A reply to the past (Short story)
The dusk ran swiftly just as I had wished. I couldn’t wait to start the
use of the new machine. More so, it is also a day for celebration.
I had woken up earlier with my sweater on, promising myself to complete the running exercise on the new treadmill before taking my hot coffee that chilly morning.
The doctor had advised us to in order to maintain a good health and heart function.
“You know the temperature here is so low and you need a lot of warmth lest you wake with a frozen arm” he had said light-heartedly.
“Top of the morning to you dear” Amaka said in a soft voice as she moves lightly across the gym towards the arm-chair in the lobby facing the garden and waiting for her own turn.
I only read her lips to get the message as my earphones are fastened to my ears, but I replied her immediately with a thanks-don’t-distract-me nod, keeping up my determination.
I need to keep fit before the evening’s party. Business partners and colleagues most of who are whites will be coming around, so all iota of stress must be ward off.
With a side eye, I followed her movement to the seat. We exchanged a romantic gaze, the one which melted my bones and after a few seconds, I stepped down, wiping my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand. The maid had prepared the coffee hot with low sugar just as Love it.
Appreciating her perpetual beauty once again, I at once put on a smiley face and thought about the first time we conversed over the phone.
“Please, don’t call my number again” she had said in a stern voice. “I am not interested in any of your offer. Let me face my studies!”
She was of course a fresh student who needed the time to know her new environment, but for the fear of her falling into the wrong hands and her impeccable beauty which had encapsulated my whole heart. The encouraging words from my colleagues made me push further even amidst oppressing and demoralising competitors which I had presumed, till I finally got her YES after persevering till her sophomore.
I thought back to that moment from over thirty years ago, and smiled to myself as I sip gently from the hot cup in order to avoid a blistered tongue.
Sitting on the next available arm-chair behind her, my eyes beheld an old wooden box with the body well crafted with patterns; it seemed to have come way long from the past.
“Where did this come from?” I murmured without alerting her.
As I felt a little cramp on my left leg, the right one jerked while I managed to stretch in order to get it open.
The box has a collection of old stuffs most of which are in written form and pictures. Immediately, I knew who the owner is but how come this has skipped my sight all these years?
I giggled at the sight of one of her old pictures. The background had on goers who appear to be students; it must have been a year in the university. She looks cheerful and hearty wearing a purple gown with a long braid hair style flung up with her right hand in pose. Those eye lashes appear longer. “Could she have fixed them?” I thought with a raised eyebrow.
Her big smile which had sent out a dimple was attracting and it makes me wondered what may have happened in the moment before the photograph was taken.
I dug and dug deeper and deeper into the box. The box refreshed my memory so much. I closed it silently immediately she stood up to take her own turn on the treadmill.
*************************
Two nights ago, Damilare came home He was inevitably absent at the celebration last year due to his housemanship; marking the end of training in the medical school in Nigeria.
The chronology of the event disposed to him by his siblings which were evident also in pictures had arouse an indomitable determination not to miss any again for whatever reason. He boarded a night flight and the stress of getting to the house that same night knocked him off. His double blanket is his favourite for all nights whenever he comes around.
“A lot of changes are happening back home dad” he had said in one of our numerous discussions the following afternoon. “The terrain is now a fertile one for great international investors and I want you to join as well. The land is really green now. I think you and mum should start packing.” He had smiled.
*Clears throat* “I have been working here for the past twenty one years and I am enjoying my work” I had replied him “Anyways, your mum and I have discussed on several occasions about it. We shall do something soon.”
“Since I was expecting a mail, I checked your Post Office box a few days back and it was heavily loaded with several envelopes” He brought them out and handed them over to me.
“The NIPOST expressed their regrets and tendered an unreserved apology to the entire public. There were mix ups some owing to the accident encountered by one of their delivery van long time ago and I think the lackadaisical attitude of some of their workers adjoined to the mess. So I think it took time to sort most out.”
As I check the back of each envelope most of which are old and soiled with rust, my attention was caught by one sent to me by my wife who is preparing dinner in the kitchen for the family. It has two postal stamps on it and was dated December 12th 2016; that is about fifteen years ago.
I quickly cut it open to read.
