HOOK, LINE AND SINKER (Episode 1)

Hello wonderful people and ardent readers of TyFaith's Blog. Since this is my first post for the year, I would like to wish everyone a very happy new year (even though we're four months into the year already😊).  I hope we've all been having a productive 2017; working on our goals, meeting up with set targets, and following up on those new year resolutions.

A new short story series begins today and I'm hoping you will all enjoy this story as much as the previous ones.

I present to you HOOK, LINE AND SINKER!

Enjoy the read, share with friends and family, and remember to share your thoughts on each episode with me.

Cheers!

Faith.

***

• This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidences are either the products of Faith's imagination and (actual places) are used in a fictitious manner . Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

...Faith Olatunbosun 

The year when I first missed my regular menstrual period and panicked to a nearby clinic to confirm my worst fear, was the worst year of my life in the entire 28 years of my existence. I tried to stay composed as the young female doctor called me into her office to break the news. I was 25 years old at the time and I was shocked beyond words for a few minutes before regaining consciousness and realizing that the doctor had been dishing out the usual code of conduct for handling this phase of my life. I remember hearing "congratulations once again", and that was it. I stood up, straightened my shirt and skirt, while ignoring the polite doctor's outstretched hand as I walked out of the clinic.
Two days later, I was told that I had swerved out of the road while driving home and I had hit a pole, which by the way, was my saving grace from probable death. I don't know how my parents or anyone for that matter found me and took me to the hospital.

"Anike mi" were the first words I heard from a known voice; mother. I struggled to open my eyes while the pain that surged through my entire body stemming from my head region tried to stop me.
After a few more attempts, with mum patting my hand gently, I finally opened my eyes.

I was glad I noticed the smile on mum's face first before meeting the other pair of eyes piercing through my entire body.

"Let me get the doctor" Father (that's what we all called him; not Dad, not Daddy, not Pops, or any other cool term for 'Father') said sternly and walked out of the hospital room.

The memories of the last two days came back on their own with father's reaction. The doctors must have found out "I was with child" during the medical examination, and my parents must have been informed.

Mum's gaze was fixed on me. I tried to look away, but she turned my face to herself every time. We looked at each other and said nothing. I began to cry when I noticed tears welling up in mum's eyes. She sniffed a little, turned her face towards the door as though she was expecting Father and the doctor to walk in any moment. She then bent to pick up her handbag from the floor and brought out a handkerchief. She lovingly wiped the tears off my face, felt my head with the back of her palm and let out a weak smile.

"You're getting better. I hope you get discharged soon... " she began.

"Tomi and the others can't wait to... "

"I'm so...oorr....yyy mum... " my voice broke as I interrupted mum's attempt to continue a regular conversation like nothing was wrong.

I kept saying "I'm sorry" quietly but mum only sighed intermittently and wiped her face with the same handkerchief every now and then.

"I wonder what is keeping your father. " she ignored my pleas and began searching for her phone in her bag. Thankfully, a call came in and eased the search. It was Father. He had gone home after seeing the doctor, who already assured him of a steady improvement in my health and was going to come to my hospital room to check up on me, yet again. He was going to send the driver to pick up my mum once he was home.

"Hmmnn... Okay" was all mum said throughout the conversation.

I was too afraid to ask for details of the conversation and mum was less concerned about passing on information. It was not as if I deserved it, anyway.
The doctor came in a few minutes later to examine me. He took some notes and assured mum that I would be discharged the following day.

I dreaded my return home but I had to go. Father wouldn't speak to me. Mum conversed with me more often but never spoke of my pregnancy. My younger siblings tried to cheer me up. I was unsure of their knowledge of the pregnancy but I dared not ask them.
After two weeks of awkwardness in what used to be our lively home, I returned from work one day and barged in on father in the study.

"I'm sorry Father. I'm a disgrace and major disappointment to the Akande clan and I know it. I'm terribly sorry Father. Please forgive me. I have dragged the precious name of this family in the mud and I am ready to serve whatever punishment you decide to mete out on me..." I was crying profusely by this time, kneeling and trying to move close to my father.

