CHAPTER SEVEN

After the school assembly, I sat in class to take attendance.

As I called out each name, the students responded, and I made a point to observe their faces.

The two students who had missed class yesterday were present today, making the class complete.

Once I finished marking the register, I asked the two students who had been absent to stay back.

I started with the girl. "Your name is Nelly Mathias right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied.

"Why were you absent yesterday?"

"My dad told us to stay back," she said.

Her response took me by surprise, but I decided not to press further to avoid being seen as intrusive.

I let her return to her seat.

The boy began explaining himself even before I had the chance to ask. "I got discharged from the hospital three days ago, and my mom said I needed more time to recover before coming back."

"What happened?" I asked, concerned.

"Appendicitis operation."

I felt a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm really sorry to hear that. Please make sure you let me know if you feel any discomfort."

Then I addressed the whole class. "This goes for all of you—if you feel any discomfort, no matter how small, please inform me, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused in unison.

I noticed that five students, including Swanta, were struggling with their grades.

I called them up one by one.

The first was a short, chubby boy with thick hair and a deep voice.

"Your name is Jephther Crayon, right? Tell me honestly, what's your after-school routine like?"

He cleared his throat before answering. "Actually, ma'am, when I get home, I eat, play football, watch Nickelodeon, and then do my homework before bed."

"What about revising what you learned during the day?"

He looked puzzled, and I immediately understood where the issue lay. "After school today, meet me in my office. I'll help you organize what to study from today's lessons."

As they returned to their seats, I headed back to my office on the eighth floor.

I bumped into the Mathematics teacher in the elevator.

His flirtatious gaze made me uncomfortable, and to my annoyance, he followed me toward my office."We have a variety show this Sunday," he said, "and I'd love for you to come. I'll be performing—I play the violin. Please do me this one favor, for old times' sake."

I was puzzled. "Old times?"

He chuckled. "You really don't remember, do you? Nat, the chubby kid with the glasses from primary five?"

I gasped as recognition dawned. "Nathaniel Dwayne! I can't believe it's you!"

Overwhelmed with excitement, I hugged him. "Where did all those baby fats go?"

He laughed. "They've gone to the pit of hell, and they're never coming back, in Jesus' name!"

We both burst into laughter, and I invited him to join me in my office for coffee.

He seemed to genuinely enjoy the way I made it, and I was thrilled to reconnect with someone from my childhood.

Juliet would be surprised to hear that I'd met 'Fatty Nat' again.

Still curious, I asked, "How on earth did you recognize me after nearly twenty years?"

"I kept tabs on you over the years," he admitted. "Through high school, college, even your marriage. The only thing I missed was when you got divorced."

"I didn't get divorced. My husband passed away."

His face fell. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It's complicated. I don't really want to talk about it."

                             ***

I woke up at exactly five in the morning, determined not to miss the Sunday service that Nat, with all his cheerful persistence, had invited me to.

Juliet had agreed to come along after I recounted my dramatic encounter with Nat the night before.

I quickly roused her from sleep, eager not to be late for Sunday school, which started at seven.

We drove to the church, following the address on Nat's flyer.

When we arrived, the church was much larger than either of us had imagined.

We joined the first Sunday school class we found, where the teacher was speaking about salvation.

He explained how God pours his Holy Spirit on those willing to embrace his word, guiding them in every aspect of their lives.

I had been attending church since childhood but had never truly believed in the Holy Spirit.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself standing up to ask, "How can you be so sure that the Holy Spirit exists?"

The teacher's gaze was intense, as if he could see right through me.

He stepped closer, the room hushed as he approached.

He gently placed a small red Bible in my hand. "I discovered the Holy Spirit through this book," he said. "It was this very bible that let me hear his voice for the first time."

I was taken aback, wondering how he knew I didn't own a bible. "But we read it growing up," I replied. "It just seemed like a book of stories written in old English."

He smiled gently. "When you answer the altar call after the service, go home and start reading this book with the intention of finding out if the Holy Spirit truly exists. He will reveal Himself to you."

Those were his final words to me before we moved on.

After Nat's ministration, the pastor spoke about hearing from God.

It was the most profound message I had ever heard, mysterious and deeply moving.

During the altar call, Juliet and I stepped forward, sincerely asking God to come into our hearts.

The drive home was silent, both of us lost in our thoughts, our minds processing the morning's events in a way that felt almost surreal.

When we got home, we ate in silence, then headed to Juliet's room, where we pulled out our new bibles.

"This is the first time I'm going to read this book with real intention," Juliet said, breaking the silence.

I nodded, deep in thought. "I used to read it like just another storybook. Tonight, I'm going to read twenty chapters. Ten every day until I finish it."

"Me too," Juliet agreed. "Five chapters in the morning before work, and five at night before bed."

"We'll set an alarm to make sure we stick to it. I want to find out if what Christians say is true, if this faith is more than just a myth."

Juliet nodded again, a serious look on her face. "I don't think it is. When we went up for the altar call today, I felt this overwhelming urge to cry, for no reason at all. It was like someone was there, watching over me."

"Someone? Like one of the church members?" I asked, a bit skeptical.

"No," she said softly. "It didn't feel physical. It felt...extraordinary."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "You're starting to imagine things."

Juliet looked at me seriously. "Have you ever known me to be the type to imagine things?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Then why would I start now?" she sighed. "I was thinking...maybe tonight we should ask the Holy Spirit to speak to us."

I chuckled again, a bit more nervously this time. "He doesn't even know who we are, if he exists at all."

"Do you think it's just a coincidence that we ended up at that church today? Do you think we were there just because of Nat? I think someone is being intentional with us, and we need to find out who that is."

That night felt different for both Juliet and me.

We didn't watch a movie or take a stroll.

Instead, we stayed in our rooms, crying and talking to someone we weren't entirely sure existed.

Was the Holy Spirit real, or just a figment of our imaginations?

My room was silent, save for the faint sounds of lemongrass swaying outside and distant traffic.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I was suddenly reminded of my current predicament.

I had been trying to distract myself from the pain, from my life, but in that moment, it felt so easy, so natural, to open my mouth and speak about exactly how I was feeling.

I began, "Holy Spirit, I hear that You exist, that You've touched lives and continue to do so, but for some reason, it feels so easy to talk to You about how I feel right now. I don't know why, but I'm struggling to find hope, to embrace life again. I'm traumatized by the thought that there's nothing left for me in this world. When I walked into that church today, I felt a glimmer of hope. I don't know where it came from, but I felt the need to lay my burdens down on that altar. Please, save me from this darkness. Help me find the hope to live again."