Chapter Thirty-One

She opened the gate and observed that everywhere was strange and odd; a soldier went inside before her and then summoned her to enter the house. The soldier walked his way through to the door, and on getting there, Mary's father opened the door; his appearance looked pale. He had reduced his weight. The soldier saw him and then greeted him. Then the soldier stepped aside, giving a clear view for Bianca to see.

"My daughter, why did you come back from school? I thought the lecture was still ongoing," he asked, recognising Bianca's face.

Bianca then rushed and embraced her adopted father, "Dad." She echoed with tears in her eyes, ready to pour out, but she controlled herself.

"Welcome Bianca."

She then signalled to the soldier standing on the verandah to leave.

They both walked into the house. She sat down on the chair immediately.

"Dad, I saw some scary things, but I don't know how true they are."

He giggled, "My daughter, anything you see that made you leave your precious school is a hundred percent true."

She screamed and screamed before collapsing on the chair with her back to the ground. Her adopted father came nearer to her.

"Bianca," he called out.

No response.

"Bianca," he called again, but still no response.

"If you die, Bianca. What am I here for again? It is better that I die too and go and meet my two lovely daughters right there in heaven."

He stood up with tears in his eyes and then walked up to the bathroom. He filled the bucket with water and rushed out with it, pouring it on her. Bianca revived again. He saw her closed eyes. He noticed her limbs were shaking.

"God, thank you," he said piously.

He turned her head to face the ceiling, and her body slept upright. He opened her mouth and blew a breeze from his mouth into hers. Bianca opened her eyes, the panting for air had reduced significantly.

"Dad, is this you?"

"I am still the one," he answered.

"Please hold my hand."

He held her hand very quickly, firmly, and tightly. "Dad," she echoed out.

"My daughter. Don't kill yourself; if you do, I will commit suicide to meet you guys."

"I don't know what you are saying, Dad," she said.

"But at least you can recommend my voice and my face. Just regain consciousness, and I will be back."

He left her and walked into the room built specially for Mary, where he slept on the bed.

Thirty minutes later, Bianca woke up; she had regained full consciousness. She walked to and fro in the sitting room.

"Dad!" she shouted.

There wasn't any response.

"Dad, Dad!" she shouted with anxiety, walking up to the room.

"Bianca, were you calling me?" he said with a husky tone, wiping away his tears.

"It is me, Bianca. Please come to the sitting room. I want to see your face."

"I am coming soon," he answered.

"OK," she said again, and sat in the chair.

A few minutes later, her adopted father came to the sitting room and sat down on the chair beside her, grabbing her hands tight.

She gave him a strange look.

"Oh, I am sorry. Did it pain you?"

"No, dad, I love it. You are holding the grief I have tight; I want you to strangle it."

He giggled and smiled.

"Dad, how did it happen?" She spoke up.

"My daughter. During prayers, why didn't she pray against death? She was pressing her phone. Now she was gone. May she rest in peace." He pitifully voiced his grief.

She looked at her adopted father in an awful way, then stared at the newly installed plasma TV.

"Dad, that wasn't the question."

"I have answered the majority of the question: My daughter."

"How?" she asked curiously.

"Do you remember the New Year's Eve watchnight service?"

"Oh, I do," she said, recalling how she summoned her to pray, which she did.

"She never prayed; she wanted to please you instead of God."

"God isn't human; he doesn't work in a human way, Dad? Do you know maybe she had prayed for forgiveness lately?"

"My dear, we are not talking about forgiveness here. I said prayers against death. Maybe that was the expiry date for Mary to pray against death; God should answer that prayer, and so any other prayer against death apart from that day was futile, and she decided not to pray. It's just a pity for her. May her soul rest in peace."

Bianca's face flushed, her eyes popped out, her eyelid reddened, and then her eyes became teary. She used her hand to press her eyes deeply into their sockets and then released them. Just enough to keep the tears at bay.

"Dad, please tell me. How did you discover that she was dead?"

"It's been nearly two weeks now since she passed away. She told me over the phone that she was returning home to retrieve one of her important documents that she had left at home. I told her she needed to get permission from school before leaving, which she did.

One week later or so, after we had that phone conversation, I saw my phone ringing in the office, and I rushed to pick up the call since it was her number, and then I overheard someone, in a harsh male tone, threatening her to say her last word to me. I was wondering if it was a dream or a real-life event. I called her name; her response was cracked and weak. I wasn't myself. She didn't respond again. All I just heard was a loud scream, and then I heard them say 'mission accomplished'. The line went blank for a minute and then went dead. I called the number again. It was switched off. I nearly ran mad that day, to the extent that I was almost sacked because of gross indiscipline. But who cares when you hear your daughter scream. I jumped into a taxi and rushed back home. Lo and behold, I saw a pool of blood trickling down to this chair, where we are sitting now. I traced it to where she was lying lifelessly with a knife stuck to her throat. In fact, it wasn't something to say.

Just three months after her graduation from the university, she is dead. All of life is empty. I just know. A fact that no man can dispute. All my struggles for her are rendered useless."

Tears trickled from his eyes, which he cleaned instantly, and he then consoled the weeping Bianca to stop crying.

"Please, I hope you didn't tell anyone." he said.

