Papa Soldier 2 (A short story).

 

     

Mama and I exchanged glances. There was an awkward silence.

We watched as Papa pressed his cell phone against his ear, all he did was to say yes twice and nod. The call ended, and he heaved a deep sigh, I knew he was in a Dilemma. 

“The bus leaves in 10 minutes, they will soon be here to get me.” He said to no one in particular. I simply turned my head away. My instincts don't lie, he won't come back to us. 

“So, they cannot wait till the weather is better?” Mother asked with furrowed eyebrows. The rain had stopped but it drizzled at that moment. Awkward silence again, the birds taking full control of the atmosphere.

“Okay...sit” Papa waved to our old leather brown cushions. “Please” He added. I pretended to not hear but at the same time, caught Mama's eyes. Those eyes though, they speak for her so well. I reluctantly sat, still looking away. His big ted talk was the last thing I needed.

“Listen, I understand how both of you feel. This was sudden but I promise, I will be back soon. It's only a three-month deployment cycle. We all have family and won't be kept for so long. I have to do this. Those terrorists must be rooted out. You cannot expect young and inexperienced colleagues to go for this, they need old hands like us. This is our fight”. 

He paused. 

“It's not your fight” Mama spoke up. Her voice cracked and she looked so fragile. “ The system is bad already. I have this bad feeling, my love. If they lose you at that war front, they only lost a soldier. If I do, I lost everything”. My heart skipped a beat. Poor Mama.

“Oh, God. Abii, I will be back. Even if I die, I died in an honourable manner and that will leave my footprints in the sands of time. That's not even the case here, I'm coming home soon to go through the labour night with you. Trust me, please”.  He said reaching for her arms.

They had completely forgotten that I was present. Seeing both of them that vulnerable, I didn't know how to feel.

The phone rang again, a bus honking so loud very close to earshot.

"Just pray for me” Those were his final words. He picked up his suitcase, dusted it and slung it on his shoulder. He looked helpless and sorry. Still, he made his way out. No hug, no nothing for me. Only a short eye communication saying he was going to be back.

I felt something on my lip. Ije, no tears. I wiped it off and braced myself. All I cared about was to comfort Mama. I knew pregnancy had a lot to do with hormonal imbalances. She was overreacting but I didn't blame her, maybe a little. I wanted her angry like me.

We were left alone in this cold, sad and quiet house. 

...

Wet. A knock on my head.

Wait, what?

Ah! Baby Ejike vomited on my Easter floral dress.

Mama gave me the stern look as I slowly came back to reality

“Are you blind?!” Mama scolded “How can you hold a baby like that just after a bottle. I don't blame you, always sleeping, even in God's house!” She spat and carried him from my arms.

He chuckled with his right thumb in his mouth, ugh!

Eyes on me accompanied with side comments, busybodies. The embarrassment. How long could I have slept for?

Anyway, I'm glad it was only me recalling what happened last year in the form of a dream. Although I was not sleeping, I swear it!

I know what you're thinking, Papa, is fine now and healing from a bullet wound on the right leg.

Breathe.

Ije and Ejike.

Image source: Google.

By: Anakor Vanessa M.

This short story was inspired by a song I listened to days ago. The message is that not all endings of this kind are always sad and sometimes, we have to pass through trying times just like Ije and her family.

Meanwhile, my favourite character is Papa. His calmness in chaos is one to emulate. 

Now tell me, who is your favourite character and why?

Let me know in the comments. Don't forget to share with your friends. 

Image credit: Google