The chemistry laboratory was abuzz with activity as the second term kicked off. Caleb's classmates were engrossed in their experiments, their faces lit up with curiosity. One of them held up a test tube filled with a vibrant green liquid. "Bingo!" he exclaimed. "Caleb, this would indicate ferrous iron, wouldn't it?" Caleb's response was mechanical, his mind preoccupied with the turmoil brewing at home.
Mr. Edet, the chemistry teacher, made his way to their table, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "How are you all doing?" he asked, his voice booming through the laboratory. The students chorused a reply, their voices a harmonious blend of excitement and nervousness.
As the class drew to a close, Mr. Edet singled out Caleb. "Michael, you wait behind after lab." Caleb's heart sank, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What had he done wrong this time?
As he glanced around the laboratory, his eyes met Deborah's. She was engrossed in filling a burette, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and Caleb felt a spark of electricity run through his veins.
After the class, Mr. Edet led Caleb to the back room, a treasure trove of microscopes, burettes, and other state-of-the-art equipment. "Brand new stuff for your exams," Mr. Edet announced, his eyes shining with excitement. "You students don't know how lucky you are."
Caleb's response was polite, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about his mother, lying in the hospital bed, her body ravaged by the cruel hand of fate. He was thinking about the pain she endured, the silent suffering that seemed to etch deeper lines on her face with each passing day.
As he walked out of the laboratory, Caleb felt the weight of his emotions bearing down on him. He leaned against a wall, his eyes scanning the empty grounds. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the distant hum of traffic.
And then, he vomited. The bile rose up in his throat, a bitter taste that seemed to symbolize the turmoil brewing inside him. He stumbled to the tap, washing his mouth and hands with a sense of desperation.
Deborah had stayed behind too, helping Miss Lora plan a weekend campaign against child hawking.
"Do be careful," Miss Lora had said just before leaving. "I heard there was a clash between some area boys this morning around here." "I didn't hear anything like that," Deborah had said, "anyway, don't worry." The teacher had patted her cheek lightly, and for a minute, they'd gazed at each other affectionately.
As Deborah walked along, the air seemed sweeter, and the colors brighter. Until she saw Caleb. "Oh," she said. "Oh," he mumbled. She had always thought Caleb was cocky and irritating, but today, there seemed something helpless about him, like a baby bird. Why, she suddenly thought, he looks like a child really. A poor little kid. "Caleb, are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. Caleb nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. Maybe, just maybe, he had misjudged her all along.
He stood up straight. "Excuse me. Wait," she said. "I don't mean to pry, but Mary said your mum wasn't feeling too well. I hope she's better now." "Thanks," he answered shortly. They stood staring at each other a little awkwardly. Then he said, "I'm going home, are you?" And that was how they found themselves walking together towards the school gate.
As they walked together towards the school gate, Caleb felt a sense of awkwardness wash over him. What were they supposed to talk about? The silence between them seemed oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of their footsteps.
Deborah was already regretting her impulse. She didn't like walking with boys. Hope he doesn't start any nonsense again, she thought.
Caleb was trying hard not to glance at Deborah. She looked fresh and cool, and fastidiously neat, as always. Her gentle perfume filled the air, and Caleb felt a pang of guilt for noticing. His mother was in the hospital, and he was having thoughts like that! Shame on you, Caleb, he thought.
As they turned down the street, Deborah started to say something when they heard gunshots. Suddenly, the noise of people screaming and glass breaking filled the air. "What's that?" Deborah gripped Caleb's hand in fear.
People were running helter-skelter, and a tray of oranges rolled in the dust. The young girl hawking them was wailing loudly, but nobody paid any attention to her. "Area boys and the police are fighting!" someone shouted. "If you love yourself, stay out of the way!"
Caleb and Deborah joined a group and ran towards an uncompleted building. "We'd best stay here," Caleb said when they got inside. He noticed, almost regretfully, that Deborah had released his hand.
More people filled the street, shouting and adding to the commotion. Deborah pointed at a plump boy of about ten years old who stood in the middle of the street, staring blankly. "I know that boy!" she exclaimed.
"Who?" Caleb asked. He saw she was pointing at the boy, who had small, squinty eyes and an oddly shaped head that seemed too large for his body. "Is he from the school for children with learning disabilities?" Caleb asked.
