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by STEVE Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Parenting · #1823240
BAD INFLUENCE AND IRRESPONSIBILITY OF A PARENT
                                                IN





He knew he was the one, yet he kept asking himself how on earth could it be him. Even though he knew it was no surprise to find the man there. But how come no one knew he was there and why the man never told anyone that he was there.



He had been watching him ever since he joined them, he even knew his number but very careful not to attract his attention. But he was almost tempted to expose himself during meal time one evening at the meal hall. The bell rang, doors were opened, everyone walked out to the hall opposite. Inside the hall were unusually long benches and tables. The benches were only twenty five but five hundred could sit on it. He always sat on one of the back benches because he had notice the man’s favourite bench was either the first on the front row or the second.



Foods short of ingredients were usually served. He had just taken two spoonfuls of the beans when an uproar from the front benches caught his ears. He stood and neck stretched over others that had also stood up. It was the man in a fight with another fellow while others cheered the entertaining fighters. The fellow was prevailing; his fist had brought blood onto the face of the man. But it was not surprising, at almost sixty; the man’s vigour ought to be waning while the fellow’s vitality was still flourishing because he was only thirty something. More blood oozed outHe was thinking of what to do when the man suddenly unleashed an upper cut to his opponent and that sent him down. The cheering was now louder, the man rushed upon the him on the ground – punching.



An uncontrolled smile came upon his face, so happy seeing the man revenging and winning, suddenly the guard’s whistle swallowed the noise in the hall – every tongue became mute, the man rose from the heavily bleeding fellow. “Sit and eat!” was all the guard said and all returned to their seats and sat and ate. The guard didn’t say a word to the fighters. He knew they knew what to do ne as the opponent bashed the man.



He rushed to the front, trembling with fury, he wonder how the others could derived entertainment from an insolent, cultureless youngster bashing terribly an elder that could fathered him. He would not stand watching the man tormented regardless of what the man had done to him before coming here. But he held back as he thought of his decision not to show himself to the man until he was prepared for it. And if he should pounce on the fellow, the man may recognised him.

xt – the guard’s silence meant pardon because he was also entertained. They only needed to go to the clinic which was two buildings away from the hall.



The usual one hour elapsed, the bell ranged. In minutes, the hall was empty, all returned to their secured abode. 



In bed he thought of the man. Although, he knew not what led to the scuffle with his opponent. He can’t help pointing accusing finger on his opponent. But he cannot understand why sentiment could still have a hold on him in spite of the cruel irresponsibility the man had heaped upon him and his mother. Nature came calling and he was gradually responding to it when the voluminous snore of the bearded fellow lying on the above double bed came tormenting him below. He blamed himself for not forcing himself to slumber before the bearded man slept. His deep sleep would have made him deaf to the snore.



His inability to sleep led his memory to his mother. He knew well what was going on in her mind. He was a good hand if there is need to describe the innermost thought of her mother’s emotion. Inspite of his stubbornness and recklessness that stood in defiance and with clear difference to his mother tenderness and kindness, they are still like one soul woven together. he  could well read and feel the ache, torment, cry and restlessness in her mind at the moment.



His mother was a part of him, a huge part, as he laid on the bed, he could feel the pains in her mother’s heart transfusing into his body. It had always been like that any time he thought of her but this night was severe owing to his sleepless state. The seemingly liquidified pains dripping into his veins was much this time. On a very good day, he would have blocked the drippings from becoming voluminous through sleeping. This time the pains brought an intensified guilt to him as the sole source of the fire his mother was passing through. He breathed faster as tears welled up, then gradually it flowed.



Only his mother could make him do this, no one else has the power to make him shed a drop of tears out of remorse or sympathy. Not even his father. His father had always being a faraway being in his world even though they were together in the same roof all through his childhood, teen, till the father left home. He was a clear copy of his father. Even their voices were the same which many had mistaken the two identities. Inwardly they were apart. Outwardly they clashes often.  As a lad, the rod was never spared except his mother was there  with bended knees begging an angered, tipsy father. 



