Don’t be broken, don’t be sad. For I’ll soon deliver the story for which your heart yearns.
Cold, dusty morning. But "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."
Mike rolled out of bed, despite how much protest every bone in his body made against the idea. "We're weak, Mike! Chill the F out!" The bone closest to his brain prayed at him. Though Mr. Cranium knew it was a futile effort to try changing Mike's heart, he made efforts anyway. Jokes are on you, Mr. Cranium.
In an act borne out of habit, Mike slipped into his gym shorts, dipped his feet into the new New Balance kicks Bode gifted him on his birthday, and pulled his favorite tank top on. Easy peasy! That’s such a weird sequence to get kitted. But who’s weird enough to look forward to leg day at the gym? Mike! Every night preceding a workout day, Mike laid his gym wear beside the bed to ward off every spirit of laziness. And like every other time, Mike won, and soon enough, he saluted the estate's gateman as he jogged off into the street.
Dust plastered everything possible. Harmattan in Abuja always ‘hit different,’ but every year, it brought something with it - the spirit of Christmas. In the elite Guzape estate where Mike lived, the house owners always tried to outdo themselves. The competition for who decorated their house the most was always fierce. Like clockwork, on the first day of December, every willing house unveiled its Christmas lights and adornments. And like a vicious cycle, a family wins the award for the "Best Christmas Decorated House in Villa Nova Estate" on the 22nd of December. Last year, it was Mike's landlord who won the award, and this year Mike had exhausted all his energy yesterday, trying to help fix lights and every other shiny thing one could imagine around the whole building.
It was tough work, but strutting home with a bottle of Gaja Barbaresco made everything alright. Though deep in his mind, Mike wondered why Mr. Landlord didn't hire a professional decorator to get the job done this year. Could the Tinubu economy be hitting hard?
"To beat the work done from the head, we have to do it from the heart." Mr. Landlord had said.
Mike had smiled at his landlord's lame defense of the pro-decorator's absence. You gotta respect the real hustle to keep up appearances.
Anyway, yesterday's stress was gone. Today's a new day, and it's time to get some jogs in the tank.
"Pick up the pace, Mike. If you're gonna stress us this morning, you sure as hell are gonna do it right!"
Can Mr. Cranium just pick a side?!
Rhythm is a dancer. Mike's heart, head, and legs soon fell in sync, and his jog steadied into a familiar pace, cutting through the chilly air. Life is good, once again.
Quite unexpected for 6 am on a Saturday, Mike heard a car gently coasting into the actual bend that made the road a crescent. The car approached. Gently. Closer. Nearer. With a brief look over his shoulder, Mike spotted the silver-colored Toyota Matrix moving at snail speed. The driver behind the tinted windows must be distracted, pressing her phone, maybe? Matrix in Abuja is mainly for the ladies - those still living off their slightly well-to-do parents.
Soon, the car was alongside, and somewhat on pace with Mike. Strangely, it seemed as though the car - and its driver - stared at Mike. He could feel their eyes on him. And Mike stared right back. He surely couldn't see anyone in there, but he could feel someone looking at him. No eye contact was made. No words were spoken. But intents were somehow made known.
Mike picked up pace, and so did the vehicle, to match. Slightly more pace from Mike, and so was the car. Mike slowed down, and the car did. "Are we really doing this?" Mike thought, with a raise of the eyebrow.
"Run!" Mike's brain shouted, and in glee, Mike dashed off. The car was caught unawares but soon jerked into speed too. Game on! Several steps per second, and Mike continued to bolt off laughing at the thrill of the childish race against a car, but his competition was soon upon him—the 130 horsepower of the cute car proving too fast for Mike.
Straining, huffing, puffing, Mike was determined to stay alongside, peering sideways to keep his eyes on the car. But straight into a manhole, his right leg went! Mike’s world stopped!
**
"Aaarrrggghhhh!" Mike let out a scream that slapped sleeping dogs to life, barking in their respective compounds.
Ahead, the cute car screeched to a tyre-burning stop from about 45 kilometers per hour. Mike winced and groaned in pain, trying to keep his shout behind his lips. A mix of hope and agony rose through his spine. Agony from the leg that was assuredly broken, and hope from his competitor that braked to a hard stop. Mike's heart yearned for help, but the heart was soon broken. The car moved.
"No!" The Mr. Cranium inside Mike's head cried out into his brain.
Mike shook his head in disappointment, as what surely wasn’t tears clouded his vision. Real men don’t cry, Mike! Mr. Cranium still had time for jokes.
