Chapter 19

The week after my encounter with Uncle Robinson (Sword) was lonely. Every day grew lonelier than the previous. I dreaded school and coming back home after school was not even helping that much, because most of the kids went on a holiday during the week, and so there was almost no one to play with.

I didn't even have the mind to play. I was not free. I grew restless everyday as a result of my experiences. Whenever I wondered where the kids went to, I would ask their parents for the umpteenth time. "To their Granny's or Grandpa's", their parents would say whenever you asked them where their sons and daughters were.

It was lonelier because mom was not usually around when I needed her. She left for work in the morning, around 8am and didn't return until late into the night. She basically had her day off home. I wonder who was she always out with. Could it be that guy?? She was pregnant for God's sake! But she didn't care. She always returned home tired, but happy. You know that feeling when you're so tired and all you need is a long deep sleep, but it's not a sad kind of tired. It is a 'tired' you get from having achieved or gotten what you wanted so badly. It was so evident on mom's face.

"I'm tired baby, we'll talk about it tomorrow" she would say with so much joy written on her face. She'd stay up by her computer all night, video calling that new guy. For all I cared, he was still a stranger to me, so I couldn't be happy for mom yet. But for some reason, I liked the new mom I was seeing. She was more cheerful and alive. I wondered what would happen when Cameron would return though. If Cameron returned to see a wife that now wore makeup and wore tight dresses hugging her curves which had been long hidden in big clothes. What would he do when he returned home and found a pregnant woman, his wife dancing and twerking to music in their room. That was one of the things mom did every night, after she returned from wherever she went to. She'd play music so loud that I'd have to tap her to reduce the volume so my ears wouldn't blow. Then, she'd dance and wriggle her butt to the music, while making some sexual glances at the wall. It was fun to watch,but I found it strange. Mom never listened to hip hop or pop music. It was always solemn, countryside music, gospel or nothing else.

Her transformation shocked me to the roots and I knew it was only a tip of the iceberg. There was so much more to still show Cameron. She had her plans in stock, and I only had to be patient to watch the whole drama unfold. Mom returned home at half past 10 every night. Everyday, she apologized for returning late, when she came to collect me from Mrs Hawkins, one of our neighbors whom I stayed with, after school.

"I'm so sorry darling. Come over here, mom is back" she'd say pulling me into a hug, and then thanking Mrs Hawkins for taking good care of me, but I wish she'd return home earlier because I had a lot of things to tell her all the time, besides, I wanted her company. She was the only real family I had around. No matter how kind Mike was, I was not his daughter.

When we entered the house, mom would switch on all the lights, asked me if I've had supper, and then tuck me to bed. Then, she'd go to the guest room and have a long call with a man she called "sweetheart". Sweetheart. That sounded strange, because she didn't call Cameron that.

"I used to call him that in the first year of our marriage. I stopped in the second year after he turned into a monster" Mom had told me once. So she called him just "Cameron" now. If it wasn't Cameron, it was an insulting name then. I sigh whenever I remember her words that night.

Like I was saying, Mom would make a long call into the dead of the night with this strange 'lover', laughing and blushing over the phone. It made me remember Nora. Nora the nurse. I remembered I had prayed that mom experienced the same happy love life Nora had, and now that it was here, I was still not happy. I wanted my mom back. The mom that gave me attention. I wanted her. I needed her, but she wasn't there.

Mom would go to the hospital on weekends and then return home only to make lunch and then go to bed without eating. She began to grow more and more distant from me, from everyone actually, except this strange 'lover' of hers. Day by day, I began to anticipate Cameron's arrival. He stopped calling for a while and then picked up calling again, but this time more frequently than ever. It was something that got you wondering. He started to call her more frequently and whenever he called, all he did was ask questions and questions upon questions.

"What did you do today? Where did you go to?"

Mom would laugh and say, "To work of course"

"And then?" He'd press further. He usually sounded like he already found out about her affair

"I went to get my nails done. Now I'm back home with my daughter" she'd say with some emphasis on the "my"

"Your daughter? Nails??" He would bark on the phone, and then laugh this throaty, wicked laughter that made you want to slap him hard on the face.

"Yes, my beautiful daughter,Ariana May, and yeah, Nails" she'd say hurting his emotions. It was fun to watch mom do this. She'd definitely grown some wings, and I sincerely hoped at these times that, Cameron would not come home to cut them off.

"When did you start doing your nails? You always have them bare, and keep them short, don't you?" He would ask calmly, but with a tone of confusion mixed with rage.

"Yeah, Cameron, but that was then. You know when you're in slavery, you are not able to look good, or take care of yourself, but when you're free? You become hella gorgeous and happy" she'd say, laughing. I'd be right beside her smiling in mock satisfaction too. She'd wink and I'd smile back at her. Mom was about to turn into a free woman.

"Whatever is slavery? What do you mean by slavery?" He would ask. "You are just tripping'" he would mutter on phone. Mom usually placed the call on loudspeaker mode, and put her phone on the table, so that her hands would be free to prepare some smoothies.