Sweetheart,
Since my providentially place of primary assignment is a no-network area and it will without doubt cost me a thousand naira to get to the town which is forty-five minutes drive from here, then I better make use of this post office as it appears to be the only way to get across to you until I get back home, more so, It is cheap and my first time of exploring one of the oldest means of communicating shouldn’t be a bad idea.
I have enough post-camp gists for you already.
Imagine, just my second day here, one of the village’s chief who is well revered by everyone is already showing interest in me for a wife-probably as the third or fourth one. Lol.
He had referred to the mole at the right side of my mouth as a sign of prosperity which the gods showed him long time ago. But I was able to seal up his lips by revealing my wedding ring.
I have missed you so much. How is your work and hope you were able to find some new lullaby for my little prince, Damilare? I am sure you will give kudos to every mother out there.
Anyway, I have completed all registrations and the ‘allawees’ should start flowing in by month ending. lol.
It saddens my heart that we couldn’t celebrate this day together, but a belated birthday party will be much appreciated honey. **eyes-rolling**.....
I don’t want to be overcharged- i don’t know how the system works here. Therefore, I will drop my pen in the basket of love till I see you in two days time,
Your wife,
Amaka.
The blank space below the letter was smeared with lip paints. She had sent kisses in the letter.
I went straight into my library and picked up my pen and another blank paper and I write.
Dearie,
RE: Dec. 12, 2016.
It is quite unfortunate that your letter arrived years behind schedule.
The envelope must have suffered a lot hitches on transit, but i am glad to read every word afterwards.
It really dawned on me like your service year was yesterday- a refreshing but tough year for me. The cleaning, washing and baby-sitting of Damilare.
If we couldn’t be together to celebrate it that day, then I am more than happy to celebrate this glorious moment with you, and please accept this conditionally belated reply as my birthday gift for you today.
By the way, I saw the box outside the gym, the collections inside it were indeed of old times, but it gave me a refreshing nostalgia- I married the most beautiful woman on earth.
Love you now and always.
Bamidele.
********************
With a staple, I affixed the reply with the initial letter; I enveloped it and then wrap it up simply with a fancy paper. I returned and gave it to her while sitting on the chair.
Smile rented her face and she couldn’t hold back those tears.
“Happy birthday to you honey” I hugged her and kissed her fore head.
_END_
©Akinsehinwa Damilola, August 3, 2015.
I had woken up earlier with my sweater on, promising myself to complete the running exercise on the new treadmill before taking my hot coffee that chilly morning.
The doctor had advised us to in order to maintain a good health and heart function.
“You know the temperature here is so low and you need a lot of warmth lest you wake with a frozen arm” he had said light-heartedly.
“Top of the morning to you dear” Amaka said in a soft voice as she moves lightly across the gym towards the arm-chair in the lobby facing the garden and waiting for her own turn.
I only read her lips to get the message as my earphones are fastened to my ears, but I replied her immediately with a thanks-don’t-distract-me nod, keeping up my determination.
I need to keep fit before the evening’s party. Business partners and colleagues most of who are whites will be coming around, so all iota of stress must be ward off.
With a side eye, I followed her movement to the seat. We exchanged a romantic gaze, the one which melted my bones and after a few seconds, I stepped down, wiping my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand. The maid had prepared the coffee hot with low sugar just as Love it.
Appreciating her perpetual beauty once again, I at once put on a smiley face and thought about the first time we conversed over the phone.
“Please, don’t call my number again” she had said in a stern voice. “I am not interested in any of your offer. Let me face my studies!”
She was of course a fresh student who needed the time to know her new environment, but for the fear of her falling into the wrong hands and her impeccable beauty which had encapsulated my whole heart. The encouraging words from my colleagues made me push further even amidst oppressing and demoralising competitors which I had presumed, till I finally got her YES after persevering till her sophomore.
I thought back to that moment from over thirty years ago, and smiled to myself as I sip gently from the hot cup in order to avoid a blistered tongue.
Sitting on the next available arm-chair behind her, my eyes beheld an old wooden box with the body well crafted with patterns; it seemed to have come way long from the past.
“Where did this come from?” I murmured without alerting her.
As I felt a little cramp on my left leg, the right one jerked while I managed to stretch in order to get it open.
The box has a collection of old stuffs most of which are in written form and pictures. Immediately, I knew who the owner is but how come this has skipped my sight all these years?
