it.
‘Is that why you are here?’ Stan replied, arching his brows. ‘The table is for diagnostic purposes.’
‘That’s not true!’ Frank said teasingly, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘You and I know there is more to it.’
‘I don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve to go straight to the point and stop skirting around,’ Stan replied.
‘An old woman is always uneasy when dry bones are mentioned in a proverb. Your reaction confirms my suspicions. We know what randy doctors do with some nurses and patients.
‘Maybe in other hospitals, not here,’ Stan replied.
‘Who are we going to ask then?’ Frank said suggestively. ‘If the lizard of the homestead neglects to do the things for which its kind is known for, then we shall mistake it for the lizard of the farmlands. You cannot be different from your kind,’ Frank said, smiling.
‘I see you’ve come to know if I sleep with my nurses and patients. You’re a curious man. However, you should remember that it is curiosity that killed the cat,’ Stan replied, staring at Frank.
‘Well, I am not here to pry into your seedy affairs. I’ve come to ask you to take me to Hezekiah,’ Frank said, after a light pause.
‘Have you decided on what to do?’ Stan asked him.
‘Yes, Martha has agreed to become a nun,’ Frank said softly.
‘She agreed to it on her own accord?’ Stan asked with dismay in his eyes.
‘Yes. Initially, she didn’t give it a thought. But after she slept over it for a few days, she agreed,’ Frank replied.
‘You’re a fortunate man to have such a selfless daughter. None of my daughters would agree to that,’ Stan said, as he rose from his chair, shut his office and clumped down the stairs with Frank.
They drove out of the hospital and into the busy road to see Prophet Hezekiah. They talked and joked as they drove, and soon they were at the prophet’s. They sat on the chair, outside his office waiting to see him. It was the man’s day of prophecy, and several people had come to see him. They waited patiently, talking about politics and the precarious state of the nation. And soon it was their turn. As they entered the sweet-smelling office, Prophet Hezekiah rose from his chair with a warm smile and shook hands with them.
‘How is life treating you?’ he asked Stan, as he sat on the chair.
‘Life’s being fair, except for hunger. We are grateful no one has died. The patronage at the hospital is poor these days,’ Stan said, sighing.
‘The patronage is poor?’ Prophet Hezekiah asked, narrowing his eyes. ‘You want a lot of sick people on your hands? Be careful of what you wish for. Remember that the doctor who invokes a storm on his people cannot prevent his own house from destruction.’
‘That’s true, but even the man that makes coffins also prays to sell them,’ Stan said, smiling.’
‘You’re right,’ Prophet Hezekiah said, nodding his head.
‘How are you and the family?’ he asked Frank, as he turned to him.
‘We’re fine. I’ve come to tell you what we’ve decided. We’ve agreed to do as you counselled,’ Frank replied.
‘That’s good,’ Prophet Hezekiah said. ‘What you are doing looks hard, but it’s the most crooked wood that makes the best sculptor. When we show the Lord that we’re not afraid to please him he shows us he’s not unwilling to bless us.’
‘It is true. Martha has accepted to do it for the family,’ Frank said calmly.
‘You have done well. I believe the task of choosing from either of your daughters was very hard. I know this because I am a father, and both daughters are precious to you. As the archer loves the arrow that flies, so does he love the bow that remains in his hands,’ Prophet Hezekiah said. Frank stared at Prophet Hezehiah and his gleaming beards; the man’s fondness for speaking in proverbs impressed him.
‘We’ve decided that Martha should become a nun,’ Frank said.
‘That is a good way to serve the Lord,’ Hezekiah replied, nodding his head. I know your wife must be heartbroken, not to talk of your daughter. If the fly on top of the palm-wine calabash say it is drunk, what will the fly inside the calabash say?’
‘I know the Lord will grant us our heart desires,’ Frank said, as he thrust his hand in his pocket and handed Prophet Hezekiah a cheque. The prophet’s eyes widened as he stared at the cheque.
‘Do not see it as payment for your counsel, but as a contribution to God’s work,’ Frank said, smiling.
‘But… this is an incredible amount of money!’ Prophet Hezekiah stammered.
‘Do not bother about it. My father always said when we do a good deed we must throw it into the sea. It’s nothing. What can we offer to the Lord that will be sufficient?’ Frank said.
‘Kneel let me bless you,’ Prophet Hezekiah said, rising from the chair. He said a short prayer and anointed Stan and Frank’s heads with the olive oil on his table. ‘The Lord will show you a token of his goodness and those that hate you shall see it and be ashamed.’ He shook hands with them and Frank and Stan rose to leave.