TALES OF THE ATLANTIC

CHAPTER THREE

It was ten forty-eight when I stepped out of the apartment and headed for the hospital where my mother had been admitted. Out of all the twelve apartments on the block, my sister’s apartment was undoubtedly the cleanest. I’d say kudos to her, but it didn’t do anything to improve her ‘attitude.’

Typical Benjamin Okpara Street in the morning saw people walking up and down somewhat aimlessly. I came out of the compound and started walking until a taxi cab stopped for me near Casablanca – a popular grill and night club, at the end of the street. I soon entered the taxi cab which was painted blue and white and shut the door, while thinking of Casablanca which in the next seven to eight hours would come ‘alive.’ The driver took a couple of short cuts before we were stopped by a traffic warden, who subsequently allowed the lane sideways to move. As I waited in the taxi cab, I began to wonder why my mother wanted to see me.

The traffic warden soon waved our line to move, and the driver sped to the opposite lane. He was about to change the gear when I indicated my willingness to alight. After a short trek, I arrived at the gate of Sylvia Specialist Clinic, and looked around before easing into the building. I soon met a beautiful lady at the reception who asked me to sit down after I explained the purpose of my visit to her. I sat down with my two palms on my knees looking nervous. I checked my wristwatch and it showed eleven fifty. I always kept to my appointments, one thing I never joked about; I was still congratulating myself, when a fat lady appeared and whispered to me to go and see my mother.

Though I was not used to walking slowly, I’d no choice since the fat nurse did not seem to be in a hurry, as I walked beside her like an obedient tot. We soon stopped at a door which she opened for me and reminded me not to exceed the allotted time for the visit.

“Please do not say anything that will make her anxious or nervous, okay?”

“No problem,” I replied with thanks. I entered and pulled a seat beside my mother’s bed while looking at her face and the white curtain that prevented the sun’s rays from penetrating the room.

“Tonye,” she called in a weak voice, “help me with the pillows.” I stood up immediately and placed two extra pillows underneath her head to give it a sort of elevation before returning to my seat.

 “I was told you were sedated this morning,” I began, as I tried hard to prevent any sort of emotional outbursts like crying. She turned towards me and reached for my left hand, which I didn’t wait for her to hold, before I quickly held hers. “What I’m going to tell you is very important, and it must not go out through that door,” she continued while I pulled my seat nearer to her bed.

“Your late father was a member of a very powerful secret society called Marine Brothers Society, which made him rich and powerful…in return, he was to kill a certain category of persons with a special sword, as commanded by one…goddess.” She paused as if to remember more dMarine Brothers Societyils of what she was telling me.

“Don’t waste any more money on my health, because no doctor, medicine or machine on this planet can save me from death…” She coughed slightly, as I looked at the door, hoping no ‘patrolling’ nurse had heard her, while feeling sorry for her at the same time.

“Please don’t say that,” I whispered to her. “You’ll be fine, I promise you.”

“I’ve already informed the medical personnel in the clinic…when I die, I want to be cremated, and I also want my cremains to be spread by you anywhere around the Abonemma Water Front.” She forced a weak smile, and soon discovered my concealed apprehension. I kept whispering words of hope and encouragement to her, but soon stopped when I heard the last two statements she made.

“Your late father sacrificed me to their cult, as he was about to die, with the belief his life would be elongated. She paused for some few seconds while staring into space.

“I know you’re thinking of vengeance…” she concentrated as her gaze on the ceiling. “The only ‘problem’ there is that you must join Marine Brothers Society before you can be able to destroy them, it’s clearly a catch-22 situation…”

Even in her state of health, my mother could not resist using far-fetched words in her conversations. “The Marine Brothers Society cult destined him to die at sixty-three,” she turned to look at me as tears welled up in her eyes. “He believed he could sacrifice me to increase his lifespan…his own wife, after everything…”

“Everything is going to be fine mummy; since he’s dead I guess you’ll have no problem recovering.”

“You still don’t understand,” she winced.

“Through marriage, I was his soul mate, that’s why my blood was spiritually accepted, even when it was clear that he was destined to die at sixty-three by the cult. It’s been six months Tonye  and I don’t know what’s going to happen, but just do to my body, what I instructed you earlier, okay?” I heard and understood clearly, everything my mother had divulged to me in this clinic, but funny enough, the aura of unbelief was clearly around me. I stood up and looked at her once beautiful and radiant face, as I realised at that moment, that I’d finally known everything about my father’s death. I left her side and paced up and down the room with both arms akimbo, till the fat nurse knocked and entered the room unexpectedly. She smiled at me and walked over to my mother with a square tray, which she set down on a white cupboard beside her bed.

Within minutes, she removed the syringe attached to my mother’s left arm, the empty drip sachet, and carefully with a methylated spirit soaked cotton wool, cleaned the top of her palm where the ‘butterfly’ had been pierced on her skin.

“You have to start going my dear…that’s all I can permit,” the fat nurse looked at the floor and shook her head, which made me understand the hopeless state of my mother’s situation, courtesy of my late father. Soon, she rose up her head and spoke to me in a low tone, while avoiding my mother’s eyes which were gradually closing.

