Kill Her Twice (Part 2)

At the mention of Kunle’s name, Alex remembered that he was supposed to call Kunle to give him his final approval to kill Dauda.

“Hello! Hello! “Alex spat into the phone, trembling as he realized that the line had disconnected. He hit the redial button with trembling hands, and after what seemed like ages, even though it was just a few seconds, Kunle answered the call. As soon as Kunle answered, Alex barked, “Do not go ahead, I repeat, do not go ahead!”

Alex held on tightly to the phone, as if the tighter his hold, the less likely it would be that Kunle had killed Dauda, and God knows who else. Kunle replied, “I haven’t done the job Boss, I was calling to confirm as agreed if I should go ahead with the mission.” Had Alex not been in such a panic, he might have been amused by how pompous Kunle’s words sounded. He wondered why Kunle talked as if he was some CIA-trained spy on a mission to kill some international renegade assassin when in reality he was just some rodent, the scum of the earth, a sad product of the nation’s failing educational system – an area boy, sent to kill an abusive husband by his wife’s amorous and selfish admirer because of a culture that would not let her walk away from a dysfunctional marriage with her reputation intact.

Alex quickly answered – under Okon’s watchful and perplexed gaze – “No, do not go ahead, I repeat, do not go ahead. Abort the mission! I say, abort the mission!” Some remote part of Alex’s mind that was untouched by the unfolding drama noted Alex’s own choice of words drily. It seemed that pomposity was contagious.

Kunle continued as if he had not heard Alex, “I wondered if I should go ahead or not because just as I was casing the joint, contrary to what you told me that the man will be home alone, a very beautiful woman with a magnificent figure drove into the compound. It was her walk that initially caught my attention when she got down from the car. When I looked closer, I was blown away by her hour-glass figure. Even through my spyglass, I could still see how beautiful she was, and her figure is simply to die for, I almost forgot why I was…”

Alex did not let Kunle finish as he bellowed, “Kunle, get away from there, now! I repeat, do not harm anyone! Abort the mission! Mission aborted! Mission aborted! I will pay you your balance, just get away from there!” Alex continued; his voice hoarse with fear.

Alex did not need anyone to tell him that God, the heavens, some higher power, call it what you will, was trying to get his attention. What are the odds that Kunle would use the exact same words he had used in describing Eno’s figure in the dream? That was too much of a coincidence. Alex didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if any harm came to Eno. He knew with a strange conviction that if Kunle had gone ahead to kill Dauda, he would have ended up killing Eno twice; both in his dream and in real life.

***

After his conversation with Kunle, Alex handed the phone back to Okon, who looked like he would give his eyeteeth to find out the nature of the mission his master was aborting. After he took the phone from Alex, he stood at attention as if waiting to take an order. Alex, who guessed that this was supposed to be his cue to unburden himself, refused to take the bait. Looking at Okon in that haughty manner he adopted whenever Okon was being overly familiar, he asked, “Was there something else?”

“No, Sir,” Okon replied with a crestfallen look.

Alex watched Okon make his way to the door. He was thankful that he could drop his tough boss look and go back to bed. He still couldn’t believe how tired he felt after his dream. Okon had been with him for twelve years and had proven his loyalty repeatedly, especially during the dark days following Adesuwa’s departure. With the long years of service and the history they shared came a familiarity that Alex tried to discourage. He didn’t want to gain a friend and lose an excellent butler. Immersed in his thoughts about Kunle and his dream, it did not occur to him that he hadn’t heard the bedroom door open or shut. So he was a little surprised when he looked up to find Okon standing a couple of meters from him with that same expectant look, like a dog that had gotten its teeth in a juicy bone and was unwilling to let go. Well, two could play the game, Alex surmised as he looked at Okon, donning his most innocent smile. He asked, “Did you forget something?”

Okon, realizing that this was one of those times when he would not get the best of his master, quickly improvised, “I just came back to ask you if you would like dessert with your breakfast.”

Alex’s lips strained at the corners from the effort it took him to keep from bursting into laughter at the sheer absurdity of Okon’s fib. Considering they both knew that Alex never had dessert, Okon was obviously pathetically grasping at straws. Alex almost felt sorry for him. Finally, he gave Okon a look that clearly told him what he thought of his attempt to pry and gently added, “An apple will do just fine.” Okon bowing like someone who had finally realized that he had fought a good fight but he was unlikely to win the battle, nodded, and briskly walked out of the room, closing the door gently after him.

Unable to go back to sleep after Okon’s interruption, Alex walked into the bathroom to take a shower. He wondered if a shower would wash away the self-loathing he felt. Standing under the shower with his eyes closed, Alex felt the warm spray of water pour over him, the tension flowing out of his body, as if being washed away with the soap suds. He did not notice the tears at first, and when he did, he denied them. Until he heard the choking sounds that accompanied his crying – sobbing actually. His chest heaved at the thought of what he had almost done; how far he had almost gone to get someone that wasn’t even his to take. He felt almost helpless with remorse.

