The next morning I was up by six, said a very short prayer, did some press-ups and hurried to the kitchen to tidy up the aftermath of yesterday's cooking and dinner before Her Majesty strayed in there. Apart from her dressing, there was one other thing that pissed everyone off in the family – her promiscuous lifestyle, which her parents saw as uncontrollable. This was despite the wealth the latter possessed, which she easily had access to, and the comfortable life she lived.
She had barely wiped off the toothpaste suds around her mouth when she came and greeted me in the sitting room.
"Good morning," she greeted slowly.
"Good morning how was your night?"
"It was wonderful, the power outage notwithstanding," she shrugged with a deep sigh as if she wanted to tell me something bad or nasty, while avoiding my stern countenance at the same time.
"I'll be travelling for some days, maybe till Saturday," she continued.
"Travelling to where?" I demanded folding my arms and eyeing her suspiciously.
"To Abuja, for an official assignment," she whispered still avoiding my eyes.
"No problem, safe journey…are you going by air or road?"
"It's an official assignment Tonye, and it's definitely by air. I'll be on the 10.30 flight this morning, so endeavour to take care of yourself while I'm away." With that she tiptoed into the kitchen, while the transparent night gown swept past her. Watching her lean on the door frame brought back thoughts of my mother's illness and my former course mate into my mind. I thought of the best way to remind Her Majesty about the balance of the medical expenses, while hearing her yawn.
She stood by my side and looked at me from head to toe, as if I'd transformed into another person. Moments later, she was holding a tray containing a cup of hot tea, two fried eggs, a tin of evaporated milk, some slices of bread, a jar of honey, a small container of margarine and a jar of apricot jam. 'Perfect breakfast for a saucy Princess.' I thought to myself.
"Come and join me," she offered with a smile across her lips, which was yet to get soiled with her lipstick.
"I'm not hungry yet," I responded, while pulling out a chair opposite her. The dining table was small but could comfortably sit four adults around it. Right now only Boma and I sat opposite each other, while the sun seemed to be slow in rising. For the next five minutes, I kept observing her countenance, while I thought of the best way to proceed with my 'request.'
"So Boma, before you go…what's your plan for the remaining Fifty Thousand Naira the hospital is demanding?" I spoke in the softest tone I could muster, while she spread margarine an apricot jam on two slices of bread. Afterwards, she placed them together and started stirring her tea, before raising up her head to face me.
"Tonye", she began in atone that sounded like our mother while sipping a cup of tea at intervals. "I've told you times without number…I don't have that amount of money, or do you think I'm lying?"
"This is our mother we're talking about here, your mother, my mother…we are the only children she's ever got in her entire life, and you think it'll be proper if we let her die without lifting a finger?"
"Listen, about lifting a finger, if I'm not mistaken, we've already 'lifted' Five Hundred Thousand Naira." She responded while I heard the resumed sound of the food she was eating. For a second, I tried to imagine how this twenty-five year old lady's face would look like with a slap on her face, and the subsequent effect on her official assignment. The room was steadily brightening up as I discarded the thought of hitting her from my mind, while enjoying the illuminating rays of the sun.
"Don't even go there my dear; you know you contributed little or nothing with regards to that amount," I whispered to her as the amount of food before her reduced drastically.
"At least I contributed, didn't I?" At that very moment, I knew her face was beautiful, with or without makeup, and wondered why she spent a lot of money purchasing them in the first place.
"Do you know why I switched off my phone?" I asked her mimicking a schoolteacher.
"Nope," she whispered without raising up her head as she used her teaspoon to squeeze the teabag into her teacup Thereafter she placed it in the tray, before crossing her legs.
"It's because anytime Dr. Okorie calls me, he always reminds me of my present financial state…mum's life hanging by a thread, and the 'nonchalant' nature of his patient's children – both of us, or would I say Tonye and Boma." She downed the remaining tea and smacked her lips, as she suddenly stood up and headed for my room. She returned with my phone, and a face I prayed not to see in my dreams.