"Babe, I am free now, don't you see that? I ain't even tripping" She'd say, smiling. "Free, free like a bird" she'd sing with a tone of mockery.

"Babe? You rarely call me that. I mean I can't remember when last you called me that. Anyways, I think the pregnancy is getting to you. You're talking like a psycho"

"You think so?" Mom would say. "Aww, I thought you were a smart ass"

"Listen, Ruby, stop playing with me!" he would yell. Goodness Gracious.

"Thanks Goodness the phone's not on my ear. Are you about to come home to a deaf wife? Why are you yelling?" Mom would say, trying so hard not to laugh too hard.

"I'm giving you this warning one more time: Stay indoors. Immediately you finish from work, get back inside and be a good woman!" He yelled some more. I merely shook my head. What kinda guy was Cameron?

"I'm not a stay-at home mom, you bastard. You don't get to tell me what to do anymore!" Mom would scream into the phone, with her lips shining in the light.

"Bastard? Ruby, you call me bastard??" He would sound shocked and hurt and angry all at once.

"I'm not only going to call you a bastard. I'm also going to hang up right this minute!" She'd say and press the 'End' button immediately. Then, her mood swings would set in. Instead of looking and feeling victorious, she'd look so sullen. You know that look you have on your face, when you're so confused. The i-just-need-a-hug countenance. Yeah that was the one.

"I'm sorry darling" she'd say to me. "I'm sorry you have to see all these. I'm so sorry" she'd say. I'd just nod, not knowing what to say.

I was concerned, but at least I was glad that mom was happy and fine. She stopped calling me to massage her feet for her or rub pain relief on her back, like she did every evening when she felt pain.

She'd hold a side of her stomach and groan. Sometimes she'd cry when she couldn't hold it in any longer. I touched the part where it ached with warm water which I boiled myself, because I didn't want mom to have to go to the kitchen to do it. I'd massage her forehead, side, lower back and feet with the water, and thereafter rub a pain relieving ointment on it. Then she'd lay down on her back and close her eyes. It didn't last. Her position on bed like this didn't last long.

About ten minutes later, she'd get up complaining of feeling uncomfortable. Her stomach was too big to make her comfortable. Then I'd ask her to stand up, prop plumped pillows underneath her stomach and help her lay gently on her side. It worked, but only for a while.

She'd wake up again and sit up all through the night crying. She was too tired to cook, so I did the cooking on many evenings. She usually complained that the food was too saucy, despite that there was no pepper in it. She'd complain but she'd eat it all. She ate like an elephant. I don't know if that's a thing because I don't even know how elephants are, but mom looked like an elephant already, or a potato, whichever one.She actually doubled her size. She ate all the time and still complained of hunger.

Sometimes, I did get tired of attending to her because she was annoying. I usually did hide in my bathroom and lock myself up, so that she'd not find me, and I'd not have to answer to her errands, but when I had a rethink, I'd go back to her and cuddle her, and sing lullabies for her. I was always pleased to see her feel better.

Well, that was mostly all that happened at home. As for school, the search for the missing children was still on. The two geniuses-Anita and Joe. When time was going and Joe didn't appear yet, I tried to force my mind to believe and agree that he was dead. That he had being killed. Maybe he had paid with his blood too, for revealing the secret of their cult to me, and also revealing my kidnapper's identity to me. It was a grave offence, remember? Joe knew the consequences but he dared to do it anyways. Probably he was tired of being constantly bitten by the dark secrets that shaped his life. He was ready to even die and have some peace.

For some reason, I cared to know about him. I wanted badly to know how this little boy was initiated, how he lost his parents, and how he's been coping with life all that time. Like he said, he's lost both parents and my kidnapper was his foster daddy and his initiator. Joe lived fine. I mean, he brought good food to school, wore fine, exquisite and presentable clothes and foot wear but he was not happy. Did his foster daddy buy those things for him? Or they were benefits of his scholarship?

I needed to know? Why did he kidnap me? Who is Martinez? Where was that cold, dark underground room located? I didn't know. All I know is that it is located in a quiet place. Very quiet, maybe eerie even

Did Martinez and his co-men kidnap me in order to initiate me into their cult? I knew that Martinez was a pedophile, judging by their statements about him. He wanted to rape me. He did rape young girls my age, or maybe not my age, maybe a little older. Was that how girls were initiated into Blue Wolf? Maybe Blue Wolf was more than a cult. I don't know what to call it but it sure is something way bigger. Anita, before her death had been Sword's(Uncle Robinson) betrothed wife. They not only slept with little girls, they also marry them and owned them, so if they trespassed, they'd be killed. I think they married them so that they would not think of running away or maybe it was to reproduce children that'd populate their kingdom. Martinez had his preference in teenage girls though.