Like a monkey wounded from fooling around, his eyes darted around in assessment of his situation. He had to figure out a way to help himself up. The gory and messy sight of his broken leg in the algae-rich underground gutter water soaked him in pure regret, and just then, the Matrix car honked. As though telling him to stop right there. 'Oh, so you went to make a U-turn.'
From almost beneath the bumper where Mike's body was positioned relative to the car, he looked up, initially blinded by the radiance of the bright sky, which soon served as a backdrop to the image of the lady who rushed into his view. The chilly air in the area whistled, as though joining Mike to stare, amazed, at the woman of his dreams. Sorry, scratch that, …at the woman in his view.
Fully dressed for the occasion, she must be on her way to the gym.
"Are you okay?" She hurried to a squat.
“Does it look like we’re okay?” Mr. Cranium snapped back at her, but none of those words escaped Mike’s mouth.
Too embarrassed to respond, Mike winced, trying to hide his face away. Being a 'damsel in distress' when his old self would love to rizz such a picture-perfect human has to be a sin. "Don't be ridiculous Mike, you're no damsel! Damsels don’t stand at 6’2 feet tall, with full-blown beards, and molds of muscles on every body part.”
Thank you for the information, Mr. Cranium. And I don’t have muscles on every body part.
Hyperbole, Mike. Hyperbole!
The frantic effort to get Mike out of the dirt was in full swing but done cautiously. Her words were a soothing balm to his soul as she ran around trying to get his massive body in the best positions to not further damage the leg. Fear took over her expression; worry also had some parts to play, but all these just made Mike wonder why she was going through the stress. She could have just left him. Or maybe not. They were competitors after all. This had to be the spirit of sportsmanship that Toto Wolff, Mercedes Formula 1 Team Principal, was talking about when questioned about his relationship with Christian Horner of their rivals, Red Bull.
“Do you think you can stand on your left leg?”
“I’d like to hope so. I think this is the point when I need all my fitness training to come in handy.” He tried to force a smile to get her relaxed. He was beginning to handle the pain better, it’s been several minutes since the ordeal happened.
She almost collapsed when he rose to full height and leaned on her with his right hand around her shoulder. Thankfully, the car was just there to support both of them.
Helped into the backseat of the car, this was the first time Mike found himself in a Toyota Matrix. He didn’t know what he expected the car’s inside to feel like, but it wasn’t bad. Cozy, yes. That’s the word. Cozy. The dark interior and the blacked-out window made Mike feel like he was under some covering, a place where he would be nurtured out of pain. He watched her sprint around the car back into the driver’s seat. He held on to the seat as she made another U-turn, and straight away headed for an hospital. She made sharp corners, revved to high speeds on the straights, honked at other sluggish drivers, and cussed under her breath when the traffic light at a junction turned red just before she got there. The traffic light had cameras - the last work of Buhari before leaving the throne. You beat the light, the ticket is pinned on your vehicle’s plate number, to be redeemed whenever you go to the VIO’s office later in the future.
“Fuck it!” She said when the light indicated 45 seconds away from going green.
She beat the light! She freaking beat the lights for you man. Mr. Cranium was certainly having a field day, today. Ask for her name, man. She’s the real deal.
The fast and furious trip to the hospital came to a frantic end as she rushed into the hospital building, and soon came out with nurses, and a stretcher. What the hell is going on? Mike thought to himself. She’s the missing rib, man. Mr. Cranium gave a quick suggestion.
The nurses helped him onto the stretcher, and in no time, he was on a bed in a VIP room.
**
She worked at the hospital. The Toyota Matrix lady. Apparently, she wasn’t one of those ladies still living off their slightly well-to-do parents. In fact, the need to take care of her ailing remaining parent was the reason for her recent arrival in the country. And now, she works as a Neurosurgeon at this hospital - CedarLife. Who leaves the United Kingdom to come work in Nigeria? Mr. Cranium asked inside Mike’s head when he heard the gist. Well, Aderonke Ayoola did. She had to come back home since she was going to take over her father’s hospital after his death.
“When he dies?” Mike’s head twitched to the side in curiosity.
Nurse Titi, full of gist and itching for a soul to tell, leaned closer to him, pretending to tuck him in. “The founder and Chairman of this hospital is Chief Ayoola, Aderonke’s father. He’s been sick for about one year now.”
“Why is he sick?”
