I

  Time

  I spoke with Ebuka’s uncle after Chisom and I concluded the hand-over. At first, my plan was to be quick and straight to the point. Then race to the canteen for something to eat before returning to the call room until Dr. Aliozor called.

  Returning to my quarters just wasn’t very feasible. The interval between when we finished and the time Dr. Aliozor gave would be too short to achieve anything meaningful like say a proper bath with cold water, heating food, with all the little things they entailed.

  Also, the logistics of it all. Chartering a bike directly to my doorstep. And unless I paid the bike rider to wait for me, chartering another one back to the CHER in time. I assumed we’d rendezvous here since Dr. Aliozor had said nothing to the contrary. For sure he wouldn’t want Ebuka’s uncle and I at different places when he came calling.

  But Mr. Peter’s demeanour when I told him we needed to talk made me change tactic. The man had plastered his face to the too-small-to-see-through window of the PICU entrance door. And he didn’t follow me out the first time. It was on the second try. Even then, I glanced back more than once to ensure he was close behind.

  “Doc anything?” he asked, trying to put on a brave face. The conversation was in Igbo and pidgin English. This is a translation.

  “Oga sorry o,” I started slowly. “It’s not easy. But Ebuka is in safe hands. Everything will turn out well.” I prayed to God I wasn’t wrong. Full steam ahead, I didn’t allow the silence that followed fester. “Dr. Aliozor wants us to go to your village today to check some things.” I was very careful to use only what Dr. Aliozor had said. His omissions speak as loudly as his words, and he’d said nothing about why we were visiting the village.

  “Doc will I leave everything I’m doing to visit the village?” He indicated at his phone. “Look at my mother. She’s too old to do all this running around, calling. Must we go today?”

  Had the man been attentive, he’d have noticed I was nodding. In truth, I’d started nodding the second he replied. Initially, it was that yes, I understood his predicament. At the end, it meant yes, we must go to the village today.

  He asked me to clarify. “Must it be today?” Then talked right over my answer. “If you can tell me what we’re going to do there, I can call one of my guys from the village to take you.”

  I re-iterated that Dr. Aliozor thought visiting the village was important. Maybe he wanted to see Mr. Peter’s sister or talk to the nurse. I wasn’t saying that was the reason, but that he’d do well to trust the doctor who sited the IV line for his nephew. Calling whoever from the village, they might not get here in time. God knows time wasn’t on our side. There was no need to tell anyone at all we were coming, I ensured to add.

  “Even pesin wey dey look after my sister?”

  A slight pause from me. “Maybe. Yes,” I said, voice low, unconfident. “But no other person.” Dr. Aliozor would take care of transport. I’d ask one of my colleagues to help with the running around in the hospital in his absence. Ours was to be ready at 5:30.

  He seemed convinced.

  Nevertheless, changing to mufti, I stayed in the call room some minutes longer peeking in on the passage way whenever there were footsteps. Lest the man disappear despite our conversation.

  When leaving for the hospital canteen I asked James to call me if, before I returned, Ebuka’s uncle had been absent for longer than three to five minutes. But I wasn’t really expecting it as Dr. James’ mind had seemed elsewhere when I’d told him and I’d given some half-assed reason I wanted him to call.

  You can imagine my surprise when my phone rang. He must have stepped out soon after me, I thought of Mr. Peter. However, it was an unsaved number.

  Dr. Aliozor’s voice. “Come with the boy’s uncle to the entrance gate in five minutes.”

  Was he watching me? “Okay.” Phone still pressed to my ear, I glanced around as he ended the call. No one was behind me. Child hawkers were on the floor just below the passage opposite me. There was the usual activity around the canteen still some distance away, people going to and fro.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  I don’t recall what the time was. 5:19 maybe. But I raced back to the CHER. The five minutes would have expired before I finished my business at the canteen and returned. And I feared causing delay, especially where every second might count. The fact Dr. Aliozor called, if he even suspected…

  So I ran, not caring who saw. My phone could ring again – let it. Burying the urge to keep track of time, I kept my eyes on the CHER until I reached it. Please let this man not have gone his own way. God, let him be where I left him.

  I got to the Emergency on the nearer side of 5:30. And who should I meet at the door but Ebuka’s uncle.

  “Ah, Doc., pesin dey chase you?”

  I shook my head, breathing hard while dabbing the sweat and stickiness from my body. The evenings these days were quite humid. Why was he at the entrance, smiling? I thought. Had Dr. Aliozor called him too?