I couldn't blame him for acting the way he was. He was the literal 'just man' of our extended family, a moralist to the core, a pastor in a popular Pentecostal church that rose through the ranks, a disciplinarian, but most of all, my best friend. He worked so hard to ensure his family was comfortable. He trusted us (or made us feel that way) to make the right decisions and thankfully, neither of us had disappointed him up until that year when my life turned upside down and I ruined everything with my stupidity.

I kept crying and calling "father". He closed the book before him, removed his glasses and turned to look at me.

"You will bring the boy responsible to my office on Monday." It was the coldest tone I had ever heard father speak.

I wiped my tears, sniffed a little and moved my knees nearer to his chair. He moved the chair, stood up and walked out of the study, leaving a shattered me on my knees. Once he was out of the study, I began another round of tears. I was officially Dead! How do I bring 'the boy responsible on Monday?'

***
04 March 2017
Blue Waters Cuisine
6.05pm

"Peju... where is he?" Bisola said in a stern but low tone as soon as her cousin picked the call.

"Calm down jor. What is wrong with you? You're never patient." Peju responded nonchalantly.

"I'm not calm, I won't be calm..." Bisola retorted.
"You know nothing else pisses me off than a man who never keeps to time..." She continued rather angrily.

"Sis... sis..."

"Yes?" Bisola blurted out.

"Your makeup is smearing already" Peju replied, and then began to laugh at Bisola's pause on the other end of the line.

"But seriously, he's on his way. Don't get all worked up, else you'd mess up your fine face..." Peju continued cheerfully.

"I'll deal with you once I'm home. Just pray he's as fine as that picture..." Bisola relaxed a bit and let out the smile that was already forming on her lips while listening to Peju.

She ended the call and wondered how she ever let her cousin convince her to get all dressed up to meet a total stranger. She wondered if her case had gotten so critical that a blind date orchestrated by her cousin and not-so-little sister was the next point of action. She had everything going on smoothly for her; great career, supportive family; a progressive relationship with God; three degrees and several professional certifications in the bag.
She scrolled through various apps on her phone for the umpteenth time, shaking her feet underneath the table, as she sipped the drink she had ordered for herself. She checked her wristwatch and that was it. She had waited enough. It was now 6.45 pm. The guy must have changed his mind; who knows? Maybe he showed her picture to some of his friends who went ahead to dig up dirt on her...
What dirt? She took a moment to ponder on that question before gulping the remnant of her drink and getting up to take her leave. She picked her purse and phone and began making her way to the door.

A young couple were already at the door, trying to make their way into the restaurant. Bisola paused to allow the couple in before stepping out. She noticed the cute baby bump of the woman walking in with just her phone in hand, while the husband  held her handbag and walked behind her. A brief smile enveloped Bisola's lips for a moment. As she continued her walk towards the door, she perceived a familiar cologne. She knew that smell. She looked up at the couple in an attempt to confirm whose cologne she had just perceived but all she could see was the man pulling out a chair for his wife. The young wife was all smiles and it melted Bisola's heart.

Bisola soon dismissed the need to confirm the source of the cologne and made her way out of the restaurant to the spot where her car was parked. Just as she turned on the ignition and headlight, she noticed a man alighting from a Toyota SUV in a hurry. He pulled out some notes from his wallet, threw them at the driver and rushed off to the entrance of the restaurant. Bisola paused a bit to watch him walk in and then walk out of the restaurant to ask the doorman a few questions. He brought out his phone and began dialing a number.
Bisola looked at her phone as it rang a few times. She let out a long hiss, and then began to laugh at the thought of what she would do to her cousin that set up the date.

She tuned her radio to Bloom FM as she drove out of the car park while reminiscing on the young couple that came in, but more particularly on the smell of the man's cologne.


***HOOK, LINE AND SINKER by Faith OLATUNBOSUN