“Luminara Syndrome. It’s a rare disease that hasn’t been properly researched yet. It started for Chief about five years ago, but it got worse over the past year. Dr. Aderonke has spent so much, but since Chief is only the 11th person with a record of the disease in the whole world, it’s been hard to find a cure. It’s impossible. So, one day, when Chief was able to open his eyes after sleeping for two weeks and miraculously remembered himself for a brief moment, he asked his daughter to take him home.”
“He remembered himself? What does that mean?” Mike’s curious mind won over his tight lips, and the question came out, right into the waiting arms of Aderonke Ayoola.
“Hello, Mr. Stranger. Shouldn’t you have waited to hear the story from me? I thought we’d become friends over the past two weeks.” Aderonke’s voice rose from the doorway.
Nurse Titi’s eyes blew into bewilderment as she turned while crashing to her knees. “Forgive me, Doctor.” she pleaded for her life and job.
Mike smiled as Titi disappeared out of the room with her notepad covering her head.
“Please forgive Titi. I asked her the question. She’s done nothing wrong.”
Mike saw her lower lip twitch. Whether out of humor or anger, he wasn’t sure. One more thing Mike wasn’t sure of was the language of allure her body spoke, but he paid attention and comprehended the beauty that she was. No one should look this breathtaking in a lab coat, or whatever it is doctors call their white overalls. Despite the regular uniform, she shone, and for a brief moment, Mike felt whole. A neckline of delicate arc, tracing the soft contours of her collarbone. Waists that curve on forever, and swayed with grace as she placed one leg in front of the other in stride. He’d seen her every day since she admitted him into this VIP room, but like a copy of the mercies of God, her beauty was new every morning. And like every time, Mr. Cranium sang some weird songs in Mike’s brain.
“Of course, she’s done nothing wrong,” she said, settling into bed, just beside Mike’s right leg, which now dwells in a cast. “You’re the one I have a problem with. I never took you as one who likes gossip.”
“Why can’t you simply see it as me being curious about you?”
“Fair enough. Just remember, curiosity killed the cat.”
“I’m not the one walking around the hospital like a princess cat, you know?”
“A beautiful princess cat, you mean?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Aderonke.” Mike adjusted in his bed, trying to sit up without compromising the comfort his leg currently enjoyed. “Thank you,” he said as she adjusted the duvet he was covered in. “By the way, when did we agree to become friends? I don’t remember you asking for permission.”
There it was. The big break of her lips into a teeth-revealing smile. Like every other thing about her, every smile of hers was a revelation of warmth for Mike. Sweat had a prison break moment on his palm, and his armpit assuredly missed his antiperspirant. Bode had brought most of his daily needs, but the damned best friend of his chose to leave the Axe Dark Temptation spray in the closet. This was the moment he needed to look, smell, and feel his best, but like all those days in school, Bode failed to come through.
“Do people verbally agree to become friends?”
She was serious with the question. Her ocean-blue eyes fixated on him for an answer. Right on cue, his lips parted. But he wasn’t worried about how she’d interpret the involuntary action of his lips. I mean, she could simply think he was stunned and rendered speechless by her question - which he was, but that wasn’t enough reason for passion to split his lips. Mike drowned in Aderonke’s stare, his brain helplessly calling for help. But he was man enough to quickly gather his wits.
‘Why do I feel like you’re serious with the question?”
“Because I am. I haven’t had the chance to make any friends since I had to leave for medical school.” She said, before unearthing a wrap of chocolate from her overall's pocket.
"Don't you have any friends?" A little snicker escaped his being, out of pure humor.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. A handful of seconds passed as her finger rested on her chin in thought. Surely, she wasn't trying to scan through her life for people tagged ‘friends,’ right?
She was.
"No," Aderonke eventually spoke, with her expression registering a little pain at the realization. She munched hastily at her chocolate bar to muffle the sadness. How could she not be able to boast of a single friend to her name? She’d been so focused on her studies that she forgot to live. Though it was for a good cause. Life chipped the wood of time away so fast. And in trying to keep up, she filled her mouth with so much chocolate than she could chew at once. Aderonke watched Mike’s eye go wider at the chocolate rush, stopping her in her tracks as she mused over what she was doing. She’d really become so comfortable with Mike. Something about him turned the troubles of life to vapor. No wonder she’d visited him every day at lunch break, and spent some two more hours at the close of the day. “I think I hear rumors about me dating the patient in room 704, which I find interesting.”
Mike’s heart leaped, and she saw it in the gentle jerk of his body.
