There was a gentle knock on the door. I became alert in my seat. I reduced the television volume and listened again. The knock was heard again. When I was hesitant to open the door, the door opened slowly to the inside and a stout slow man entered. He was dressed officially, with a bow tie and car keys in his hands, indicating that he had just come from work. We looked at each other for a while. There was silence as he came towards where I was and stretched his hand towards me. I was hesitant.
"Will you not greet your uncle?" He said and broke the pregnant silence that had prevailed. I was shocked. Was this Uncle Jack, the person I had come to visit? Was I not told that he was a bit tall and slim? Had my father not emphasized that he was dark in complexion? I looked at him for a while. I tried to compare the two faces: the one that I saw in the picture that my mother showed me and the face that was just standing in front of me.
Dissatisfied, I stretched my hand to him for greetings. He explained his disbelief of me not knowing him. He wondered why I never knew him and went on to stress that I should have asked for enough information about where I was going. As he was saying so, I remembered the incident in the room. I thought about telling him about it and how it had frightened me but I hesitated. I had made up my mind that I was doing my research about him. I also wondered why he proposed that I should have asked for information about him before coming to his place. Who even knew him well in the first place? I grew up being told that I had a rich uncle who had not yet married. I was told that he never liked being with the other family members and whenever there were family events or celebrations, he would come on the final days of the events just to be marked present. I was also informed that he never liked to share his money with anyone. I had once heard rumors that his neighbors rarely saw him, and sometimes he would leave very early in the morning and they would only hear the rumble of his vehicle back home late at night.
These memories made me worried and I almost regretted why I had come to his house. When he came to sit where I was, I nearly backed off. He noticed it and ignored it. There was nothing to say to the other. We appeared as total strangers. In my mind, I concluded that indeed his riches were not normal.
"I mean, not even a single person knows where he works, and he claims to own such a decent and expensive house and a car!" I was becoming uneasy. My juice was still untouched on the table. He took it and consumed it. I was in shock! I almost asked him why he did that before I realized that I was in his house. He took another juice from the fridge and poured in two wine glasses. He then offered me one. When I was hesitant to take it, he urged me to finish my drink.
"So how did you feel when you were told that you would be coming to my house?" He asked finally after the moment of silence. The television was still on, with another episode of Shooting Stars going on. My eyes were on the television for a moment before turning to him.
"Hmm! I felt happy. Happier indeed because I was coming to a rich uncle." I replied excitedly. His face changed slightly from a smile to a frown when I mentioned his riches. I looked at him for a while, then diverted my gaze to the television where the episode was still streaming.
"Another question," he proceeded, "seems you forget easily!" He smiled disdainfully. There was silence as I took the last sip of my juice. "You can drink another glass. Don't be afraid." He said. I looked at him shyly and excused myself that I had had enough. "You're sure?" He asked again.
"Yes, I'm sure," I replied. "Why do you say that I forget things easily?"
He explained that he had come to our home five years ago to visit us. He explained how I was so small back in primary school. He explained that I was very jovial when I saw him. I laughed when he stated that I cried when I heard that he was going away. Were these stories of his own making? I could not remember seeing him anywhere apart from the picture that my mother had shown me. He stressed relentlessly that he had visited us one day to stay with us.
"I'll ask my parents whether this is true," I said. He immediately interjected saying that my parents were not at home that day and time. I was now confused. Since time immemorial, I had seen my parents sleeping at home everyday until my father got a new job. I had not even heard them saying that they had seen him somewhere close to home. I was surprised at how he could manage to lie. I finally decided to agree. I pretended to remember the day. I remembered the research task that I had assigned myself. I needed to know as many things about him as possible.
"You see," he said. However, he was surprised at my answer. "You remember now. That's why I told you that you forget things easily," he added, laughing. He took the remote control and switched to a different channel. He asked me whether I liked it and I agreed just to end the conversation. Surprisingly, he stood and went upstairs. Before he went, he pointed to the fridge and showed me meat to cook. He showed me the kitchen and was about to show me the dining table when I stopped him. I told him that I knew every room in that house. He laughed and proceeded upstairs.
I now pondered the whole conversation in the living room with him. I had every reason to doubt his riches. I doubted everything about him. I was afraid of staying in that house any longer. I worked quickly with the dexterity of my fingers in preparing the meat he had said. I was even afraid of the meat. Who knows it was a human being that had been slaughtered somewhere in those secret missions of theirs! When I was done cooking, I scrubbed my hands thoroughly with the kitchen soap. I went to the living room and sat for a while to think about what I should do next.
Finally, I rose and went to his room to wake him for lunch. When I arrived, I tiptoed and stood beside the door to listen to anything that could be heard. For a few minutes, there was silence and then I heard his phone ring.
"I saw your message and the money." There was silence. "I'll come tonight. Don't worry, just trust me." He added and then there was a prolonged silence. My ears were still wide open listening before I heard his voice which frightened me more.
"What are you doing there at the door?" He asked. I backed off from my position. I thought of running but imagined that he was seeing me with his big eyes. That sent shivers down my spine.
"Why did he see me if he is normal? Can a normal person see through a wall?" I asked myself repeatedly. I opened the door slightly and entered looking down. He repeated his initial question. The look on his face was unhappy. I stood before him trembling.
"Ah… I was…" I tried to explain. When he saw that I was not making sense, he asked what brought me there. "I came to tell you that the food is ready," I said. He looked at me and laughed.
"That is your food. Go and eat. Don't worry about me because I'm fine." He replied then went back to his phone.
"Sir, you have only drank juice since you came. What do you mean by saying that you're fine?" I was shocked. I looked at him waiting for an answer as he was busy on his phone.
"Are you still here," he shouted quite annoyed, "I said I'm fine. Don't you understand?"
"Okay Sir," I replied and quickly left the place. He stopped me at the door to stop me from calling him Sir.
"Come on, I'm your uncle. Why all this respect?" I was silent. "Go and eat your lunch now." He went back to his phone. I quickly went downstairs to the dining room. I was still disturbed by everything about Uncle Jack. I wondered how Jean managed to live with him. I served the food in a dish and took it to Jean at the gate.
At the gate, I found Jean dozing off in his seat. I checked and confirmed that the gate was locked. I woke him up. He rose quickly, embarrassed from sleep. He was about to begin apologizing when he saw me. He was happy with the food.
"I'm happy now that you have come." He said smiling.
"Why?" I asked curiously.
"I don't normally eat cooked food from this house. Your uncle gives me money to go and buy food in the supermarket." He started. "Sometimes, he orders food from the online food stores and gives me some."
"And what is wrong with that?" I was eager to hear more. It transpired that this was part of my research and so we sat down for him to give me the whole experience as a security worker there.
"Sometimes the food is not enough. Other times, the food is not what I like as it is usually processed food." He said while opening the dish and immediately starting to eat.
"Have you ever complained about it?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I fear your uncle very much." At that moment, I sympathized with him. I wished to ask him whether he might have heard anything abnormal in the house but relented. I needed more information to begin asking those questions.
"Don't worry, I'll tell him about it so that he considers…"
"No! Don't say anything to him! I fear that he may reprimand me for telling you about his behavior. He may also fire me because of talking bad about him! Don't say anything. Just assume that we said nothing here. Go back to the house now. He may call you anytime and ask you why you're at the gate for so long!" I was terrified. How could he manage to see? I ran towards the house and went straight to the dining table. I served my food and ate. When I was done, I ran to my room and threw myself to the bed. For sure, I needed time to process and possess the meaning of all that!