As the years ran out, the unreasonable constant whipping had hardened his heart and flesh. At times some beatings were completely devoid of cry. Sometimes few drops of tears and others are tearless. By the time he was in his late teens, he astounded his father by grapping and wrenching off the old whip that was almost the same age as him from his father and dumped it inside the house pit toilet. For a while the father stared in disbelieved and a sort fear showed on his face. His tipsiness suddenly died.  The fearless son stood on his full height waiting for the worst to be unleashed. Mother was at the market at that time, no one to save the day. But unexpectedly, he withdrew into his room, saying nothing. Day after day, he waited for a comment or sudden attack but the father  said noting and he never said anything on the drama of that day. he never torments him again. Nature finally came. He slept.   



The following morning at 7, the bell rang, door opened. In minutes, the growing grasses around the buildings and those outside the huge wall that encircled the buildings began to be cut. It was raining season, therefore it was a weekly work.



He saw the man, not too far from where he was assigned to cut grass. He and the man were among those taken outside to cut grass around the wall. He saw him cutting and standing frequently to hold his waist. A sympathetic emotion was mounting but he quickly banished it. He must not go on with such undeserved concern for such person. 



Two hours had gone, cutting and packing ended. It was Saturday; he heard some as they returned to the buildings boasting of victory over the others during the coming afternoon match at the field at the back of the meal hall.  As for him, he never played football and did not desire to play; he merely watched sometimes to kill time. Therefore he looked away anytime football was mentioned.



Although he had decided that towards the end of the month, either last Friday or Saturday of the month he would reveal himself to the man. But he had suddenly developed the urge to reveal himself to the man during the football match. He had observed that the man was also not a football fan; it would be easy to have his attention.



“Good afternoon sir.”  He greeted the man. The man turned to him.



“Good …’’ the ball shot by one of the players on the field hit him on the back. He only hissed, his attention was mainly on him. He stared at him.



“Do I know you somewhere?”



He was silence and the man did not repeat the question. Both stared at each other.



“Edet!” the man shouted but he remained mute and unmoved. The man’s eyes widened then tears welled up. “What are you doing here?”



“I should ask you the same question” he said harshly.



The man bowed his head in disbelieved and shame.  “When where you brought here?”



“Two months ago.”



“Two months! How come I have not met you all these times?”



He declined to answer and asked, “Why didn’t you let us to know that you are here? Mama has been very worried, always thinking of you.”



“Uduak thinking of me in spite of the hell I gave her?” he asked with bewilderment.



“You should have tried to get in touch with us; we all thought you were dead.”



The man actually wanted them to believe he was dead. His existence was meaningless to them. What worth was his life to his wife and son; he was a horror to them. To his parents- an accursed son, to his sibling- a recurring headache in their lives; his youngest sister he gave a miscarriage by hitting her on the belly for challenging him to put his life in order.



“So when I was caught during the last robbery I participated in, I was slammed with fifteen years. Shame and regret unable me to contact any of you.  What good have I done to any even to you and your mother? Who will ever bother to come and visit me?” A deep sigh came out from him. He shook his head. “What crime did you commit …? No, that is not important.  When will …?”



“I duped …”



“No need telling me. All I want to know is when will you be freed?”



“I have a year to serve. I  Have spent two months remaining eight months?”



“I thanked God it is not so long. I have been a very bad father to you. A very bad one. It was the effect of the badness that has brought you here.” The man wiped flowing tears from his cheeks with his hand.



Seeing the man in tears  weakened him. He tried successfully to suppress welling up tears.



“I have spent eight years already; I still have seven years left. I would have preferred a life sentence in order to end my worthless life here.”



“You are no waste. We still need you, especially me.



“I don’t deserve your kindness.” He said and bowed his head. He raised his head. “Did your mother know that you are here?”



“She didn’t. The first time I saw you, I have resolved not to tell her. I don’t want a situation that will probably lead her to know that you are here with me. She would surely visit if I told her and what if during one of her visits she somehow got to see you.  Just imagine her knowing that you and I are here, imagine how she would feel. Somehow others may also get to know about it. It will be a very big shame to our family. I contacted a trusted friend to only tell her that I text him to tell her that I am alright and that I have gone for a business trip for a year.”



“When you have regained your freedom, tell her that when I am freed I will only come and beg her for forgiveness on the woes I unleashed on her. I no longer deserved to be accorded the status of being her husband. And for you, please rearrange you life when you have left here. When I am freed, I will do what ever I can to make you a worthy man so that your future son, my future grandson, will not tread our ignoble path.”

   

STEPHEN ADINOYI



















© Copyright 2011 STEVE (adinoyi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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