“Really? Who’s that? Who’s in room 704?” The words jumped out of his mouth before he could purse his lips. Those were certainly Mr. Cranium’s words, not Mike’s.
Aderonke looked at him with amusement in her eyes, briefly peering at the table beside his bed to confirm he hadn’t been given the wrong dosage.
“Who else is in room 704?”
“Oh! Oh! That would be me. Oh!” Mike sank into his pillow, his brain engaging in a dog fight with his muscles. Why had he reacted like that? His body went numb with embarrassment. If anything, he knew he had let some of his feelings sip out from under the duvet he tucked them.
She blinked him at him with such doting eyes, accompanied by words muffled with smiles. “You seemed a bit …”
“You’ve been here every day, so, it’s a little understandable they begin suspecting us.” Mike cut in. He wasn’t going to let her tell him he seemed a bit jealous. Never! He’d rather die than be caught like that by the woman he’s been dotting for. “But it’s no big deal, I mean, we both know nothing is going on between us.” He paused. “Right?” He added, almost silently and sluggishly.
His ripped frame in the bed sucked Aderonke’s gaze into an embrace. Distracted, her eyes tore through the tight hospital wear he had on, to see his muscles twitch and move. She had no recollection of ever being this close to a man who wasn’t her father. But there was a familiarity with him. In the depths of his gaze, which she now held, there was a warmth that wrapped her in rest whenever she was with him. Like, it’s okay. And he had it again. That look. He probably wasn’t doing it intentionally, but he had that look. That look. Like a puppy. Tender, and soft, and safe. The look that disarmed whatever security she might have inadvertently built up over the years of researching her father’s cure. That look made her vulnerable for no reason. The look she looked forward to, every day like a baby, for the past fourteen days. The look that always made her forget her decade-old learning toil that followed the first diagnosis of her father’s disease. She pursued neurosurgery to research a cure for her father, but she failed. But in his eyes, she found rest, even more so, in this period when there was nothing that could be done to keep her old man away from the loneliness of death.
“Are you sure?” her words came in a whisper, almost inaudible for him to hear as she drew closer to him.
Curiosity engulfed her being. Yes, she now knew what being in his presence felt like. Yes, she now knew what laughing with him felt like. But what about the air he breaths? What does oxygen feel like to him? What would his face feel like against hers? These were the questions on her mind, and she wanted to find out. She didn’t know the best way to find these answers, but she leaned in the more. Closer. Yielding to desire and its fire.
Now, she could hear his nostrils working. She could even hear his rasped whisper, what are you doing Aderonke? His words weren’t a question. They weren’t to push her back. They were more like a paper wall. That’s how she’d chosen to interpret them. Her will held no ground here. Like a moth, she danced into the fire, completely disoriented by this man whose eyes said come. To be sure, she asked, can I? Thank God he nodded in agreement. She wasn’t sure if her will, which had dissolved into wetness, could stop her if he said no. Electric shocks jammed her brain as their fingers locked. Here it is. Here goes nothing. The first kiss of Aderonke’s whole existence.
Faint sounds emanated in the now distant hallway, but nothing could dabble into this moment of shared yearnings. In that suspended moment of her hesitation, he leaned forward. Closing the distance. The gentle brush of his lips against hers was a revelation. That touch that was there but wasn’t there. Like a rehearsal. A culmination of the heaviness that had woven itself into the fabric of time and space between them.
“Kiss me,” Aderonke moaned, her eyes closed in surrender.
The room door yanked open to the stormy entrance of a Nurse from the Neurosurgery department. “Doctor! We have an emergency! It’s your father!” The intruder shouted, sending the steamy duo into a panic.
Mike looked at the nurse and stopped. “Omolara.” he collected himself and voiced.
“Mike?”
There she was. In flesh. The ex that broke him.
It’s been six months since I last wrote to you, and I’m deeply sorry. In those 6 months, I’ve been fighting for my life and place in this tech world. I hope you forgive me.
I know “I was dead” isn’t complete, and it’ll be. I’ve been working on completing it, and I’ll send it soon. This right here is a little mic test, to see if I still got it. Kindly let me know what you think about this one while I promise to give “I was dead” the finale it deserves.
Merci beaucoup, mon ami.
Love love love this letter!
I can't wait for the next episode, please.🥺
This is so beautiful!!! Love the storyyy and the suspense.👀
Please post the sequels ooo, I have been starved enough.😩
Happy New Year!🥳
So glad to finally have you back.