LAST NIGHT IN EDEN [Episode 1]

Doris maneuvered a pothole as she drove the dusty road to her father's compound. Isele-nta hadn't changed that much from the last time she visited. That was some six years ago. Pewa was barely two weeks old then. She glanced in the rearview mirror to check on her children. Pewa was fast asleep and sucking her thumb but Jordan's eyes were wide open and feeding on his environment. Though eight, he was her rock. She smiled inwardly as she saw him stare at kids rolling tubes excitedly with sticks；he found it fascinating. 

Doris Anayo Diepreye, a twenty-seven year old pharmacist and wife to the Finance minister was driving home to her homeland, her trunk loaded with suitcases. Not on a holiday,

She was running...

“Anayo,” papa called out the second time as he descended the five steps from the verandah.

“mpa it's me” Doris replied, her smile still plastered across her face as she carried a sleeping Pewa out of the car. Jordan was staring all over the compound like he just landed on Pluto.

“I know it's you but ikporom, you didn't call me even your small mother.” 

Mama died ten years ago and Papa was still an active school principal. So when he said he wanted to remarry, none of his children objected；after all, he'd have company n warmer nights. Doris and her siblings fondly called mpa's wife small mother which she enjoyed.

“your numbers weren't reachable.”

“odikwa na nma？ Is everything ok？”

“you worry too much, everything is...”

“Grandpa how come you've got so many chickens all at once in your compound?” Jordan finally spoke in his immaculate American accent.

And at that, Papa burst out laughing and hugged his grandson for the first time in six years.

Ify had returned from her hair salon and was cooking up a storm for her step granddaughter and grandchildren. She shooed Doris out of the kitchen when she had offered to help out. 

“You still haven't told me why you are here.” Papa scolded in his old headmaster tone of voice as they sat in one of the thatched booths in d compound.

“Pewa stop plucking those flowers!"

“leave the child alone and answer me”, papa said in an inquisitive tone.

Doris knew she had been caught in a corner so she avoided papa's burning gaze. The lister generator behind the house was almost silent. Her father's compound was a huge contrast to d world outside the gate. The whole ground was interlocked with lawns on both sides. There were three huge water tanks suspended on iron supports beside the gate man's cubicle that served the community free water every other day.

The interior of the five bed roomed bungalow was an edifice the chiefs always wanted to see on Saturday mornings in d pretence of coming to seek advice for their unruly sons and of course to savour Ify's spanish omelette and tea.

Her father was not a man to give up easily.

“Anayochukwu, oburu ghi kam na gwa okwu (I'm talking to you )"

Her lips felt like lead...

“I ran away.”

“why? ” papa asked in a gentle voice to Doris' surprise.

“I... ”

a long pause.

“when you're ready to talk, my door is always open to you” He patted her gently on d back, got up gently and left.

Doris knew she could always run to papa for anything. Though the rebel of the house, she was his treasure.

Pewa was slicing happily at the flowers while Jordan was reading a comic book when Doris plunged into the well of her past...

To be continued [#TuesdaySpot and #Fridayspot]