THE COLOUR OF GRIEF // SHORT STORY BY IKECHUKWU HENRY
The two jerky gallops of the Mercedes Benz he was in, maneuvering through the potholes of the sweltering Onitsha road, leading to Ọbá Anambra, reminded Freddy of the last moment his wife spent on earth. The juxtaposition of the car's movements with the memory of his wife's convulsions made his heart ache, a painful parallel between past and present. Her jerky movements, her chest heaving rapidly which he had thought would cast the oxygen mask beside her head off the hospital bed, or her hand that was constricted around his as she convulsed, extended his tears, his grief lingering like a haunting echo.
“Freddy, I want to go. I'm getting tired.” her voice was getting frailer, almost dulled by the squeaking hospital bed she lay on, the words a whisper that carried the weight of her fatigue, a plea for release from her suffering.
“Let me call the doctor,” Freddy mused, caressing her hand, his touch a soothing balm amidst the turmoil. He scanned her, his eyes tracing the contours of her fragile form, his heart heavy with the knowledge of her pain. Despite his efforts, tears cascaded down his cheeks, a testament to his helplessness and sorrow. He knew it was frivolous to tell her to hang on for their children while awaiting an appropriate donor for a heart transplant. A promise that held no triumph, a promise burdened by the harsh reality of their situation.
Freddy viewed Temi’s eyes dilated, her shaky hand finally began to tranquil, and he thought the IV drip stuck in her vein seemed to be shrinking, a visual representation of her fading strength. He sobbed, even when the door creaked open, feet pattering inside in haste, the sound a dissonance against the backdrop of his grief. He sobbed, clasping his palms to his face when he heard that a donor had been found. Of what use now she had left, leaving him to cater for their two children? The irony of the situation cut through his heart like a knife, a bitter truth he could hardly bear.
“Dad, when will mum come back?” a three-year-old tiny voice assailed his thoughts, the innocence of the question a stark contrast to the weight of his emotions. Freddy stifled his sobs, scrubbing off the tears on his cheek, thankfully the traffic was still heavy, a shield that concealed his vulnerability.
“Soon, baby,” he replied to his daughter EriOluwa, his words a gentle reassurance amidst the storm of uncertainty, a promise that held a glimmer of hope. EriOluwa's gaze, captured in the rearview mirror, reflected the curiosity of a child trying to understand the complexities of life, her innocence a stark reminder of the purity that exists amidst pain. Beside her, her brother Tobe's gaze was outside the car, his contemplative expression mirroring the weight of their circumstances, his young mind grappling with the profound changes that had taken place.
He cocked his car alive, trailing the line of cars in front of him as merry Christmas songs clothed the air, the music a fleeting distraction from the heaviness in his heart, a melody that carried a touch of nostalgia amidst the chaos.
Fredrick missed home. He missed those ceremonial moments of watching the masquerades parading their community center, his nostalgia a thread that wove through his thoughts, a longing for the past that held a piece of his heart. Those times when the chilly early morning wind wouldn't have an effect on him and his playmates’ disheveled bodies, the memories a tapestry of camaraderie and innocence. On those nights during Christmas, they played under the receding moon and the glow of white bulbs from various houses, their laughter a testament to the joy of youth. Of those times when a mini whirlwind would materialize, upheaving nylons, tore papers, and any light objects in the air, a natural phenomenon that felt like a whisper of magic, a moment of enchantment amidst the ordinary, or smearing their bodies with red dust while they played the game chase called Ororo, the red dust a badge of honor, a mark of their youthful adventures.
But the serenity of their compound as he swerved seemed to be raining with noise, the contrast between memory and reality stark. Full of little children clustering in front of the bungalow building, their presence a testament to the cycle of life, a reminder that even amidst loss, life continues to bloom. His heart quickened with anticipation, a mixture of emotions churning within him. The car beeped off in front of a gray-painted bungalow, the familiar sight a touchstone to his past.
Freddy stared at the pavement, brimming with his family whose eyes gawked in curiosity, their collective gaze a reflection of the changes that had taken place in his absence. The sense of returning to a place once so familiar and yet now foreign weighed heavy on his heart, a bittersweet feeling that tugged at his emotions.
“Dad, is it here you grew up?” Tobe, his five-year-old son asked, his innocence a stark reminder of the passage of time, the realization that his childhood home was once his father's abode.
“Dad is mum here?” Eric shook hers, her question a poignant reminder of the absence that lingered, the void left behind by his wife's departure. He grunted, mumbling inaudibly while unbuckling his seatbelt, his actions a reflection of the complexity of his emotions. A fresh sense of renewal washed over him as he alighted, succoring his daughter out from the car, his touch a gesture of protection and love. He peered at Tobe alighting as he stood before the building like one seeing the world for the first time, his son's gaze a mirror reflecting his own sense of wonder and uncertainty. Who knows? Thousands of questions awaited him, his journey forward shrouded in the unknown, and he needed to brace himself for the inevitable, his resolve a testament to his determination to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.
Author
Ikechukwu Henry is an Igbo- born, Nigerian writer, who believes his dreams could be turned into words through writing. He was 2024 PROFWIC Valentine's Day Writing Contest Shortlisted writer and Sevhage Prize longlisted for fiction 2023. His works have appeared/, forthcoming in The Candid Review, World Voice Magazine, Ta Adesa and others. All his babies can be found here: ( https://linktr.ee/ikechukwuhenry01)
He tweets @Ikechukwuhenry_