He turned off the shower and gingerly walked back to his bedroom, wishing he could turn off the tears as easily he had the shower. Not being a particularly religious man, he found it rather unusual that he was lying on his bedroom floor, crying and praying. He babbled, tears running down his cheeks as he thanked God for sparing Eno’s life and saving him from making what he was sure would have been the greatest mistake of his life. He knew without being told that God, the heavens, a higher power – call it what you will – had shown him a preview of what would have happened if Kunle had killed Dauda. As he lay down on the floor with tears running down his cheeks, forming a little pool on his bedroom floor, some part of his subconscious noted that he wasn’t the sort to cry; the only time he had cried in the last twenty years had been when his mother died.

Alex felt as repentant as could be. With his forehead pressed against the floor, he promised God that he would stop his pursuit of Eno as long as she was married. He certainly still loved her, but he believed it was time to respect her marriage as well as respect God, who, from all indications, did not seem favourably inclined to allow him pursue another man’s wife so brazenly.

***

Waking up from a satisfying nap, Alex marvelled at the curative powers of repentance and crying. He had always thought women weak because of how easily they cry, but maybe there was more to it than most men realized. He felt reborn, not quite certain whether it was a result of the tears or the repentance or a combination of both. Whatever the reason, he certainly felt better. Distracted by his thoughts, he didn’t hear the knocking at first. The sound of someone knocking rather persistently, most likely Okon – as it was unlikely that Okon would let anyone else knock on his master’s bedroom door – disrupted his thoughts. Alex sighed. It seemed like it would be a day for distractions if Okon had anything to do with it.

Alex called out, “Come in!”

Okon strode purposefully towards his master. Seeing the look on Okon’s face, Alex smiled and teasingly said, “What is the matter now? I hope it’s not another matter of life and death.”

Okon stopped a few paces from his master, and the serious expression on his face wiped off the smile on Alex’s.

“Well, out with it, man,” Alex said, suddenly feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand in premonition of some bad news.

Once again, Okon held out Alex’s other phone. “There’s a lady on the phone, she says her name is Eno, and that’s it’s a matter of life and death.”

Alex felt his heart stop. Eno? Life and death? He hoped that it was some sort of a bad joke, but the look on Okon’s face told him it wasn’t. It couldn’t be a joke; Okon didn’t even know of Eno’s existence since she had never visited his home. And why would Eno call his secondary phone when he had assured her that she could always call him on his priority phone? Looking at the priority phone which lay by his bedside as if it had somehow failed him, he remembered that he had set it on silent mode when he decided to take a nap. Taking his other phone from Okon, who looked rather concerned, Alex slowly put the phone to his ear and tentatively said, “Eno?”

“I’m so sorry, Alex, there was no one else I could reach on such short notice,” she began.

Alex thought she sounded well and strong beneath the panic. He was swamped with a multitude of emotions: relief, joy, curiosity, fear.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked.

“Yes, I am fine,” Eno replied.

“But my butler said it was a matter of life and death,” Alex interjected. Remembering Okon, Alex gave him a look that needed no interpretation. Okon quickly walked out of the room, closing the door gently after him.

“Yes, it is,” replied Eno, sounding as if she was about to start sobbing. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know who else to call,” she continued.

“Don’t be silly,” Alex chided softly. “I told you that I was here for you and I meant it. Now tell me what the matter is.” He added. As long as Eno was fine, every other thing could be sorted out.

“It’s my husband, Dauda,” Eno said, now sobbing.

“Dauda? Did he beat you? I swear if he did…” Alex said, voice trailing off.

The silence at the other end of the line made him realize that he had given himself away. How could he have known that Dauda was a wife-beater, considering Eno had not told him anything about the beatings? Hitting himself on the head for the gaffe, he continued, “I…I…I just assumed he beat you because you are crying. Did he cheat on you?”

“No, none of those,” Eno replied, her voice tinged with impatience. “The hospital just called and said he was involved in a car accident and that he’s in a critical condition. I don’t think I can drive myself, I feel as if I’m all thumbs. Can you please come and drive me to the hospital?” She continued, her voice sounding muffled.

“Yes, I will be right over, should be there in less than 15 minutes,” Alex replied.

“But I haven’t given you my address,” Eno replied, sounding confused.

Giving himself another knock on the head for this slip-up, he frantically thought of what to say, “Oh I saw what I assumed was your estate sticker on your car, and I recognized it because I have a friend who lives in that estate,” Alex said, hoping the lie was believable.

Eno seemed to believe Alex’s explanation because she gave him her house address while repeatedly apologizing for disturbing him. She explained that she was new to the neighbourhood and had not had time to make any friends. Alex eagerly agreed to go pick her up, grateful that he had not lost her to death and that he could spend a few more moments with her even if it was just as a chauffeur. Despite Eno’s explanation, Alex knew that Eno and Dauda moved into their home well over two years ago and that the reason Eno didn’t have any friends was that Dauda forbade her from having any, claiming that all the women in the estate were of questionable character. Alex decided it was best to keep mum; all he appeared to be doing was put his foot in his mouth.

