Chapter 28 ADRIFT

There are two types of human pain - That of the mind, and that of the body.

Don't get stuck on any!!!

EVE

Static......

White noise...

Continuous static.....

Soft crying...

Repeated soft crying....

" ... she be fine... "

Soft crying and heavy breathing...

" ... help ... "

" ... for too long ..."

" ... she be okay... "

"... daughter ... heal...

" ... come around soon... "

Words float around me ... just garbled snippets that make no sense at all. It continues, on and off, transcending time . . .

until . . .

"Doctor, she's trying to move... She's coming around." Hope laces every word, wrapping me up in a bundle of love and warming me up.

Is that mum's voice?

Why can't I move?

Soft, but firm hands check my eyelids that are still closed. I try prying them open but can't. They feel so heavy and weighted down. Fingers continue prodding my lids gently, lifting them up, one at a time.

"Madam, she's slowly coming around, please give her time."

Why am I able to hear but not able to move, nor even open my eyes? I can't ask either, because my body won't even respond, so how do I get my mouth open to talk? What's happening to me?

"She's still in the post - wake up process. She probably can hear what we're saying but can't respond."

"But doctor, is that normal?" Mum's voice sounds panicked. "My husband and I are terribly worried."

My heartbeat picks up.

Dad is here?

Where?

I can't sense his presence.

And then I feel pain so great it is crippling. Every fibre of my being hurts. I try moving again, but can't.

This is surreal.

At least I'm able to feel pain.

That should count for something, right?

"Yes madam, I saw him in the corridor and he practically badgered me with questions about his... baby." He chuckles and my heart warms, then I feel myself slipping into the cold hands of sleep.

*

I slowly wake to the sound of whispering. I can sense more than one presence around me.

"Don't worry so much Mrs. Olaitan." One of them speaks up now. "I spoke to the doctor a couple of minutes ago, he said the worst is over, she'll be fine."

In spite of myself, I smile. And at that precise moment, I realise I'm able to move my lips, which means . . . I wriggle my feet and find out that I can move them too. I do same with my hands.

Yes, I'm definitely able to move my body now. Thank goodness.

I decide to remain still and unmoving, feigning sleep so I can hear every single thing that's being said. Funny I don't feel any pain like I felt earlier and I wonder why.

Hold on!

Is the person talking about me?

Where am I?

Panic sets in and I let out a tiny squeak.

I hear the scrape of shoes on the ground and instinctively feel someone's presence close to me.

"M... m... mu..m?" My throat feels scratchy and patched, I'm barley able to get the words out.

"Oh sweet Jesus, she spoke. Thank you God. DOCTOR!" And I feel her voice drifting away as she leaves my side.

I force my eyes open.

This time, they obey me. But as soon as I do, white light pierces them.

Too bright!

I clamp them shut again as dark spots dance behind my closed lids. I count them, unable to keep up, wondering why they're so many.

"Eve ... don't be afraid, you're safe now." A vaguely familiar voice, echoes close to me and I flinch.

"Th.. the li.. light," I squeak.

I hear shuffling and some seconds later, we are plunged into dimness. Ah! That's better!

I open my eyes, squinting in the process. It's easier to open them this time around.

First thing I notice is a white ceiling above me. I try to turn around, but my neck feels so stiff, that's when I realise I've got a neck brace on. This puzzles me even more, so I just stay still, trying to figure out why I've got it on and where I am.

"Please, don't strain yourself." That vaguely familiar voice speaks, again.

"'Wh... where. am. I?" I speak slowly, rustily, like I'm just learning how to speak English all over again. What happened to me and why do I feel so heavy?

My eyes widen as I take in the wires attached to my body, extending from a machine... and what on earth is that annoying beeping sound?

"You're in a hospital, Eve." The voice cuts into my reverie. "And you're being taken care of by the doctor and the people that love you." Too much words that don't make any sense to me, so I just remain quiet, but the person isn't done explaining. "Some good Samaritan saw you and brought you..."

I hear the door opening suddenly and shoes scrape against the floor hurriedly, gaining more pressure as they come towards me. I feel the presence of the person close to me slinking away.

A face pops up above me.

Mum.

Her hair is in a state of disarray. I've never seen it this way before. It flops messily everywhere, but especially over her red rimmed, tired looking eyes which have huge bags underneath them, but she's smiling, even though her lips are trembling.

I feel the corner of my lips tilt up, but that's all I can manage.

Then she gives way and another face pops into view. "Hello Eve, how do you feel?" I take in the kind crinkled eyes and the stethoscope around his neck and his white lab coat, then I do a double take, my eyes widening, as they move back up to the stethoscope, and I shrink away from him as everything comes flooding back into my memory.

The drive to Batman's house.

The fake - accident of the boy..

The battering of my car...

The assault on my body...

... the death of my baby ...

My poor baby!

My throat constricts and begins to close up as tears cloud my vision.

I let out a wail as my body begins to shake violently. Strong warm hands envelop me and through my tears, I recognise the scent of my father.

"D... dad?"

"It's alright my baby, I'm here now, you're safe, no one will harm you. Shush now!" He croons, over and over again.

"D.. dad, where have you been?" I can't manage more because my throat has closed up with emotions.

He rocks me back and forth until I calm down.

"Mmhh mmhh! Excuse me Mr. Olaitan, my patient needs to get some more rest. I think she's had enough excitement for now. Please give way so I can administer this injection on her, she needs to relax properly. "

I shake my head violently upon hearing this, forgetting about the neck brace. I'm sure I look like a frightened chicken at this moment, but I'm far from caring. "NO! D... d.. d ... don't come near me, s.. st .. st ... stay away ... from me."

