Harrowed Fate

EPISODE 05: The Reckoning. I.

The cuffs click shut around Stanley’s wrists, he winces with his gaze intently fixed on Lola. She knelt there still, motionless, streams of tears coursing down her face unrestrained. Her world had crumbled before her eyes and so had her legs, even as the police escorted her brother out the vestibules, she could not seem to find the strength to stand, even if it were to save him. Nothing seemed to matter. Her life could as well end, she thought; looking on as Clara held Francis to her bosom, helping him recline on the stretcher that had been provided by two placidly dressed nurses. As the nurses wheeled Francis past her into one of the wards, she finds Clara’s gaze preening back at her with resentful scorn mired in a slight glint of derisive grin.

The scene in its nightmarish setting aptly depicted with the brazenness of the enemy she once called friend made her heart go numb, and in that moment as the impulse of indignation pushed strongly against her chest, she wished she still had the gun within her grasp, for once, she felt the nefarious rage to exact vengeance, regardless of the price it bore. But the police had taken custody of the gun as part of evidence and all she could wrought to feed her fury was clench her fist, it was the most she could manage for her helpless estate. All was lost, she concluded, relaxing her head resignedly against the wall.

“Madam…madam,” a gentle voice distinctly called, breaking the mold of her despondent spirits. She looks up askance at the nurse, who has now leaned over, she looks on with indifference as if to ask; “what more terrible tidings could you bear to perfectly summarize this disastrous morning…?”

“Your daughter is awake,” the nurse declared. The words felt like potent doses of elixirs reviving her from within, the tragedies of the morning had interwoven to cast an overwhelming heap of sadness on her heart that the unexpected news of Tolu’s consciousness suddenly filled her with renewed vigor --- a blinding beam of light forcing its way through obscurity. Quickly, she scrambled to find her feet and doing so, she raced down the hall to Tolu’s ward, not waiting to hear more of what technical information the nurse might have been primed to give. Her heart leapt with seamless relief as she ecstatically made for the ward.

She pushes through the door but did not go in at once, she stands a fleeting moment at the entrance relishing her surreal fortune until Tolu’s gaze met hers; the latter’s eyes were half-shut but she could see the maiden’s eyelids bat and that would suffice to reassure her for now. She wipes off the lonely tear that had unwittingly slid down her cheek and moves closer to sit by the young woman’s side on the bed, holding her hand as she stared with affectionate awe. It was selfish of her to have believed all was lost, she mused. All would truly have been lost, if her gems were taken away, they are about the only thing keeping her alive; her inspiration of strength, she continued in thought, looking over to Bola, who remains shielded from the bane of recent atrocious events, insulated in the ignorance that sleep and juvenescence allow.

“Don’t cry, mom…I’ll be fine.” Tolu softly whispered, seeing as her mother sobbed in the loneliness of her reflection.
“Yes, darling. I know you will be. I am just so glad you are alright, I thought I lost you,” she retorted through sobs and sniffs.
“I will be alright, we will be fine. But no tears, mom. Please.” Lola obeys and promptly clasps both palms on her face. 

Tolu’s words reverberated as she dried her eyes; would they indeed be ‘fine’? Tolu’s treatments must have racked up quite the bill, how’s she to pay? Even if they do escape the snares of medical fees, how would the three of them manage without any savings, she cannot in all sanity go back to Francis --- where would she begin? Her troubling thoughts were starting to build into another string of sobs when a woman in lab coat, holding a stethoscope peers into the ward, leading in a train of two gentlemen and a lady.

The gentlemen were John and Mr. Uwaifo or Oga Landlord as they often called him; they had returned to learn of Tolu’s progress as they promised they would. The lady was no acquaintance of both men nor was she any friend of Lola’s but she seemed to have the confidence of the two gentlemen whom she trailed.
“Good afternoon, madam Lola,” John began, brandishing half a grin.“How’s she? I can see she’s awake now.”
“Yes, she came to, over an hour ago but she’s trying to rest now.” Lola quipped, glancing at Tolu as she answered.
“Well, actually she is stable, now. She just needs to eat and rest, then the healing can start. The woman in white interjected after conducting a satisfactory respiratory function test.
“Thank you, doctor. I’ll be coming to your office soon,” Lola intimated, unsure of what that meeting would yield.

“Madam, I know you don’t know me. I’m Mrs. Farida, I was there when your brother got arrested, this morning,” the stranger started after waiting unavailingly to be introduced. Even now, she was interrupted by Mr. Uwaifo; who was genuinely startled by that last bit of news.

“Stanley?! Why?!” He posed.
“Oga Landlord, it’s a long story. We’ll talk about it later. Please madam, go on.” Lola urged.

“As a woman, it was disheartening to have witnessed such outrageous scenes as occurred, this morning. I don’t need to be told the story, I know it. I have lived it myself and I had vowed since, never to let any woman within my reach suffer the same fate I did. It was why I asked the doctor to bring me to you and on our way here, we met Mr John and Mr. Uwaifo, I explained my intentions to them and they in turn said little about you out of respect for your privacy…Madam, I lead a Rights For Women Organization, it’s a non-profit that fights for the protection and fundamental rights of women in abusive marriages and relationships. Men, like your husband deserve to be held culpable for their monstrosities and I would very much like to lend a hand, if you would let me…” Mrs. Farida pauses in anticipation of a response but silence prevailed instead, with Lola’s intermittent sigh the sole component that attests to life in the room, although, her relief was palpable.

*************************************************************************************************

Francis gazes at the door, through which Clara had just exited, she had gone to source out refreshments. A waning mischievous grin still lurked on his face as he stared into the space she had walked through, his injured arm bandaged and attached to a tube that connects to an intravenous fluid sac hanging down a stand beside his bed, with just little staples on the several contusions across his face. He eventually caved his grin and occupied his mind with other thoughts until he became curious about the extent of damage  his face had suffered; he sits up and attempts to reach for his paramour's bag on the table beside him, grimacing as he stretched.

He succeeds in his attempt and soon begins to fumble through the bag for a mirror. He finds one but notices a card underneath the bag’s strewed contents; a flat, rectangular, silver plastic with a classic inscription on it that read; “SILVERLING.” It sounded quite familiar in his head. Silverling…Of course! He evinced, it’s a hotel --- his dad had taken him there to celebrate passing the bar last year. Why would she be in possession of the hotel’s key card? 

His curiosity deepened and with just one working arm he further searches the bag frantically but found nothing, and would have contented himself with just asking her when she returns, had he not seen the zipper on the left side of the bag’s inner pocket. Without hesitation, he unzips the pocket and reveals an envelope, enclosed within was the hotel's letterhead.

He unfolds it and allows his eyes skim through the first words, it was addressed to Clara and one Mr. Prince about their reservation, he could now feel his heart rapidly palpitating, anger slowly stirring in his chest. He glances down to the bottom end --- the signature corner and just then, he drops the paper in outright disbelief of what he beheld, his bowels whirred in utter disgust and soon begins to hyperventilate, exhaling excessively to keep up with the speed of his racing heart.

“No…this can’t be,” he whimpered, his voice finally finding its way around the lump lodged in his throat as he stared at the paper again, this time with tear-brimmed eyes and a shattered heart.

Watch this space for the next episode...