I giggled at the sight of one of her old pictures. The background had on goers who appear to be students; it must have been a year in the university. She looks cheerful and hearty wearing a purple gown with a long braid hair style flung up with her right hand in pose. Those eye lashes appear longer. “Could she have fixed them?” I thought with a raised eyebrow.
Her big smile which had sent out a dimple was attracting and it makes me wondered what may have happened in the moment before the photograph was taken.
I dug and dug deeper and deeper into the box. The box refreshed my memory so much. I closed it silently immediately she stood up to take her own turn on the treadmill.
*************************
Two nights ago, Damilare came home He was inevitably absent at the celebration last year due to his housemanship; marking the end of training in the medical school in Nigeria.
The chronology of the event disposed to him by his siblings which were evident also in pictures had arouse an indomitable determination not to miss any again for whatever reason. He boarded a night flight and the stress of getting to the house that same night knocked him off. His double blanket is his favourite for all nights whenever he comes around.
“A lot of changes are happening back home dad” he had said in one of our numerous discussions the following afternoon. “The terrain is now a fertile one for great international investors and I want you to join as well. The land is really green now. I think you and mum should start packing.” He had smiled.
*Clears throat* “I have been working here for the past twenty one years and I am enjoying my work” I had replied him “Anyways, your mum and I have discussed on several occasions about it. We shall do something soon.”
“Since I was expecting a mail, I checked your Post Office box a few days back and it was heavily loaded with several envelopes” He brought them out and handed them over to me.
“The NIPOST expressed their regrets and tendered an unreserved apology to the entire public. There were mix ups some owing to the accident encountered by one of their delivery van long time ago and I think the lackadaisical attitude of some of their workers adjoined to the mess. So I think it took time to sort most out.”
As I check the back of each envelope most of which are old and soiled with rust, my attention was caught by one sent to me by my wife who is preparing dinner in the kitchen for the family. It has two postal stamps on it and was dated December 12th 2016; that is about fifteen years ago.
I quickly cut it open to read.
Sweetheart,
Since my providentially place of primary assignment is a no-network area and it will without doubt cost me a thousand naira to get to the town which is forty-five minutes drive from here, then I better make use of this post office as it appears to be the only way to get across to you until I get back home, more so, It is cheap and my first time of exploring one of the oldest means of communicating shouldn’t be a bad idea.
I have enough post-camp gists for you already.
Imagine, just my second day here, one of the village’s chief who is well revered by everyone is already showing interest in me for a wife-probably as the third or fourth one. Lol.
He had referred to the mole at the right side of my mouth as a sign of prosperity which the gods showed him long time ago. But I was able to seal up his lips by revealing my wedding ring.
I have missed you so much. How is your work and hope you were able to find some new lullaby for my little prince, Damilare? I am sure you will give kudos to every mother out there.
Anyway, I have completed all registrations and the ‘allawees’ should start flowing in by month ending. lol.
It saddens my heart that we couldn’t celebrate this day together, but a belated birthday party will be much appreciated honey. **eyes-rolling**.....
I don’t want to be overcharged- i don’t know how the system works here. Therefore, I will drop my pen in the basket of love till I see you in two days time,
Your wife,
Amaka.
The blank space below the letter was smeared with lip paints. She had sent kisses in the letter.
I went straight into my library and picked up my pen and another blank paper and I write.
Dearie,
RE: Dec. 12, 2016.
It is quite unfortunate that your letter arrived years behind schedule.
The envelope must have suffered a lot hitches on transit, but i am glad to read every word afterwards.
It really dawned on me like your service year was yesterday- a refreshing but tough year for me. The cleaning, washing and baby-sitting of Damilare.
If we couldn’t be together to celebrate it that day, then I am more than happy to celebrate this glorious moment with you, and please accept this conditionally belated reply as my birthday gift for you today.
By the way, I saw the box outside the gym, the collections inside it were indeed of old times, but it gave me a refreshing nostalgia- I married the most beautiful woman on earth.
Love you now and always.
Bamidele.
********************
With a staple, I affixed the reply with the initial letter; I enveloped it and then wrap it up simply with a fancy paper. I returned and gave it to her while sitting on the chair.
Smile rented her face and she couldn’t hold back those tears.
“Happy birthday to you honey” I hugged her and kissed her fore head.
_END_
©Akinsehinwa Damilola, August 3, 2015.
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