Thursday, September 1, 2011

Atmosphere for miracles: An 'old' short story







He cast a wary glance at the doctor who walked in, complete in scrubs and gloves. The doctor did a double take as he looked into his eyes.

“Mr. K, you need to take your rest. Three straight days with little or no sleep,” he clicked his tongue and shook his head for emphasis, “it’s taking its toll on you.”

Tam didn’t want to argue, the last thing he wanted was to leave. He looked down at the tiny hands wrapped protectively in his large ones. They didn’t look familiar. He wished they belonged to someone else. Someone he didn’t know and didn’t have to bother about.

The medical contraption running around the room looked hideous. The blinking lights, the beeping noises, the cold feel of metal. This didn’t have to happen.

“We’re running a fresh set of tests this evening. She’s still not responding to the therapy. We need to be cautious about the drugs though, for a five year old, it could be dangerous,” he shook his head again. The gesture was beginning to annoy Tam.

He nodded and looked away, at his little angel lying helplessly, looking lifeless. The doctor walked out after doing his normal checks.





His heart was heavy. He got on his knees and closed his eyes. Clasping his hands he proceeded to pray. No words came. He tried to gather his thoughts, free his mind and let out his fears. This was too much for him. His lips, clamped together shook uncontrollably as he tried to suppress the tears. He bit his tongue hard till he tasted blood. Hot tears poured down his face.

He hadn’t cried in years. What he wanted to do was pray but couldn’t form the words; no words borne of human imagination could express what he felt. He fell onto his side on the cold, hard hospital floor. He curled up in a fetal position, groaning and moaning.

The words came like a soft sigh. Like a trickle of water, faint but unmistakable.

Tamilore, I Grieve Because You Grieve

It seemed like eternity had passed when he heard a sound from the bed. He sprang up and rushed to her side.

“Tomi,” his voice was ragged and hoarse, “Tomi, can you hear me? Daddy’s here, I’m here.” He stroked her lean cheeks.

She recoiled at his touch. He frowned, wondering what could be wrong. He touched her face again. She cried out in pain.

“Doctor!” he screamed, “Nurse!” he scrambled from the room, frantically, almost knocking down the poor nurse who had come running at his call.

The hospital equipment all started beeping and clicking in tandem. For the next fifteen minutes, chaos reigned as nurses and doctors crowded around the bed.
He waited outside pacing around like a caged lion. He sobbed quietly, his hands locked behind him. Pain raced through him, anger and fear and some other unidentified emotion. He was thoroughly confused.

What if…? He hadn’t finished the thought when Paul rushed in.

“How is she?” he asked, panting softly.

“Dunno,” He pointed to the door. “Doctors are in there...”

A sad expression passed across Paul’s face. He shook it off immediately, trying to be calm and helpful. He patted his friend’s back, his head bowed. He remained quiet for a few minutes, his lips moving, and his hands still on Tam’s back.

“It’ll be well, Tam. Let’s believe.”

He nodded.

Paul shifted on his feet. He looked uneasy. Tam stared at him wondering what was wrong.

He handed Tam a colourful flyer. “You forgot about this.”

Tam handed it back in a hurry. “I didn’t.”

“So? How do we handle it?”

“Look, I don’t know. Just handle it, anyhow. I don’t care.” his impatience with the issue was obvious. He walked to the window, pulling back the blinds, he looked outside.

“Tam. The program has been going on for six days, today is the last. Every one’s been praying, for you, for Tomi. I...I think we should do this.” Paul walked to him, his voice gentle, as always.

“Want to know what I think? I think I need my daughter to get well. I need to be here. I care about nothing else.” He looked straight at Paul and added with feeling, “I’m not going.”

Paul nodded slowly. He hardly raised his voice but he knew his friend was slipping.
He tried the sarcastic route.

“Ok Tam. So you’re going to stay here and heal Tomi. Go ahead, bro, wave your magic wand. Hope you brought it along?”

Tam flashed him an angry look, his eyes burning. A twitch in his jaw told Paul to tread softly.

“Leave it to Him Tam. Just a few hours, and it could make a difference.” he was pleading now.

Tam shook his head, “Why, why why?” sorrow washed over him, fear gripped his heart at the thought of the unimaginable. He stamped his feet and slammed his fist into the wall, sobbing loudly, his teeth tightly clenched. He cried out in pain as blood stains and little strings of flesh clung to the old rusted nail in the wall.

Tam sat still, his eyes closed, his mind racing, his right hand wrapped in a bandage. The car rolled into Industrial Avenue at about 6pm. They could hear singing from a distance. Paul jumped down and raced into the grounds while the driver honked at the gate. The security guy scrambled to open it.

He searched for Ola who was busy with last minute plans. He found him in the Correspondence office packaging ‘promise scriptures’ for after the service.

“Guy what’s up?” Paul called out from the door.

“Hey! Good. So what happened? Is he here? How’s Tomi?”

“Yep. He’s here.” He shook his head a little. “Well, Tomi is not doing too well.....”

“Jesus, ” Ola remained quiet for a while at the sad news but rallied quickly, “So, you think he’ll be able to do it?”

“Yes. He’s strung tight enough to snap, but,” he held a finger up for emphasis, “I know he’ll do.”

He looked quite skeptical, “But worship?”

“Trust me, he’s broken. It couldn’t be better.”

