" Eva, your father and I have a prayer session with the other pastors which is likely to last till morning so we can't come home with you. Evan went back home hours ago, you know his wife is heavily pregnant, so the only person that can take you home is Keith".
I opened my mouth but no words fell through.
So basically ...
"Thanks", I told Tom and walked away.
The night breeze ruffled my ankle length skirt as I walked, and I smiled at the memory of my nne nne scrunching her wrinkled nose at my terrible fashion sense.
She always asked why I wore clothes even she wouldn't wear at her age, always getting into arguments with my mother about it.
"Kedu ihe kpatara ị na-amanye nwatakịrị a iyi uwe dị ka nna ochie ? ( Why are you forcing this child to dress like an ancestor ? ). My nne nne (mother's mother or grandma) will always ask mother.
"Dressing decently isn't dressing like an ancestor mama", was my mother's usual response.
It's been two years since her death, and I missed her terribly.
I greeted some church members that either said hi Eva, or good evening Eva, as I walked down to my father's office.
My dad was absent when I entered his office, and I greeted my mother and no surprise there Mrs Johnson.
"Where were you ? Didn't you say you were going to help the sanitary unit out ?", My mom questioned.
" Yes, and I did. I stepped out for some fresh air, when someone came to tell me you were looking for me".
She beamed as she spoke. " Oh Thomas, he's a very nice boy. I'll make sure to thank him next Sunday ".
My eyes bunched on their own. Why was she smiling like that ?
Mrs Johnson filed in. "And he attends every single service. I have never seen him miss, he's an outstanding young man".
Guess he wasn't just saying he attends every service, he meant it.
" That's true", my mom said.
Mrs Johnson's voice grew bitter. " Unlike my son".
That piqued my interest.
" That boy will be the death of me. He's turning twenty soon, and all he does is fool around. Nothing about the church interests him, and anytime he is involved, I have to force him. I have tried everything, his father has tried ...", She scoffed, " They're always getting into petty arguments".
She shook her head and wiped a tear that had perched at the corner of her eye.
"He'll come around Stella, there's nothing impossible for God to do", my mom comforted her, rubbing her hand on her knee.
"When Miriam ? When ? What that boy needs is a miracle. I have done all I can do as a mother. He has so much anger and resentment in his heart, I just ...". This time a tear escaped her eye, straight down to her jaw.
"He wasn't always like this, but ever since that girl ...", She trailed off again.
That girl ?
That girl what ?
Which girl ? I so desperately wanted to ask, but my mom has raised me never to involve myself in adult conversation unless spoken to directly.
So I kept my mouth shut, even though the claws of curiosity dug it's way deep in my bones.
"Stella it's alright. We'll keep praying, and having faith. God will change him", my mom tried to assure her.
" Amen, I really hope so", Mrs Johnson said.
My mom turned to me.
" Eva, your father and I have a prayer session with the other pastors which is likely to last till morning so we can't come home with you. Evan, -- the help the church had assigned to us -- went back home hours ago, you know his wife is heavily pregnant, so the only person that can take you home is Keith".
My heart started doing that thing again. That thing where it felt like it was doing summersaults in my chest.
I opened my mouth but no words fell through.
Mrs Johnson shook her head as she pulled out her phone from her very expensive looking bag.
"I've been calling him since he brought me my bag. Who knows what he's up to ?", She said, with a shake of her head, and disappointment in her eyes.
I actually felt sorry for her.
" Before I left the uhmm ... the church". The two women fixed their eyes on me. " I saw him. If it's okay, can I go check if he's still there".
Mrs Johnson sighed, and my mother nodded.
"Gaa nwa m ( Go my child )" , my mother approved in our native language.
I turned around and left the office.
The cold air slapped my face. If it wasn't for the things Mrs Johnson had said, I would have told my mom I wanted to stay in church with her and the pastors.
Maybe then I could pray for God to give me direction on what to do about Keith. But God came through before I could even ask him for direction.
He wanted me to save Keith.
There was a reason like I suspected. A girl, and I was going to find out who she is and what happened.
***
He was nowhere.
And in my search for him, I realised Keith Johnson was like a celebrity in our church. According to what I've learnt so far, Keith didn't come to church. I didn't know how he managed the lead guitarist role in the church band his mother always boasts of, without actually attending service.
But my point was, how did so many people know him ? All I had to say was Keith, and they would fill in with Johnson ?
Most of the girls had stars in their eyes when I asked them about him, and instead of being helpful to my quest, they threw various questionable questions at me.
But a lot of them had looks of regret, anger, and just plain disgust at the mention of his name.
The guys were more co-operating, but no one knew where he was so, I decided to walk around the church with my fingers crossed hoping he was around somewhere.