"Here's your phone big brother," she began while switching on the Nokia phone, and placing it on the dining table in front of me, before going to clear where she ate. When she'd arranged everything on the tray, she pushed the chair towards the table and faced me with anger in her voice, even though she tried in vain to conceal it.
"I did not, you did not, and as a matter of fact, nobody inflicted mum with any infirmity. God knows I've tried the same way you have in finding a way to look for funds concerning her medical expenses. Even a madman knows that the sudden disappearance of all Dad's money isn't ordinary, if not both of us know what the hospital bills demanding on a normal day could be given by mum on a typical Sunday service to any charitable group who would be lucky to be in church when she was in a good mood…"
She stared helplessly at the ground as she continued in her eloquent voice.
"Yes she is my mother and nothing will ever change that, but if it's about the money, there's nothing I can do about it… honestly." She walked towards me, looked at me with a deep sigh and walked into the kitchen. After washing up her breakfast 'implements,' she was placing the teaspoon in its place when my phone began to ring. I feared the worst had happened the moment I answered the phone, without bothering to check who the caller was.
"Hello", I stammered.
"Am I speaking with Mr Tamunotonye…Ibierembo…Abbey-Hart?"
"Yes", I stammered again.
"Why has your phone been switched off?" the female voice inquired in an icy voice.
"It has been with a technician for repairs, but I'll soon buy a new one." I felt very bad for lying to whoever it was at the other end, as I watched my sister hurry past inside to prepare for her 'official' trip.
"Anyway, your mother has been sedated…she instructed me to tell you that she would love to see you at noon, hope it'd be convenient for you?"
"Yes," I answered, surprised how a stern voice could transform into a motherly one in a split second, while trying to conceal the rising apprehension in my voice. I knew something bad had happened or was about to happen the moment she ended the call, but didn't know when. Nurses and doctors always seemed to be unperturbed and confident, even if they were handling a very hopeless case. For a moment it was amusing to imagine how the nurse spoke calmly even when she knew the patient (my mother) was going to die, if the surgical operation was not carried out soonest, sedative or no sedative.
I didn't realise how long I sat at the dining table after the call, staring at the window, until my sister came out with a small bag ready to go to the airport.
"Who called…your girlfriend?" she asked feigning a serious tone.
"Yes, my girlfriend who needs money for an abortion, before her Dad finds out."
She sat down and switched on the television, and paid no attention to me while she made a phone call, probably to a taxi driver. "It's eight-fifty," she informed me in a voice, almost like a whisper.
"That means you'd be at Omagwa International Airport before ten-thirty to catch your flight?"
"Yeah, I guess."
The apprehension I was feeling seemed to be on 'pause' while I watched her apply make-up to her face, which had the same colour like soya beans. Soon, her face was well plastered with some powder, while her eyes looked smoky like firewood that had just been doused. Her silver earrings on the other hand were made of two circles each, possessing a different size and rotated whenever she shook her head. Her lips and fingernails were the same – a sort of transparent colour. Standing up, she examined herself before the large mirror hanging on the wall in the sitting room, while I tried to cook up a nasty joke about her dressing.
"Your skirt might tear and expose everything inside when you try to sit down." I said feigning a serious tone.
"Thanks for your concern, but I'm only wearing a G-string.
I opened my mouth for a minute as I stared at the black suit and silvery camisole she wore. They both seemed to be glued to her body when she turned and faced me, showing little or no concern for the question I'd just asked. She lifted her handbag and held it stylishly with her right arm as she carried the bigger luggage with the left. For a brief moment, I blamed my late father for Boma's behaviour due to the manner he always went out of his way to dote on her.
She began to catwalk to the main door and soon stopped with her right hand on the door knob.
"I left some cash for my dear brother to use till I get back," she said in a low voice. "I knew you won't collect it if I gave it to you by hand, that's why I left it on the drawer in my room…"
I would have loved to see the motherly expression on her face as she spoke, but it was impossible due to the Gucci sunshades that were presently adorning her eyes. My straying mind soon snapped back to reality as the door she opened to step outside and meet the taxi driver, shut gently. I stood up with a sigh, bolted the door and stood by the window till the taxi was driven out of sight.