Munachi

|Chapter 28|

The feel of William's arm around my shoulder and the weight of his body leaning on mine as I helped him into the house had stayed with me all night long. I hadn't been able to sleep until it was very late, as the memory of his body near and close to mine replayed in my senses over and over again.

It's still with me when I woke up this morning. I feel ashamed and embarrassed with myself for having spent the night in the throes of these feelings. The sooner he leaves here the better!

Ring-ring . . . Ring-ring . . .

“Hello?”

“Hello. This is Dr. Frank speaking.”

“Oh, hello, Dr. Frank,” I say.

“I'm sorry to inform you that I won't be able to come pick up William Constant. But I'll be sending a person of mine tomorrow instead. I just wanted to inform you first.”

“That's great, Dr. Frank. I'm looking forward to seeing him then.” I sigh. Before returning onto the veranda where the crowd of people are still waiting for me.

Being it Friday and clinic day, the locals come to my house for medical treatments. There are children with burns or cuts. There are usually a pregnant woman or two, and sometimes there are men with swollen eyes from beestings or cut lips from fights. I line them up and examine them one by one, dispensing medicine and ointments as needed.

I'm about halfway through attending to my patients when the front door opens and Jamal steps outside, supporting William. He takes him a big chair and eases him down onto it. I find myself acutely aware that William is watching me, which makes me lose my concentration. I drop my stethoscope. I suddenly have trouble remembering my French. And the more embarrass I become, the worse it gets. With a lot of difficulty, I manage to set my mind back on the child with the rash on his torso that I'm examining.

I move on to the next patient. Each patient that I examine become an ordeal for me. I simply can't concentrate at all with William's gaze on me constantly. By the time I'm finished seeing everyone, Jamal has already brought lunch out, and William is at the table waiting for me. I hurry into the house to wash up and slide into my chair, far more exhausted than I usually feel.

I say the grace and add a quick silent prayer that Dr. Frank will send the person he'd promised and come to fetch William Constant immediately. I turn to William and ask how he's feeling. He's a little sore, he says, but he feels he's getting better.

His appetite is improving, and he's very adept now at eating with one hand. “Dr. Frank phoned me hours ago. Says he wouldn't be able to come pick you. But he'll be sending someone instead of him coming over,” I announce cheerily.

“When is that?”

“Tomorrow,” I reply.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” William sounds glumly.

I somewhat feel terrible, but I simply cannot explain to him that the feelings I'm developing for him are the reason he has to leave urgently.

We finish our lunch in complete silence. Jamal takes our plates away when William suddenly says, “You know, I noticed the apprehensive look on your face when I asked you about your country. You seemed so afraid for a split second. And you were completely lost in thoughts.”

“It's nothing at all. You're mistaken. You saw wrong, William.”

He smiles at me. “Are we back on a first-name basis?”

I feel he's trapped me, but I recover quickly. “I figured since you'll be leaving tomorrow, then I'm willing to agree on a first-name basis.”

“Thank you, Muna.” But there's no warmth, only irony in his voice. But why? Why does he not want to return to his own life in Bamenda? Why does he look so crestfallen at the mention of his departure tomorrow.

I strongly feel I need to get away from this whole complication in my life. I should go and see if the foundations of the clinic are finished, but it's getting late.
As the sun begins to set, I lay back on my chair and close my eyes. A moment on, his voice makes me reopen them.

“I've been wondering what brought you here to Cameroon.”
I remain silent. My eyes staring towards the setting sun.

“Well, don't you want to tell me?” he asks.

“I'm just doing what God has called me to do,” I say. “I was inspired by a missionary, Reginald MacDougall, to go into missionary work. I heard him speak about his faith in God. I was so impressed by how he wanted to really live out the calling that God has given us in the Bible to go out and make disciples of all nations. I didn't intend to come to Cameroon, though. I applied to go to South Africa. But the Missionary Society assigned me to Cameroon. So here I am.”

We fall silent momentarily, before his next question catch me unawares. “So, you've never been married?”

I suddenly feel irritated. “Why do you keep asking questions concerning my life!”

“Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I don't mean to—”

“Don't bother apologizing,” I say, rising from my chair and heading into the house.

In the evening, after washing up for supper, I return to the veranda with William still sitting in his chair. I feel terribly guilty for how I behaved towards him earlier. I just didn't want to talk or recollect about the past. It's been so many years, yet the pain feels so fresh and green. But still, that doesn't justify my action.

I sigh, before breaking the silence. “I'm sorry for the way I behaved towards you earlier,” I say, without looking at him.

“It is all right, Muna. I should not have asked you such personal question.”

I know I can never get my painful past out of my head and mind. But I think the only way I can feel a little bit better, is if I open up to someone. Perhaps talking about it might help in some way. Probably lessen the painful feeling it gives when I think about it.

I heave another sigh before I begin. “I was married once, actually. To a rich business owner. My marriage was, well, at first kind of perfect in my perspective, but one thing was missing. I didn't have a child.”

I carry on explaining everything to him and he takes particular interest in everything I say. When I'm done, I keep my gaze to the floor. I don't want him to see me, the tears trying effortfully to crawl its way out.

“I'm so sorry to hear that. I cannot imagine what you went through. It must have been a terrible ordeal for you!”

I sigh, and blink back those tears. “It's late. Your pickup man will be here bright and early, and you'll have a long day traveling, so you'd better get some rest.”

I rise up and help him out of his chair. We walk into the house and into the bedroom, and I find myself thinking that this will be the last time I'll feel the weight of him on my shoulder.

When we reached the bed, William stops. I look up at him, and he leans closer and kiss my cheek. “Thank you for everything, Muna. Thank you for my life,” he whispers, then let go of me and sink onto the bed.

I call Jamal to help William get ready for bed. Then I walk to the lounge and fling myself onto the sofa. I want to cry. I tell myself I'm being too emotional and far too unprofessional, but the tears trickles down my face anyway, and a minute on I find myself sobbing into my palms.

Much later that night, when my emotions are spent, I know I ought to pray. “Lord, please take away these feelings,” I whisper into blackness. “I'm falling in love with William. I need to forget him, Lord. Help me forget him.”