Adulteress; Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Mosquito coil for sale! Bonanza price! Hundred naira per pack! Make all the mosquitoes for your _domot_ hear "wii!" Fine aunty, come and buy. Aunty, I dey call you!"

Amara squinted at the dark skinned trader. He stared back at her and called for her patronage again.

"Can he see me?" she muttered.

"Aunty, na hundred naira only!" the trader said and hurried towards Amara as if she were going away.

Amara leapt out of the way and watched the trader brandish his goods to an elderly woman behind her. There had been no need for the leap. The trader's footwear had brushed her leg but she had felt nothing. From the way he went about his business, Amara was convinced that he had not seen her.

Amara walked on. It was strange, this new feeling. She felt so light, like air. She would bump into people and apologize, but she wouldn't even feel them and they wouldn't notice her. Time also passed strangely. It was as if a day was made of three hours.

Amara was thoughtful. She was meditating on all she had heard from Mrs Olu and Chidimma. She knew they had been talking about her but she just couldn't face the fact that she was...

"Dead?" she muttered. Then she shook her head and let a man carrying a large parcel walk through her. There was no point moving out of the way.

Somehow, she ended up in the church graveyard again. She had been ending up there ever since she di... Ever since she grew invisible to everyone.

Then it began again.

She stared at her tombstone and the recollections rushed in. It was like a limbo, never ending, never changing.

Before her eyes, she saw how she had broken down at Desmond's funeral, after the Priest had closed the coffin for the last time. She saw herself break her many days of silence before her late husband's family when Robert, who had kept their affair a secret, came to give his condolence. She had made a clean confession, of how she had caused Desmond's death. Although Robert had been scandalized, it was Amara who had received all the blame and hatred.

In fury, her mother-in-law had thrown her out of the house and the families of sympathizers would have torn her to pieces had she not escaped quickly.

Amara watched herself take refuge in the home of Chidimma, who treated her kindly and refused to believe Amara had committed the crimes she had confessed to.

The agony was not soon over, for Amara found that she had taken in.

"Oh, cursed seed!" Amara exclaimed as she relived the agony she had suffered on learning that Robert's evil seed, her lustful seed, had sprouted.

Her heart contorted in more pain as she reflected that the child should have been Desmond's, for they had waited so long for it.

Amara had waited long for it, but now she hated it. She would not let it grow. She concluded that it must die!

Her attempts to harm herself or the child were laid waste to by Chidimma, who was ever watchful, patient and comforting.

The pregnancy grew; Amara watched it with loathing. All the hatred she had for Robert, the cause of her misfortune, was transfered to the unborn innocent. Nothing, not even Chidimma's love and encouragement could change her mind. It was either she or the child would live.

Amara's memory blurred on the last day of her life. She couldn't really recall what had happened. She only knew her bitter heart had blinded her senses, and when a brief opportunity had presented itself, she had surrendered her life to the cold hands of...

"Death?" Amara shook her head and looked up. The recollections faded like a dream, the ones that slip through your memory when you try to grasp them.

She gave up trying to remember and walked away in search of something.

What was she searching for? Maybe Mrs Olu or Chidimma to tell her more about how she had died. She needed to remember.

She walked towards the busy street again and looked about curiously. As usual, the people walked through her as if she wasn't there. It seemed to be another day because the trader she had seen a while ago was wearing a new set of clothes and the big electronic billboard by the street showed a different date.

It was happening again, the limbo. Soon she would return to the graveyard and begin those painful recollections. She always had the sensation that she was reliving her end. The pain, agony and hate always felt so acute, so sharp!

She tried to avoid the road to the graveyard, but somehow, she ended up there again. Then she began to wonder, "Am I dead?"

The same thing happened again. This time, her recollections began on the night of her betrayal of Desmond. As she relived the moment, there was no joy or pleasure in Robert's touch; only dreadful pain and pure misery. She screamed at how bad it hurt, but there was no relief for her.

The recollections ended and Amara was left with a deep loathing for the man that had ruined her.

"Robert!" she snarled wildly. She left the graveyard, again, in search of him. There was no point, she thought as she stopped. Despite her anger, she felt a force restrain her. Revenge was impossible. She knew she could not harm him because he was alive and she was...

"Dead!" Amara exclaimed and fell on her knees with a cry. She wept. After a while, she looked up and beheld two eyes staring at her from a stern face. The owner of the face beckoned her and she followed. With one step, she was out of the graveyard and in the backyard of a certain house.

The limbo is over, she thought with a sigh of relief.

A little girl sobbed.

Amara noticed her for the first time and drew closer tenderly to comfort her. When the child raised her head up, cold fear seized Amara, for she looked into her own face.

Amara needed no Angel to tell her that the poor child was hers, and Robert's.

To be continued.