"I didn't tell anyone," responded Bianca.

"I was surprised to see you here. I don't know who told you." He said, boldly, "That person should be a suspect."

"They sent it to me using her Facebook account."

"They are smart guys… they accomplished their mission perfectly well."

"Why did you say so, Dad?"

"Because of their timing, the phone number they used worked well. But I know that everybody involved in her death will either die or run mad throughout their entire life on earth. I am sure of that."

"Amen and amen," Bianca cried out passionately.

"Come, let me show you where I dug a hole to bury her corpse," he said, motioning Bianca outside.

They went to the garden where Mary had planted her so-called beautiful crop. Bianca remembered those lovely days when Mary told her about these amazing crops and how important they were in her life because they kept her from spending too much money on food. She reminisced about her jovial life, the motherly advice, the corrections, and her encouraging words. Bianca just nodded her head in sorrow and grief.

"Dad, didn't you take the knife to the police for them to help you track the culprit."

"I don't want to waste any funds again on her. She has died. There is no need to waste more funds."

"It's just too painful."

"You are now my remaining hope and source of aspiration. I know that one year from now you will graduate, and I am very sure that your ceremony will be bigger and fatter than hers. So please pray and consecrate your life to God. Let him use it."

"I would do as you had advised me, Dad. I promise not to disappoint you."

"I trust you, my daughter." He embraced her, saying, "You feel too weak. I hope you have eaten."

"The appetite isn't there," she said. "I don't want to eat anything."

"Don't say this again; come in now and eat something," he summoned.

He walked back a little, thinking about going inside the house, then he turned back and saw Bianca still gazing at Mary's graveyard. He shouted her name angrily. She returned his rage with her gaze. She turned back, walking towards her adopted father's path sluggishly and tearfully. The trauma was still raging all over her body. She looked down at the floor, where her tears had fallen. She pondered why on earth God had decided to bring her into it.

"Bianca, why am I emotionally stronger than you?" cried her adopted father, "I thought the younger ones were emotionally stronger than the older ones, but the way you react make me think twice."

She looked up at him and nodded. "if he had experienced all of this situation, I had gone through in my life, and was still alive, he would not make a statement like that," she thought.

"Dad, it is not easy to bear the loss of my only sister on earth." She walked up to him.

"I know, my dear," he said, patting her shoulder.

"But your cry wouldn't bring her back."

"God, brought me to this earth, to cry all through my life. It is nothing more."

"Shush," he quietened her instantly, "don't say this, God isn't the one cooking all these problems for you."

"But I am sure Satan doesn't have the right to do so."

"Is that what you think, my child?" he said, sympathetically.

"I am very sure, Dad."

A tear dropped from his eyes, "Do you know that Satan saw Job's bright future and wanted to dent it?"

"I knew, dad, but God gave Satan the go-ahead order."

"Because God knew that Satan's tricks would fail."

"Dad, do you mean that my loving God has given Satan the go-ahead in my life?"

"If that's so, just take note that Satan has failed."

"But why would God allow these at this critical time?"

"Who is man, to challenge his creator. God knows best, my daughter. Come inside and let's eat our evening meal."

He walked inside, while Bianca trailed him on his back.

One week later, Bianca was miraculously relieved of Mary's agonising death, but the spot of her grief could still be found within her. Every afternoon, after Bianca had had her lunch, she took a chair and went to stay at the side of Mary's grave. She believed that Mary was bored, as at that period of time, her presence there, might serve as a companion to her. She smiled and muttered some words, to no one in particular, before she sat down on the chair.

"What are you doing, Bianca?" her adopted father spoke out.

She trembled and fidgeted upon hearing his tone.

"Dad, Mary is bored. I want to keep her company," she echoed, smiling with a sultry face.

"Okay?" He smiled.

"Yes, Dad," she said, staring at him and walking inside the house.

She scuttled back to her chair, sitting down on it. Just then, her phone rang, and she took permission from Mary before picking it up.

"Good day, sir," she began.

"Bianca, how are you feeling now?" the vice chancellor asked gallantly.

"I'm great; what about you, sir?"

"Nice to hear; I am also good, but I am feeling quite depressed with your absence for over a week now."

"I'm so sorry, sir, I will be travelling back tomorrow."

"That sounds interesting, I just can't wait to see you. Should I call the military to pick you up?"

"Yes sir."

"I will do whatever pleases you, my daughter."

"I'm very grateful, sir," Bianca appreciated, sincerely.

"Take care of yourself. Bye for now."

"Bye."

The phone call was terminated. She smiled at herself, dropped the phone on the ground, and continued her conversation with Mary. She invited Mary to assist her in making bangles with the beads she held in her hands.

She heard the door screech and opened it. Her adopted father came out, walking towards her. She continued her activities nonetheless, until he came to her, and smiled graciously at her.

"Who called you?" he began.

"My VC called to see when I'd be back at school."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I would start travelling tomorrow."

"Oh nice. Eventually you are ready for school."

She smiled, putting the beads on a tiny thread. He sat down on the floor, taking the beads scattered on Bianca's blouse with the thread, and began making out bangles with them, at the same time chatting and laughing with Bianca and hoping Mary would laugh alongside them.