When The Light Dims

Chapter 13: Sopuru

"Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert"
-Isaiah 43:19.

Locked up. She wouldn't let me out. My thirst became unbearable with 2 nights spent in this misery. The tiny space was suffocating during the day. But that was the least of my problems. The house was isolated from town and people hardly paid visit. My skin hair stood on edge when I realized nobody knew exactly where I was. I tried to sleep to prevent my mind from wandering, but sleep fled from me. I sat still, thinking of ways to end my life. I slammed my fists into the door. My hands were numb at first. Slowly, all the energy drained and I felt the pain. I curled myself on the cold hard ground as day turned into night. Cobwebs spiraled on the roof like noodles. Hunger kicked in but when I tried to reach for it, my limbs felt heavier. My eyelids shut under the weight of exhaustion. I dreamt of the door being carried in the arms of a man as Jernora held my hands. It felt as though she was really here with me. Even if I died right now, I would die happy with my last memories of her.

                                           ****

I picked a flash of green as I forced my eyes open. I looked around and found a drip attached to my right arm. Everything was strange to me except Jenora who slept soundly by the bedside. I shook my head several times, unable to believe my eyes. Somehow, I survived.

As though on cue, Jenora stirred awake. Her eye moistened at the sight of me awake. "You gave me a fright." She smothered me in excitement.

A man and woman who looked like they were in their early forties walked in.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" the woman asked. Her intonation was definitely not that of a Liberian like that of Jenora.

The numbing pain in my head had gone and my body was stronger. Thank goodness. "I feel better, thank you ma'am."

"Thank goodness we were able to save you from the hands of that witch," the man spoke. His voice, grievous.

I was grateful too but I still couldn't recall how I got out of mama Teta's hands. I turned to Jernora, my eyebrows raised, hoping she would fill in the gaps.

"Oh!" She squeaked as though she forgot I had never met her parents. "Don, these are my parents, Mr and Mrs Peters." They both flashed beautiful smiles at me. It wasn't that hard to believe her. She had her father's eyes, the same color of the ocean and she looked like the petite form of her mother.

"It's nice to finally meet with you. But how did you find me?"

Mrs. Peters rested her hands on my legs.

"Eat first. We will tell you about that later."

They all stepped out.  Jernora came back with a hot plate of palava and rice. Although I was extremely hungry, I wanted answers. She placed the tray over my laps. When she stood to leave, I held her back. "Jernora, please."

I thought she would ignore my plea but she locked the door and sat beside me. "On the condition that you must eat."

I nodded and took a bite out of my meal.

"Okay. You remember that you left without me that night at the party." Her voice was as low as a whisper. She held her head down.

"Yeah..."

"Well, I got home really late and my parents were home earlier than I expected. I had to tell them the truth, though, I was scared about you. I searched around for you but nobody knew where you were." She was fidgeting. Jenora Peters did not fidget. She must have felt really guilty. "When I didn't see you on Tuesday, I told my parents and they had to find out where you lived. Fortunately, we were able to save you before you died of starvation."

I held her hands in mine. She was shaking and it scared me.

"I'm really sorry, Don. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have talked you into going. I shouldn't have left you that night....."

"It's okay, Nora." I pulled her and wrapped my arms around her. She shook in my arms as I held her tight, my shoulders wet from her tears.

Later that evening, Jernora's parents wanted to have a word with me. Their expressions had me guessing something pressed on their minds. I sat up in anticipation of the bad news. I wanted to let them know they didn't have to worry about me. I was grateful for the lot they had done and if they couldn't take care of me, I understood.

They looked at each other and chuckled. "We don't want to throw you out," Mr. Peters said.

"We have both been recently transferred to Nigeria as pastors and we were thinking about bringing you along with us, that is, if you want to," his wife continued.

"Yes, I can cook and do—"

"No, Donyen." Mrs Peters held my shoulder tenderly. "We don't want you to be our maid. We want to take care of you."

I let out a sigh of relief. Still, I waited for them to reveal it was a joke, but I realized the genuineness in their offer.

"Yes, I would like that." I accepted with a teary smile. I would like to have a family I could call mine.