Three months later
"Guy, wake up. Classes are over for today. Let's get going." A voice called in a hushed tone to my hearing. If it was not for the urgency that I could feel and the need for hurry telling by the feeling of his palm against my shoulders, I most likely would have snapped at the person who dared to wake me up from sleep that I was taking delight in.
But I raised my head slowly and covered my mouth after a failed move of trying to stifle my yawn and I open my eyes forcefully against its wishes to drift back into the darkness and I looked at the lanky figure standing next to me; the person who woke me up.
"Mustafa, What is it?" I asked him, still annoyed. He was laughing wildly afterward, pointing a finger at me whilst he dipped the other hand in his trouser pocket, a hand of his hanging lazily over one of his shoulders like it was gonna slip and fall.
"You are drooling babes!" He said, guffawing loudly. There was a loud bustle, babbling and murmuring in the classroom; sounds of students closing or locking their lockers, stacking their books together, and stomping out of the classroom with their friends, jesting and laughing could be heard. No one was paying attention to us. No one ever does anyway and I don't care because I have about three months left before I graduate from high school but it made me feel a lot less embarrassed nevertheless.
I wiped my mouth, where the saliva has dried up, and shook my head, realizing that school was truly over now for the day. I stood up, unzipped my bag open and put the books resting on my locker into my bag, and then zipped it back.
"You are pretty good at bag making, huh? You have been using that same bag since I met you and we are graduating soon yet you are still using the same bag. It's surprising that it still looks this new."
"Trust my skills, Mustafa," I said with an eye roll, hanging my bag over my shoulders as we stepped out of the class together. "But seriously though, I was dreaming about food when you woke me up. I'm still mad at you." I whined.
"The further math teacher asked about you anyway because he noticed you were not in class and you barely skip classes. So I assumed you were sick hence I lied to him that you were sick only for me to find you sleeping in class." He went on, ignoring what I said previously.
"Well, I practically was. I was going through one of my symptoms, you know? So I just took tranquilizers and slept off and started dreaming about food." I explained.
"How do you feel now?" He asked, wrapping one arm around my shoulder. I nod my head in the affirmative to express that I was feeling better and then I yanked his hand away from my shoulders in a playful manner, which made him laugh.
Mustafa is my best friend. We met through dance club activities while I was in my third year of high school and we have been friends ever since up till my sixth year now.
We were the best dancers and our tutors gave us the lead roles most of the time. Through that, we got to know each other and became friends over dance. He is a good former and sticks up for me more than I even do stick up for him. He covers up for me a lot because he is very understanding.
He knows about my illness and my pain and even my past. Talking to him about things honestly makes me feel because he truly does bear my burdens with me.
"What should we buy for lunch on our way home?" I asked, after hearing my stomach grumble a couple of times. We are walking down the last set of stairs and we are headed towards the exit gate.
"Plantain perhaps? Aye. You can cook something we can eat." He winked, jokingly.
"Yep. In your dreams of course. I ain't cooking any meals for you again ever since you said the spaghetti I cooked that day was salty." I said, feigning annoyance and walking a few steps ahead of him.
"Come on! That was four years ago! You are a bomb chef now. You have so many talents; you can dance, you are a great actress, you are an amazing cook, you are the smartest in the class. Come on! Share some with me!" He said over a euphoric batch of laughter and I joined in too.
"You should work hard and earn yourself some skills as well," I said, laughing.
But all of a sudden, my laughter ceased.
It wasn't like the joke had lost its humor. If it was that, my laughter would have stopped in a gradual war but my laughter ceased all of a sudden and I could not understand why until I saw a mini truck immediately after Mustafa and I stepped out of the gate.
It looked like a milk trick where dairy products were being sold because I could see a jug of milk and a yogurt container on the mini tabletop. The truck in itself consists of a huge painting of a cow, and a milkman pressing its udder for more milk. I mean, food makes me happy but it does not distract me much to the extent of making me stare like I am right now.
Mustafa noticed of course and it was the slight tapping on my shoulder that had jolted me away from my reverie.
"Umm...Mustafa, I can't go home with you today. I guess you would just have to go home on your own. I'm sorry." I apologize.
"How so? Are you okay?" He asked, skeptically but concerned.
"Yeah. Yeah." I lie. I could not even tell if I was okay or not. I was still in utter shock as to what I just saw. Or who rather.
"Very well then. I'd see you tomorrow."
I give him a brief nod. "Make sure you get something to eat," I told him, feeling bad for wading him off just like that.
But as always, he understands me again, which makes my heart melt. He gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and said goodbye before leaving.
I turned back towards the dairy milk truck and I saw the person who owned the truck stare right back at me now. It was him. My heart and my jaw dropped. I could not tell which one dropped first of it they had both dropped at the same time but I knew that one dropped due to a reflex, a transmission of the information signaled to my brain; surprise, elation, unbelief morphed into one emotion and I knew the other one dropped because of ecstasy.