Driving in the ever-present Lagos traffic to Eno’s house, Alex felt swamped by his thoughts about her. He knew that he couldn’t bring up the matter of Dauda’s beatings because it wasn’t the right time. In fact he doubted that there would ever be a right time, except Eno chose to confide in him. How in the world would he explain to Eno that he had hired a private investigator to find out as much about her as possible? It didn’t matter how honourable his intention was, he had invaded her privacy when he had had her investigated. He didn’t know how he would make it up to her, but he would give it a really good try. The only reason that might make sense to Eno would be if he were to explain to Eno the reason for his trust issues. If he were to tell that her that ten years ago, he had woken up one morning and found the wedding pictures of his fiancée in the day’s newspapers. She had gotten married the previous weekend, on the pretext of going to visit her parents. By the time he was reading the papers, she had used the twelve million naira he had given her for their wedding, to plan her own wedding. Pity, she had forgotten to mention that he would not get to be the groom. She had used what was left of the money to relocate to Canada with her beau. Only then did she remember to send him an email telling him that her parents would never have allowed her to marry someone from a different ethnic group because her family had royal blood.

Alex had never understood how people in general, and it seemed Africans in particular, used culture as an excuse to perpetrate their wicked intentions. He and Adesuwa had dated for three years, and being a wealthy man, he had ensured that her parents had the best of everything. He had built them a country home, sponsored their summer holiday to Europe. He had also gone ahead to provide the seed capital needed for her brother’s business. Whenever his friends had made a fuss about how much money he spent on Adesuwa’s family, he had always replied that her family was as good as his. After the breakup, he often thought of Adesuwa’s parents and wondered how come they never thought to tell him that he would never marry their daughter. Maybe like his friend Emeka had snidely remarked, their mouths had been so full eating Alex’s money that they couldn’t get the words out.

It turned out that his friends had found out about Adesuwa’s wedding before he did but they didn’t know how to tell him. And so, it was Okon who had left the newspaper with Adesuwa’s wedding pictures next to his morning coffee. Okon who had nursed him through the emotional breakdown he suffered. They never spoke about that period of Alex’s life, but it was always there, a reminder of Okon’s loyalty.

Alex had sworn that he would never fall in love again. His relationships would be no more than dalliances and that he would always know what he was getting into. Then he met Eno, and he fell really hard for her. Scared at how vulnerable his love for Eno made him feel, he hired a private investigator to find out everything he could about her. The demons from his past had almost succeeded in turning the deep love he had for Eno into something ugly, his insecurity turning him into someone he could barely recognize. Thank God he had come back from the brink. He would no longer allow the bitterness of the past to consume him, he would be true to himself, and if Eno was meant to be with him, she would.

***

The drive to the hospital was largely uneventful if one could ignore Eno’s tears. Watching her shed tears for a man who had done nothing but batter her had set Alex on edge. He clenched the steering wheel in silence, not trusting himself to speak.

***

Eno sat beside Alex in the hospital waiting room – her fists clenched in anticipation, waiting for the doctors to come out of the theatre and tell her that the operation was successful. Alex could not help but love her even more. Her loyalty to Dauda, apparent in the way she spent the entire night praying for his wellbeing, left him amazed. He had been drawn to her because of her looks but spending these hours with her had shown him that her beauty was not just skin deep. He knew it was cliché, but he couldn’t help but think she was beautiful inside and out. How such a good woman got saddled with an oaf like Dauda was still a mystery.

Thinking of Dauda and Eno together always gave Alex a headache. And so it was a good thing when he saw the doctor walking up to them to give what Alex hoped were the results of the operation. Eno jumped up first, eager to hear the news about her husband. Alex stood slowly, eyes fixed on the doctor’s face which remained impassive, except for a flicker of something, which Alex didn’t quite catch. Barely able to contain herself, Eno’s long nails dug into Alex’s palm as he held her hand, almost hurting him. The doctor looked at them in turn, his eyes finally coming to rest on Alex and said almost in a whisper, “We are sorry, he had lost too much blood before he got here. If only he had got here earlier.”

Eno pulled at Alex’s shirt, while he stared at the retreating doctor, who looked very eager to leave now that he had passed on the news of Dauda’s death. Eno turned to Alex, asking what the doctor meant. He looked into her eyes and saw that she already knew; she only wanted some sort of confirmation, as if hearing him say it would make it true. At his nod, she seemed to crumble, but Alex caught her before she hit the floor.

He held her as she cried, feeling her warmth and inhaling her scent. He promised himself that he would never let this woman go. All he wanted to do was to somehow take away her pain, to make everything in her world alright, to bring back that smile that always seemed to light up the world. He guided Eno to a chair, and, feeling as if his legs were about to give way, he sat beside her. With his arms firmly wrapped around her, her tears soaking his shirt, he felt such a cocktail of emotions, sadness because whatever made Eno sad made him sad; happiness because he had been given a chance to be with the woman he loved; relief because he had been saved from committing a despicable wrong, even if for the right reasons; gratitude because he never realized how psychologically and emotionally scarred he was by Adesuwa’s betrayal until the episode with Kunle which prompted his healing and granted him closure.

THE END