The older man had said, "Martinez likes them young and big, but at least let them grow breasts" Only God knew how many girls had fallen into this evil man's trap, but I knew that one day, he'll be caught. This I held on to, and of course, I was grateful that I was not chosen. I might never have had the chance to be free ever again.

I sat at my desk at night, writing to Joe. Since I couldn't find him, I needed to communicate my feelings to him through another way.

"Hello Joe. Where are you? In heaven or in hell?

I don't know but I hope this message meets you well.

I wonder if you died or ran for cover, somewhere far away

Are you gone forever or will you come back again?

We need to talk, you and I, Joe and Ariana

Please come back and explain all you told me the other day

Do you know about Anita?

If you were here when she was slaughtered, what would do or say?

Are you safe or you're on an endless race?

Are you stuck in the woods or in a close in terrace?

Please return because you haven't answered my questions

I hate these rules and I shouldn't be bound by these laws

I wanted to ask someone about your whereabouts but I live in fear

You have to return or my heart will have more tears

--Clumsyline--

It was more like a poem but I didn't even mean to give it end rhymes. I just wrote right out of my mind. There was a superstition I believed. If you had a message to send to someone distant or in heaven, fly it in a kite and send it far away, watch it until you can't see it anymore. Then, it is safe and your message will reach the person. It was silly but I believed in it. I had tried it once, when I was four. That time, mom's mother--My granny was very ill and so, mom had gone to her place on a visit. She didn't take me with her because it was a long journey. Five hours on water, she told me. She didn't want me to be sea-sick, so I stayed with Mike until she returned. But mom didn't return until six days later. That was the longest we had been apart.

She had told me that she'd be back in three days, but she took three more days, but not without calling to hear my voice. I also spoke with Granny.

You must have realized I didn't talk about any granny when I started my story. That is because I only saw her once. Maybe twice. Nothing special. I liked her because she was very beautiful and kind. But she never visited and mom never took me to visit her. I think she was there when I was christened, and then the other time I saw her when when I was three, at a function in town. She had travelled down all the way from Ohio, just for the function. It was the wedding ceremony of her sister's daughter. Her stepsister. That was the last time I saw her. She rarely called too. I didn't know why. It seemed to me that she was unhappy with my mom.

Like I said earlier in my story, a lot of things were confusing to me when I was a kid. But I was soon to unravel most of the mysteries as I grew older in age and wisdom.

So, on the third night after mom departed to Ohio, I began to get worried. The day was starting to darken and I hadn't got her calls. Cameron even complained about it. I heard him say she wasn't taking his calls too. I was scared. I thought mom's ship had sunk, or she lost her way, or she was attacked and someone took her phone. I have always been worried for my mom. So, that night, I stood at the edge of the sea,(or was it a large ocean?) some metres away from the estate where we lived. That was where her ship was going to stop. I knew it. I stood there until the sun rested, and everywhere was dark. I sat on the soil and called her name in the night but every ship that came by didn't have her in it. Cameron did come to meet me there in the cold, and asked me to go inside the house.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "Go inside"

"No I don't want to" i told him. It wasn't like he cared. I didn't know why he did that. After persuading me to no avail, he left me alone out in the cold and went back all the way home, without me.

My book was in my pyjamas' pockets,, and my pen too. A small phone was there too. The one she gave me before she left. " I want to speak with you directly. Keep this phone safe, don't let Cameron see it" she warned me. My hair danced in the wind as breeze blew on my body softly. I hugged myself and waited for mom. Cameron didn't come back to check on me. I waited and waited for her call but nothing was forthcoming, then it dawned on me that mom would not be returning that day. I didn't have airtime on the phone, so I ran back inside the house to plead with Cameron to buy me some, or at least let me use his phone.

He was angry. He refused to yield to my requests. He tried to sieze the phone from me but I ran out of his house and back to the edge of the sea. That was when I remembered the superstition I believed in-If you had a message to send to someone distant or in heaven, fly it in a kite and send it far away, watch it until you can't see it anymore. Then, it is safe and your message will reach the person.

So I wrote a letter to mom, fixed it in a kite, said some prayers of hope and flew the kite. The wind blew it away since it was too light. It went far away, over the sea and landed in the middle of it. Then I turned towards home.

Immediately I got into my room, her call came in. I was so happy to hear her voice. She told me good and bad news--She was safe and would be returning in three days, and the bad news? Granny was dead.

That was the first time I'd use the kite superstition. I was going to try it again for Joe. So I fixed that letter I wrote, rolled it into a pipe and fixed it in the middle of the kite. I made the kites myself, I cut cardboard and nylons and feathers to shape them, and light skipping ropes for the handle.

When it was fixed, I went outside , said some prayers and threw it up. It came back to me, but then I tried it again and it flew, far far away and landed somewhere I could not really figure. A big smile played on my lips.

I wondered if it fell in some magician's magic pot and he collected it, read it and decided to honour a little girl's wish. Maybe that was how it happened, because the next day, on our front porch, early that Saturday morning was Joe.