The name didn’t come out right when she screamed in her dream, in the process waking up the man that was half-awake by her side. They both echoed a soft ‘sorry’, at the same time.
‘Am sorry, please’ she repeated certain that she was to blame.
The man nodded an acceptance of apology, now certain that the young pretty lady sitting by his side was to blame for the disruption in his slumber and not he for hers. He shifted more comfortably in his not-too-comfortable seat of the tightly packed luxurious bus that was travelling night-time from Port-Harcourt to Lagos. They were half-way through the journey and the time was half-way to dawn.
“Where are we now?” she asked, turning her pretty face towards her travelling neighbor. They had not said anything to each other before the soft jointly-echoed sorry. And in that split second before he answered and before she turned away after saying a thank you, the dream flashed through her mind at a dizzying speed, again. But she didn’t scream this time. She couldn’t because her eyes were not seeing what her mind was showing. They were staring at a set of the most tranquil eyes she had ever seen in her entire teenage years. Not even in her dreams. They were a pair of eyes that were the exact opposite of what she had just seen in her dream. So instead, she lingered after he told her that they were at Ore. She decided to make conversation with her neighbor to prevent her from falling asleep again. She wanted an escape from the dream. Or so she told herself. So she asked another question.
‘When do you think we will get to Lagos?”
But the voice didn’t come out right when the young man replied that it would be just before dawn. His voice sounded croaky and he appeared to have a mouthful of saliva. He excused himself and leaned over her towards the window. When he had relieved himself of the saliva in his mouth, he took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his mouth. He cleared his throat and even she could almost feel the pain that racked through his body as he did. And he tried again at talking.
‘We should get there just before dawn.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Throat cancer.’ And he said it so quietly like saying it out loud would bring the pain back and harder. He lowered his head, perhaps in shame, perhaps in pain. But it was shock that made him raise it again and turned it at his neighbor when she said and loudly too…
‘Breast cancer.’ And she lowered her head, neither in shame nor in pain but she couldn’t meet the stare of the young man no more. With her head still lowered, she continued.
‘I was just fooling around three days ago in front of my mirror… just playing, that’s all. I had just gotten out of the showers and I was taking my time with my cream on my breasts when I felt a lump… here.’ She touched her left breast with her right hand. ‘I was just playing…’ And the tears came.
‘Doctor says I am lucky… early detection is the key or something like that was the last thing I heard before I fainted. It was his face that I saw in my dream that made me scream.’
Because he didn’t know how to console a young pretty lady that had just been told she has breast cancer, he narrated his own story instead, hoping that would console her.
‘It started harmlessly with a sore throat that wouldn’t heal… doctor says it’s throat cancer after test. I will have to go under the knife.’
The big luxurious bus paused; the driver made some friendly banter with the absent-minded police officers at the checkpoint and picked up speed.
They would tell their children sometimes later in life how cancer had brought them together. How they had fought it together with the help of their family and friends. How, trying to be of help to other unfortunate victims of this thief in the night, they had started a non-governmental organization (EARLY DETECTION FOUNDATION). The road had been dogged with both human and non-human obstacles as they would say to their children, but it had been worth the trouble as the main vision of the organization-awareness- is being full realized.
But for now they will just hold hands and cry and wait for dawn.
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Muyis Adepoju @abdulmuizz
I am a young man who was introduced to reading early on in life by my father who would bring home the daily newspapers and 'beg' me to read to him... then later on as an escape from bullies in my primary and secondary schools. I would seek the protection of the library walls from these bullies and in time the residents of this sanctuary-books-became my faithful friends. I love listening to people talk but people can't talk long as books can so I read their thoughts in books. Writing is my response to questions asked in books I have read and as a way of answering questions I have asked myself about myself and others. I like writing about human frailties and the desire of the human mind to triumph over life's half chances. Some of my short stories have been published by www.omojuwa.com and by www.nymaonline.com. all under FICTION. My recent short story, The Liberation Of Alhaja And The Keys Of Manhood will be published this Sunday, the 19th of February online by Story Time Africa (@storytimeafrica). I am evolving. Gracias! My Twitter handle is @abdulmuizzx. Please note the 'x'. I will follow back to know you better.Go to Muyis Adepoju's profile, and read more of his/her posts.
I like the story – the telling is so poor. It’s confusing, poor punctuating/paragraph structure…
EDIT EDIT EDIT!!!!!! Read…rewrite. EDIT again!!!!!
You can do faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar better I’m sure.
The story is very good. I like the characters; their fear and faith…reliance on each other…
Be better.
I like the story and its simplicity, but by editing it properly, it would only come out better…I really like the storyline..
The idea behind it is “phenomenal” but the actual writing was poorly poorly done. Good work though but polish it up and you’ll have a masterpiece.
You’ll do better with time. It’s good you’re here. But that lady only has a lump, not cancer. For the guy, I’ve never heard of throat cancer before o. Maybe you should try something else.
@babyada…
Throat cancer dey o.
A new angle…cancer bringing forth love
I like the story. Didn’t see any errors.
@ kaycee:You suffer from wanting to be different all the time, and in doing that, you just don’t make sense sometimes…..no apologies. So this story is ok as it is abi?You can even nominate it for a Booker sef……..yeye.
I like d story…..keep writing
A very good idea behind the story.Nice. But the telling and presentation can be better. And there were some unnecessary repetitions at the beginning, e.g. you cannot wake up somebody that is already half-awake.
Well done!!!
Very nice concept….Good thinking
Reading this was like lifting a delicate, beautiful vase….until the bottom fell off and the flowers and water spilled to the floor. What happened? Were U tired of writing?
@abdulmuizz, I liked the idea behind the story – how illnesses bring two sufferers together.
I would remove the references to the dream; I don’t think they added much to the story.
I felt that the writing in parts was repetitive and unclear. For example:
would be simpler as
But still a good story, and not too many errors. Keep on writing.