I mean, I was so happy, I felt like I would burst. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks. It was a test that expressed too many things at once but I could not decipher which emotion took the lead.
I just could not believe my eyes and I badly needed a moment to take in all that just happened. He did not move from where he was either. He just stood and smiled at me in a way that warmed my heart beyond what I could explain. It was a smile that reached his eyes; it was welcoming, genuine, promising, and securing. His smile told all of those things and it felt like I was familiar with his smile whereas it is my first time seeing him smile.
He looked like he expected to meet me here hence why he came here but I did not expect something big to happen today. It was a total contrast. I thought that I was experiencing one of my symptoms again which frightened me for a second that all I was seeing was not real.
But I took a step away from where I stood and walked to the other side of the road where he was. His arms were wide open and I ran into them, and then they wrapped themselves around my back, closed in the most heartwarming embrace I have ever felt in eight years. He was real. He is here. After eight years!
"Dan is this you?!" I asked, gripping a handheld of his shirt, as more tears kept falling down my eyes. He grilled a fistful of my hair too and ran his hand down the wooly length of my hair. He was sniffing; he seemed to be crying as well.
"I meet you on a sunny day after school in a dairy milk truck after eight years of being away from each other! My heart can't take all of this at once. It is too good of an occurrence to happen in just one day!" I said, gripping his shirt even more firmly as I placed my head on his chest, crying out all of my heart contents if that was possible. He did not drop me. We were both overwhelmed.
He could not believe he finally saw me after eight years too. I knew he was mostly looking for me for a very long time and had tried to find me in every place where I could be.
I knew he could not try to approach my family to ask for my whereabouts because asides from the fact that I'm barely ever at home, my family members do not know who Dan is, so he could not approach them to ask about me. My family would not answer a stranger.
Whoever told him that I schooled here definitely must have risen his hopes up but I could still imagine the disappointment and weariness he would have felt if it turned out to be a lie or the mere thought and paranoia of him feeling that it was not true.
All of these things made me feel so grateful. He promised to come back for me and he did.
Quickly, my mind went back to those days of our immense struggle and pain; how he kept coming through for me even when he made the most stupid decisions, did and said the most stupid things, and even when it seemed like there was no way out; how far we came and how we survived. It made my heart squeeze, that I could feel it in my chest.
I missed him. A lot. And now, I just really want to know how my savior is doing. How he has been faring for the past eight years.
Now he pulled my shoulders gently, disconnecting my head from laying on his chest so he could look into my eyes. His face was wet with his tears smeared all over and of course, I knew mine looked worse; I could even feel a boogie in my nose.
"You don't look prettier than the last time I saw you, eight years ago." He said in all honestly, which I was very thankful for.
He was not like the other guys in my school who just wanted to have sex with me, hence they told me lies, saying I am the prettiest they have ever seen and that my body is insane. But here is Dan, telling me what I need to hear and what I know for myself.
I have been through a lot for eight years that I have no time at all to take care of my skin; not even for one day because I'm occupied with one thing or the other just so I can stay sane. Of course, I only looked average; Not very pretty but not completely ugly either. I did not need any of the lies that people were telling me.
I looked at the truck again and wondered what business he had with it.
"You too Dan, you have the look of someone who had been struggling and has been having a hard time. How have you been in the past eight years?" I asked him, as he wiped my tears away that has spread all over my face now. I guess he wiped the boogie away too but he did not seem to notice or care rather.
"Come into my truck. Let me give you a ride so we can talk for as long we can." He said, holding me by the hand.
A student who looks like one of my juniors from school rushes over to where we are standing. It is obvious she wants to patronize Dan but she stops abruptly when she sees the stern look I give her. She turned away and left. Dan did not stop me even after seeing what I did. I was so happy that he also did not want anyone to ruin the moment we were about to have.
He slides the side door of his truck open very quickly and I step in, sitting right on the next seat to the driver's seat. Behind us, are the machines needed to produce all of the dairy products available for sale so there are only two seats in the truck. Dan steps right into the driver's seat after sliding the door shut and then starts to drive, till we are out of the school's vicinity.
**
"So, how did you know about my school? And about the fact that I school there?" I asked when we got to our destination— the place he wanted to take me to.
We were sitting on a bench; just right before a small, see-through fence that housed a bed of several kinds of flowers; sunflowers, lilies, zinnias, roses, tulips, and hibiscus flowers even. The sun's setting ray on the flowers adds an iridescence to it; like a yellowish-orange shade shining and lording over yellow, red, and pink colors; each flower beautiful in its diversity. The blend was all together, magnificent.
