CHAPTER 3
I have to find her. Though I know it's twelve years too late, I must. So I could ask - No begging for her forgiveness. Because as far as I'm concerned, as humans, forgiveness is given to those who earn it. So far I haven't done anything to deserve it. Right now I'm stuck at a crossroads and I'm wondering if this is the right decision. But I've never been more sure of anything in my life.
I looked around the rather quiet neighborhood. I'm certain the house has to be somewhere around here. I'm sure of it. I looked around the neighborhood dotted with one-story houses furnished with fine gardens in the front yard, medium-sized pickets fenced around each house, and People scantly moving up and down the street. Everything about the atmosphere was serene. I could understand why she would come here after everything that happened. She needed to heal her soul. She had always wanted to live peacefully and away from the chaos of life in the city. I sighed coming out of my jumbled thoughts and revving back to the task at hand.
Now, to find Elizabeth Vanni. If she still uses her family name that is. I spotted a bakery across the street from where I stood. "Right. let's start here" I mumbled. The welcoming chimes tinkled as I entered the bakery. A man about the age of forty with a bald head that shone despite his dark hard features looked up and grinned at me from behind a display glass counter. His grin changed his once hard features into a soft welcoming smile. I immediately relaxed because of this.
I observed he looked too thin for a baker. Maybe he doesn't eat bread, but that won't be a first. I returned his grin with a small smile, my eyes browsed around the shop hoping something will catch my eye. I'm not a fan of flour, howbeit cookies and muffins are an exception. The bakery was cozy and full of warmth, and the cookies on display made my mouth water. It reminded me that amidst my little adventure, I had forgotten to fill up my stomach. The entire bakery smelled divine. While I browsed around I could tell the baker was carefully observing me. His elbows rested on the baked goods counter.
"Are you going to buy something anytime soon?" He said with a soft chuckle. A little embarrassed I scratched the back of my neck.
"Am sure something will catch my eye soon enough. Its food. One can never resist." He laughed and went about cleaning some things, I have no idea what. Soon enough something did catch my eye. It was a heart-shaped cookie baked with dried fruits sprinkled on it. I instantly recognized it. How could I ever forget? Joyce had made the same cookies for us years ago. Oh, how I've missed these babies. They're one of the best memories I have of her.
"I think I found what I want," I called. His eyes lit up as he spotted what I had picked.
"Good eye," he commented with a nod of approval.
"Pack four for me please."
"Sure thing," he took it from me and began to package it in a transparent wrap with tiny hearts designed on it. He then put it in a larger leather with the bakery logo on it. I couldn't resist the urge to taste it, so I picked one of the samples on display. There it was. The taste of memories, everything came Floating back, I was dumbstruck. Was this a sign that my search has come to end or a mockery by fate that I could have a bite of what I wanted yet not have it whole?
"Can I inquire about something, please? it's important to me, I'd appreciate it if you could be as honest as possible" I hoped he would see how desperate I was. He nodded rapidly.
"Ask away. If I could be of help why not," He replied with a shrug. This is my chance.
"You don't happen to know a lady named Elizabeth around here do you?" He chuckled softly again. I noticed he does that a lot.
"I know of three Elizabeth in town," he raised one finger in the demonstration "one is the town's very own chief of police wife, but she's dead" he blankly stated with a stoic expression. But I was the opposite. I felt sweat trickling down my spine at the mention of death. " please please let it not be her," I chanted within myself. What if she was not only married but dead? What then would I do with myself?..
"The second Elizabeth is a teenager," he went on "and I reckon she couldn't be the one you're looking for by the look of disappointment on your face." He paused as though he was giving me time for his words to sink in.
"Who is the last Elizabeth?" I whispered the words out. I barely heard myself speak but surprisingly he did.
"She's in her fifties and she moved to the city just yesterday," he sounded apologetic I don't know why but maybe for bearing what looked like bad news for me.
I ran my hand down my face and through my thick overgrown dark hair and groaned in frustration. He flinched at the sudden noise that came out of me. I realized that I must have startled the man so I smiled apologetically.
He cleared his throat "If you could be specific, perhaps I might know the woman you're looking for, like a last name or.."
"Vanni !" I responded abruptly. His eyes widen slightly.
"Vanni?
"Yes yes! Elizabeth Vanni, I was told she lived around here?" I lightly scratched my beard a nervous habit I wasn't able to stop. "You see I'm from Lagos and I'm a family friend of hers I need to speak with her," I came close to the tall thin man. I'm sure I looked desperate. While he looked at me suspiciously. As if he doesn't know If he could trust me or not. I don't blame him, I wouldn't trust me either, I looked like I came down from the mountains, my thick overgrown beard needed a shave and I'm certain my breath smelled bad after days and days of being on the road with no chance of brushing my teeth. He sighed and shook his head, empathy in his eyes "I'm sorry man but I can't help you," my shoulders slumped.
"Thanks anyway," I mumbled and I grabbed the packaged cookies from the counter with a heavy grunt took one from it, and put it whole in my mouth. Everything came alive, my sullen mood was forgotten by the exquisite milky and a hint of the taste of ginger - I remember so much in the cookies. I laughed. Laughed out loud at the situation. Why didn't I notice this sooner?
I turned to the man whose face was morphed with confusion, maybe because of the huge smile that split my face.
"This. Where did you get this recipe if you don't mind me asking?"
"Uh.."
"I beg you. Just this last favor."
"Joyce.." My breath hitched at the mention of her name. I blinked rapidly to regain my composure. How can this be?
"Jo. Joyce?"
"Yes, Joyce Vanni. Nice lady. She gave it to me as a birthday gift after years of asking for it," he chuckled with a shake of his head "That lady, always has something special to give," he said with a soft chuckle. This time I joined in, except mine was louder and more of joy than amusement. Joyce Vanni. Who would have ever thought I'd find you?