  “You remember you ask me dis question night we bring Ebuka. Wen I come return from oda emergency.”

  Oh yeah. I nodded, handkerchief pressed to my forehead.

  “I dey ask dat other doctor where you dey—”

  “Dr. Aliozor…” I shut my eyes. “The doctor wey ask you question for inside…” I pointed to the side of the Consultant’s office. “…the one wey suppose meet us soon, im call you?”

  “Not dat one. The younger one wey appear dis evening, dey wear dat blue—"

  “Okay,” I said, dismissively. “But the one wey ask you question before, im call you?” Though he answered in the negative, my doubts persisted.

  “I just wan ask whether we still dey—”

  “Yes, we dey go. Him say make we come hospital gate now, now. Bike wey go take us gate dey for dat side,” I said, pointing in the direction of the Surgical A&E. I’d waved down a bike near the place on my way back.

  He replied in Igbo, already turning around: Let me tell mama. She’s just here in the passage, he added, probably gleaning my impatience from the expression that appeared on my face and how I moved with him. (I made a quick sign to the bike rider before going. Hopefully, the reward of two passengers rather than one would be enough to hold him.)

  It was 5:30 pm. Dr. Aliozor would be calling again anytime now. Someone needed to hurry the man up. A suitable excuse when Dr. Aliozor called. The part of me that still believed Dr. Aliozor had spoken with him over the phone thought: he wouldn’t be doing this now if Dr. Aliozor had called him.

  We were on course to spend not more than one minute there. He talked to his mother for less than that. But he made his way into the CHER proper right after. He wanted to see Ebuka before we left. I would have gone after him, but the grandmother held my arm and started talking, voice low. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead.

  Perhaps they were delaying, looking for a way out… Except she’d voiced no opposition when he’d mentioned taking us to their village just now… Honestly, between these thoughts and my tense state, I could pay her no mind. Until she said something that caught my attention.

  “…Meanwhile, D?c, biko, e nwere ihe m ch?r? ka I nyere m aka…”

  If an old woman asking for help doesn’t melt one’s heart, I don’t know what will. Unfortunately, my phone started to ring. Hoping she would finish fast, I delayed answering.

  “…? ma n’ilek?ta Ebuka ad?gh? mfe n’aka Peter. O dighi ya mfe. Biko, nyere m aka na ile ya anya ka unu na-aga n’ime obodo…”

  Perhaps if Ebuka’s uncle hadn’t come out that moment, I would have understood her better. Thinking she meant Ebuka, I nodded as she asked if I’d heard her, Peter and I leaving.

  Dr. Aliozor called again before we reached the bike rider. We’re on our way now, I said. Ebuka’s grandmother and uncle had been sorting out hospital matters.

  “Stop outside the gate,” he said.

  The best thing about our bike ride was the breeze billowing through my shirt as the rider sped (as much as is possible to speed on a bike with two passengers) towards the gate. It’s one straight road that separates into two lanes proper around the hospital market/vehicle park with speed bumps on each lane. The park contained few people and fewer vehicles.

  We also passed the entrance of the hospital chaplaincy, St. Anthony of Padua. The main building is farther back, on a hill. Which brings me to Dr. Aliozor’s remarks concerning Mass. I was having no qualms of conscience about missing Mass. Somewhat disappointed perhaps. But according to the catechism, this only constituted grave sin when done deliberately, without just cause. This wasn’t the case here.

  “There,” I said, spotting Dr. Aliozor standing beside a keke parked on a path to the left of the road leading into the hospital. There was still light enough to see. Dressed in a short-sleeved brown senator top, black trousers, and palms, his eyes were on his watch.

  “Doc, I think say dat other doctor wey ask me question for inside been dey here,” Ebuka’s uncle said after I’d paid the rider and he’d gone. “You say him call you. Him comot?” he asked, glancing around.

  Shit! Dr. Aliozor and I shared a look for a second. He wasn’t smiling. I looked away first, expression souring. Of course I’d forgotten. He hadn’t given me any reason to remember either.

  Mr. Peter’s confusion wasn’t surprising. He’d never crossed paths with the broad-shouldered, dark man sporting a beard and afro with streaks of white in them. At least not in this semi-true form.

  Were they always this white? I thought helping Dr. Aliozor explain ‘Dr. Bernard’s’ absence to Ebuka’s uncle. Explanation done, we got into the keke and set off for the village.