"I was out and about, tryna make sales. I just finished selling yogurts to some students in another school and I decided to ride my truck to the next street and I stumbled upon your school and I saw you. I've been doing that for as long as I can remember - selling milk in every environment I find myself, and hoping I would find you there. Just like trial and error. You can imagine how many times my hopes must have been dashed." He said with a painful smile on his face.
Although he looked ragged, I still could not deny the fact that eight years did make a lot of change to his outlook because he did look manlier now; a goatee gracing his chin and a head full of hair that is platted into what looks like medium-sized dreadlocks, reaching down a little below his shoulders. His skin looked a lot lighter now but it was mixed with red spots that looked like legacies made by mosquitoes and perhaps, a few other accidents.
"Yes. I know what disappointments feel like. It must have been hard for you especially because you had no idea of what I currently looked like neither did you have any of my photographs with you. So no one could have possibly helped you to find me. I'm sorry for all the disappointments and frustration you must have felt and I'm thankful that you did not give up regardless." I said, squeezing his hand gently in mine, hoping that my words were transparent enough to let my genuineness flow through.
He gave a smile of what looked like a renewal of hope for something new.
"I know you have been busy with school, so there would not be much for you to tell me but how have you been? Really?"
"That's a big question. I can't put all that I've been through into accurate words but one thing for sure is that I have been busy. Voluntarily busy though. I occupy myself with a lot of things; I take extra dance lessons during the holidays, I take after school lessons during the weekends, I do businesses too; I make bags and bake pastries for my church on Sundays and I do a lot of reading. I do these things to stay sane. So basically, I have been trying to stay sane for eight years."
"How is your mum? How is your relationship with her?" He asked.
"What do you expect it to be like?" I asked, scoffing.
"I knew it was sour that's why I asked. I was not expecting to hear good news. But you know, you gotta move on anyway."
"Of course. I know I should and I have been trying to, " I said with a shrug. "That's why I have been doing a lot of things to stay sane or subside the pain I feel but never truly healing from the pain nor moving on but I guess it would be easy for me to move on now since I have a great ally back on my side," I said, giving him a forced wink. He caresses my hands with his thumb and smiles at me.
"Anyway, how have you been Dan? I have been dying to know. What's up with the milk truck thing?" I ask with all sincerity, staring deeply into his eyes that held tons of pain in them. Could the pain even be weighed?
"I have been walking on eggshells, Cassie."
Hmm. Cassie. In as much I should not be thinking of this right now, I must say, I do like the sound of that. Cassie.
"...you know, I do not have relatives anywhere so the night after I took you home to your parents eight years ago, I kept wandering about, looking for how I was going to survive. It was hard, finding a place to even lay my head to sleep but after so much wandering, I found a house that had a one-room apartment to rent. I had only a few coins in my pocket and I did not know if it would be enough for the rent but the old woman who owned the house, accepted me anyway and was kind enough to even give me a meager job - I cleaned the gutters weekly for 200 kobos. Yes, the same coin you showed me then, I earned two of that.
I used the money for my friend and saved the rest for my rent. As I grew, she gave me more jobs and she increased my pay as well. Good people are hard to find but I guess it was because my bad luck was already used up; with having to deal with the loan shark and all of that. So my help was waiting for me on the other side of perseverance. I used the same miner I earned from the old woman after doing numerous jobs to buy the milk truck since I saved enough to buy one. She supported me with a little capital as well so I started this business. I use the money I earn to pay my rent and save up the others till I can buy myself a house. The old woman does not even let me pay rent any longer. All I do now is work hard, thanks to her help though. I am twenty-two years and I'm struggling a lot."
"Wow. So that's where all of these mosquito bites came from?" I said, trailing my fingers on his face and his hands. "You went through a lot. I can imagine the kinds of gross jobs you must have done plus the fact that you were unhappy. It was hard. How come you've got no relatives though?"
"It's a story that I would tell you another time, Cassie, " He shrugged.
"God bless that woman though," I said, paused a little, and then continued. "So what is your next plan?"
"To keep selling milk till another opportunity comes, " He answered, shrugging. "I'm poor as hell you know, " He said with a sad smile.
"You can not keep going from place to place to sell milk. You can simply just sell for my school alone. We have a lot of students here in my school and they are surely gonna buy because yogurt vendors are hard to come by. Besides..." I held his hands more intimately now, as though I was scared of letting it go.
"...I have not seen you in years. You can not just keep going out and about again, leaving me with unsure as to when next I would see you when I have not seen you in years. That would be you putting me on the edge and I don't want that, please. Just stay and make all of your money by selling milk for my school alone."
"I don't plan on leaving you any time soon either." He rubbed his palm on my hand assuredly and for the first time in so many years, I did feel true peace of mind. It is soothing.
*********
Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."