Deborah corrected him primly, "Children with learning disabilities." Then she said with alarm, "He's going to get hurt." She was moving forward, and Caleb's eyes widened in horror. "Don't tell me you're going there. You can't!" he called out.
She looked at him in astonishment. "And who will stop me?" She ran out, and cursing under his breath, Caleb followed her.
The air was thick with blinding smoke that stung their eyes. A policeman was beating a man lying on the ground with the butt of his rifle. When the man raised his head, they saw it was covered with blood. Deborah grabbed the boy's hand, and then someone pushed her from behind. She reeled forward, almost falling into the nearby gutter, but Caleb caught her. "Run!" he shouted, and they ran out of the smoke, pulling the boy along with them.
They kept running until they were far from the heat and noise of the unrest. Deborah was trembling, and Caleb had a small cut on his lip. The boy burst into tears. "Look," Caleb said, "if we stay here, the trouble can come here. I know the owner of the ice cream bar. It's not totally shut yet. He'll let us in."
"Lucky for us," Deborah gasped. They banged on the burglar bars, and a man peered through the glass apprehensively. Samu, the owner, was a family friend of Caleb's. His expression changed when he saw them, and he opened the bars. The place was air-conditioned and had a television.
"Caleb the Great! How are you? Always trouble in this City," Karma said with a chuckle. Then he lowered his voice, "And who's this one now? It's not Nora, and it's not Dupe..." "Stop it," Caleb said, his face flushing.
Deborah was seated with the boy, her arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said. "You like doing crazy things. Crazy nice things." Caleb grinned. Deborah undid the band tying her hair. She hadn't plaited it that week, and it was long and thick, falling across her shoulders.
"I don't," Caleb said, laughing. "Bad things just always happen when you're around." Deborah smiled, and they both laughed. "I was terrible, but you were nice," she said, almost reluctantly. Caleb beamed with pride. "Yes, I am nice. How did you get involved with him?" He pointed to the boy.
Deborah's expression turned serious. "Through a charity visit I once helped with. It was lovely, and I learned a lot about children like him and the way society sees them." Caleb listened intently, intrigued by her passion. The conversation flowed easily, touching on topics like safety on the streets, school life, and people. They laughed together, and for a moment, the chaos outside receded into the background.
Caleb had never heard Deborah laugh before that day. The boy also cheered up considerably, pointing at things and staring at the television. Kamar brought them free ice cream and winked at Caleb.
"Why did you leave your school?" Caleb asked Deborah.
"I wanted to leave, now I regret it," she replied.
"Oh?" Caleb's curiosity was piqued. "I'll tell you more about it another time, not now."
As the time the unrest finally died down, it was dark. "I think we should be going now," Deborah said. "My aunt will be worried."
Caleb felt a pang of sadness. "There's no one to worry about me," he thought, but pushed the feeling aside.
"We have to drop him off," Deborah said, pointing at the little boy.
After thanking Kamar, they took the boy to his boarding school. "Bless you both," the instructor said when they arrived with the child. "You are wonderful children."
On their way home, they chatted and laughed. The streets seemed magically changed - like Deborah. Colored lights flashed from billboards. Traders selling piles of oranges sat talking as paraffin lamps glowed like magic candles on their trays. Cheerful music sounded from shops and restaurants.
A Some men with art dressea leaned against a tree and played a violin softly as they passed the park. Just opposite, a white garment church service was in full swing with noisy, chanting prayers and stamping feet. A girl selling recharge cards beside her stall danced to the music of popular pop star Timaya, which was playing from a nearby shop. She shook, twisted, and bent with such reckless abandon that Caleb and Deborah stopped and laughed as well, infected with pure fun.
Except for the broken glass on the ground, it seemed impossible that there had been trouble just that afternoon. They stopped in front of her house. "Thanks for today," Deborah said, smiling at him. "You were... you know."
She stopped as if she had said too much, smiled at him, and squeezed his hand a little. Caleb realized they had been holding hands the whole time. "Goodnight," Deborah said, and she went inside.
Caleb continued towards his house, feeling elated. The day seemed to have lasted forever. The sky was full of twinkling stars, and there was a full moon. He bounced along, sometimes jumping, sometimes breaking into a run. A few people stared at him, wondering what this boy in a school uniform jacket was all about.
When he went to sleep that night, there was a half-smile on his face.🙂😌