“I’ll be very sincere with you my dear boy if that operation is not carried out soon…” I cut her midway, while whispering, about my mother’s desire to be cremated after her death. To my surprise, she affirmed it with a smile and waited patiently till I left the room. I turned round, with my hand on the doorknob ready to go, when I heard a faint voice calling my name my name. I rushed to my mother’s side to hear what she had to tell me, while the nurse maintained a considerable distance almost immediately.

“How is your sister doing?” I felt amused for a moment that throughout my visit, she didn’t mention anything about my sister until now. I cared less about her at that moment because she was probably enjoying herself on an ‘official assignment.’

 “She’s okay, went to Abuja this morning for an official assignment…she must’ve arrived by now.”

“Tonye, please don’t forget what I asked you to do with my body when I’m gone…if you don’t end this now, it will never stop…”

“Please we have to allow her rest,” the nurse chipped.  My mother ignored the fat nurse and beckoned me one last time.

 “My soul will rest in peace only when you…when you destroy the Marine Brothers Society goddess, that bitch…just defeat her…destroy her…not for your father or for yourself, but for me…please.” Her breathing soon became laboured when I stood up and walked to the door. I knew the last time I’d set my eyes on that body, it would be lacking the breath of life. I was very sure of that. As I walked through the last corridor towards the exit, I discarded every feeling of pride, power, affluence and influence I once possessed, and felt a sudden surge of strength for my mother. Not for the late coward who’d desperately sacrificed her, or for my selfish desires, but for my mother. This was because her blood had been accepted, and they still stuck to their guns in ending my father’s life at sixty-three. I was walking out of the clinic when the fat nurse who had escorted me to my mother’s room re-appeared in a hurry, panting slightly.

“Thank God you’ve not yet gone, she said I should give you this, it’s all she’s got…according to her.” I didn’t doubt the nurse for a moment, because I knew the day she was brought to the clinic, the only thing on her body was the nightgown she’d been wearing that fateful morning…

“Thank you,” I replied receiving the Holy Bible from her, as her eyes kept diverting to my unshaven face. She walked away while my eyes remained on the Holy Bible she gave to me. Inside, my name was inscribed on the first page with gold print. I was still turning the pages while walking down the street, when I saw a small piece of paper in the middle of the Bible with the inscription:

Please ensure this Holy Bible is given to my son, I want Jesus to help him get rid of that Marine Brothers Society rubbish once and for all

Immediately I read the note, I stopped at a roadside restaurant to scrutinize the entire Bible. After a few minutes, I soon discovered it was purchased in Israel, probably when the buyer went there on pilgrimage. I was shocked to realise that my late father did not find any fulfilment in being wealthy, as he’d once described Marine Brothers Society as ‘rubbish.’ If Marine Brothers Society was ‘rubbish,’ then why did he join it? Maybe because of the lingering poverty he’d experienced, reproach or sociMarine Brothers Societyl rejection due to the first factor…

For the first time in my life, as I looked at the vehicles which went down the street, I knew the ball wasn’t in my court, but rather vengeance was the Hobson’s choice I had to take. Standing up from where I sat in the restaurant, I didn’t bother to check the time, as I crossed the road and walked till I was near the junction. As soon as I arrived at my sister’s apartment, I decided I was going to take my time in finding out everything I could about Marine Brothers Society, and wait till my mother went to the great beyond before I’d take the next step. After crossing the junction, I walked to another small junction where I stopped a small taxi cab, which took me to Benjamin Opara Street. The sun was already up in the sky, and I cared less as sweat kept streaming down my head and face while I walked to the front door of Boma’s apartment.

Bolting the door behind me the moment I entered, I pulled out a brown handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my face. Luckily for me, the power outage was over so I put on the ceiling fan and sat on a chair in the dining room, before taking off my shirt. I soon opened a cupboard where Boma kept most of her books and stationeries, took out a sheet of printing paper, a dictionary and a pen. I was about to return to my seat, when my gaze rested on a small picture with a golden frame on the cupboard. It was a picture of Boma at age seven with a smile that was yet to be tainted with neither lipstick nor lip-gloss…

For the next one hour, I kept perusing the dictionary and Boma’s Toshiba notebook, which had internet connection, to find out the meaning of the three letter word ‘Marine Brothers Society,’ alongside the meaning of other words ranging from ‘occult’ to ‘perfectionist’ to ‘goddess’. I picked up the plain sheet where I’d written all the words whose meaning I’d checked in the dictionary and on the internet. Most of them were irrelevant to my ‘investigation’ as my mind kept going back to my former course mate – Timothy Iyonvbere, who, from trudging the dusty roads of Port Harcourt, was now swimming in money. It wasn’t a surprise to me that my dear sister loved alcohol, especially the strong ones (since her late father had the same passion). Soon I stood up and walked over to the side of the water dispenser where she hid the Smirnoff Vodka she’d bought some days ago. I opened the bottle, poured myself a small amount, after which I replaced the cap.

I took a sip, and the next moment, the ‘liquid fire’ was felt from my throat down to my stomach.

“Like father like daughter”, I whispered to myself with a deep breath. Rubbing both eyes with my left palm, I opened the dictionary one more time to the definition of ‘Marine Brothers Society,’ which I kept reading over and over again. Ten minutes later, I shut the fat book returned it to its place, stood up, pushed the chair inside and threw the shirt I’d worn to the hospital over my shoulder. I looked at the sitting room which was demarcated by a transparent curtain as I scoffed at the word ‘perfect’ and downed the remaining vodka in the glass.