They made their way backstage where they found Tam leaning on the wall, a lost look in his eyes. He held his bandaged hand gingerly, still feeling the pain. They spoke to him a little not wanting to upset him further. The praise session in the hall rounded up and the MC introduced him. He pushed off from the wall as the people’s applause thundered in his ears, most of them aware of his present challenges. Paul had said they’d been praying. It lifted his spirits some.
It all passed in a haze as the lights on stage stung his eyes and the Mic was passed to him.

What to do now? What to sing?

His well practiced theory of feeling in the mood went right out the windows. This was the last place he would have asked to be.

With his weight on his right leg, his eyes closed and left hand raised, he let himself be.

The song came freely without effort. He meant every word


I have a maker, he formed my heart, oh oh oh before even time began;
my life was in his hands. He knows my name; he knows my every fault, he sees each tear that falls, and he hears me when I call…

 




Tam wasn’t the only the one weeping now. The ministers in the front row were all prostrate, male and female. Hands were raised all over the hall; the back up singers had ceased speaking the language of men.

He struggled to keep his voice clear as tears welled up inside him. He felt gratitude, deep gratitude to God. It was an unexpected emotion for such a circumstance but his heart was bursting.

Then came the words again like a soft sigh. Like a trickle of water, faint but unmistakable.

Tamilore, what would you have me do for you?

He broke down and wept profusely, the rhythm of his tears reverberated through the hall.

He wanted nothing else, Tomi had to live and be in sound health.

He looked up, his eyes open. He stared at the big clock at the far end of the hall, his eyes unseeing.

8.55 pm

He got on his knees and poured out his heart. He wept like a child, his face contorted with the intensity of emotions whirling inside him.

He became aware of the music that was playing. He picked the sound of the bass guitar, the keyboard, and the drums. They seemed to inspire his next move.

He motioned for the drums to cease. Then he lay prostrate on the fully rugged stage, propped on his elbows. His voice rang out like a gong, clear and distinctive. This song touched him in deep and sensitive places.

ba adani ma gba gbe, A sr ma ta se o, Eledumare, ba a tori ni se.
Ogbe inu wundia sola, ogbe ori ite sogo o, Eledumare
ba a tori ni se

The air stilled as the hall went quiet. Both expected and unexpected miracles preceded the requested.

He prayed for every soul present, his heart truly went out to them. He let go of his own fears and truly became a Levite.

He led three more songs before he felt his work was done.

Walking off, he felt alive again. His friends were waiting for him back stage. They stared at him like zombies, questions in their eyes. He was not smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He was calm and quiet, no words necessary.

Ola wanted to ask “Guy, where have you been?” But he knew exactly where he’d been. Now it was time to go.

They bounded down the stairs of the building and walked to the car. The drive to St. Nicholas was uneventful as everyone kept their thoughts to themselves. Tam stared out the window, his face pressed to the glass, Ola sat in the front while Paul drove.

The night was cold and it had begun to drizzle when they arrived. They cleared at the reception and made for room 69. The door was slightly open, the lyrics of Beauty and the beast sailing through.

“That song.” he thought, sighing deeply. Tomi loved that song so much; she made him play it almost every day.

He pushed open the door to see the occupant of the bed propped up with a couple of pillows, being fed from a little pink bowl by an elderly nurse.

“Daddy.” Tomi called weakly, her smile revealing the wide artificial gap in her teeth.

Paul chuckled behind him, hardly surprised.

Tam shook his head, blinking his eyes, unable to take in the full implication of what he was seeing.

The nurse got up from the bed while Tam approached it.

“What happened here?” he asked.

“You mean, what are we doing? We’re eating of course.” she said smiling and adjusting her glasses.

Tam opened his mouth and shut it just as fast. He eyed the big black bible resting solidly on the bedside table.

“That’s not mine.” He pointed to it.

“Definitely, if it was you’d be 55 years old.” said the delectable nurse.

Paul cracked up again, Ola joined in, though still dazed.

“Well, I thought Tomi might want to listen to some stories, so I read to her.”

‘Yes daddy, Daniel in the lion’s den.” Tomi quipped, her voice sounding high pitched and nasal. Thanks to the tubes running through her nostrils.

“We had a good time.” the nurse continued animatedly, “She was quiet when we started though but after a while, she squeezed my hand. That was when she opened her eyes. Then she said she was hungry. Golden morn.” She said with an exaggerated whisper.

Tam nodded, “Her favourite.”

Tam looked at her with pride in his eyes. He stroked her cheeks, no pain. His chest constricted with the magnitude of the gratitude that filled his heart.

The nurse’s voice sailed through his thoughts.

“We still have her under observation though, and the test will still run. The doctor on night duty will be in soon, no undue excitement please.” She said with her best no-nonsense nurse tone.

Tam nodded.

“It only takes a step.” Ola sighed, his voice hardly a whisper.

They all looked towards the door where He stood leaning on the wall, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Oh boy! Where You dey?” Paul called, waving his hand across his eyes

“Nah, he’s getting inspiration. Big decision this weekend, no?” Tam joked.

Ola laughed and hugged Tam.

“I think you young men need to take it outside. That’s why we made the reception comfortable.” The nurse said looking at them through her glasses.

“Yes ma’am.” they chorused, moving towards the door.

Tam stopped at the door and looked at her as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

“I need to know something, at what time did she open her eyes? I mean when exactly did she wake up?”

“8:56” she said, shooing them out the door.







'And the prayer of Faith shall save the sick, and the lord hall raise him up' James 5:15


I believe in Miracles!




Roy