Dad holds me close to him, rocking me back and forth and I feel safe and cocooned in his arms, breathing in the musky scent of his aftershave. I quieten down after some time, sensing we're all alone now.

Dad doesn't let go of me, though. Even when I sink back into the narrow hospital bed, he holds onto my hand, until I drift off into sleep.

I don't know how long I'm out, but I turn to ease the pain on my left side when I see dad holding tightly onto my hand. His head is bent under a seemingly heavy invisible weight. When he feels the tug of my hand against his, he looks up. "Hey sweetheart, how do you feel?"

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetie, I'm right here, never left." I look up into brown eyes and skin the same colour as mine. We've always been almost - identical, with people calling me his mother, come back to life again. That's probably why I'm his favourite child, which he makes no effort to hide to everyone.

I let out a sigh, feeling more comfortable now that he's here.

Something feels painful and uncomfortable between my legs. When I check, I notice a catheter that is half way full with urine - my urine.

They had me plugged to a damn catheter?!

Was I that out of it?

Something niggles at the back of my mind.

"Dad? How long have I been here in the hospital?" I crane my neck, which thankfully is less stiff now due to the absence of the neck brace.

His normally starch - stiffened dress shirt is all crinkled up, and so are his brown chino's that are a bit stained and lacking their usual crease.

When I look up at his face, I gasp when I see how much he has aged. It takes some time for him to answer, and I fear he didn't hear me at all, but then he replies me haltingly. "A ... a month, sweetheart, you've been here for a ... month."

If there's anything I appreciate my father for, it's his forthrightness and candour. Mum would either have evaded answering me or danced around it, wanting to spare me the pain.

Unfortunately, I take after dad.

Right now, I wish he hadn't been so direct, because my head begins to spin at the thought of me being unconscious for a whole month while life passed me by.

"Sweetheart, you've been fighting for your life. We were all so worried you won't..." He can't finish his words because he chokes up and begins to cry.

Now I've never really seen dad cry, except once when I was involved in a freak accident at school. I stood up on a swing, trying to show off to my friends, but something went wrong and I slipped, catching my feet in between the sling. Instead of calling for help, I felt I could get myself out, but I miscalculated and fell to the ground, hitting my head in the process and blacking out instantly. Everyone thought I wouldn't make it, luckily it was just a concussion.

I woke up in the hospital to see dad by my side, sobbing like a baby.

Yes, with dad - it's always been about me.

Deja vu hits me like a brick wall.

Instead of soothing him, I just stare straight ahead, shocked into silence, saying nothing, until I creep my hand towards his and pat it awkwardly.

I suddenly jerk up, wincing as pain slices into my stomach.

Does dad know?

Does he know I had a child, but lost it?

I can't bear to know how he'd take it if he finds out.

A knock sounds at the door and dad averts his face away from it - I'm guessing so no one would catch him in the embarrassing act of crying.

In walks Tomide, closely followed by Mr. Faseun.

My chest tightens instantly.

What is he doing here?

"What do you want?" I manage to grate out as they come close. I look to Tom for explanations and they both look shocked at my outburst.

Dad excuses himself and surprisingly, so does Tomide, leaving me alone with Mr. Faseun.

"How are you feeling? I heard about the accident from your cousin. I've been here everyday since --"

" -- so you came to gloat?" I ask, cutting him off. "You came to see if I was still alive, that it?"

His shocked look makes me regret my sudden outburst -- almost. It's then I realise he was here earlier on. He was the one that spoke to me. No wonder his voice sounded familiar.

He walks closer into the room, warily, stopping some paces away from me. "I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment from you, but I only want your recovery, although I can understand how you must feel, not being aware of your surroundings for one month will make anyone cranky."

The scent of his cologne wafts into my nostrils, almost slapping me in the face at how strong it is, and I can only stare in anger at him, but try as much as I want to hold on to it, it slowly slips away from me, wrenching a long drawn out sigh from my lips.

I'm sure he didn't mean to send the text, he was probably pushed by his son to do it.

"Can I brief you on what's been going on?" He comes closer then, looking at me with apprehension. I decide to let go of the anger all together and give him a chance to talk, to explain, but what comes out of his mouth is more shocking to me than being in a coma for one month.

"Well... " He starts. (I have come to realise that whenever someone starts a conversation with that word, it usually doesn't end well.) you were found on the road, unconscious and bleeding, your car was a total wreck. It was really shocking to everyone, so when I found out, I took permission from your parents and collected your phone so as to get some clues about -- "

"What?" I splutter, jerking up in the process. I can feel the beginnings of a headache around my temples and I close my eyes to stave off the sudden dizziness threatening to engulf me.

He moves closer to me, but I put up a hand to stop him from coming any further. When I finally get myself under some control, I ask the obvious question. "Why would they trust you by giving you my phone?"

His lips thin considerably and I faintly wonder if he's angry. "Well... " That word again. "It's because - "

" - let me guess; because you've got connections?" I knew mum liked him, I saw it in her eyes the day he came to invite me to his staff awards event, but to hand over my phone, just like that, to a total stranger is taking it too far.

He sighs and decides to sit down at the foot of the bed, without even asking me first, so I move my legs away from him, as far as the narrow bed will allow.

He notices this but says nothing, except to continue from where he stopped, as if he hadn't just been interrupted by me. "When I checked your phone, I found out from your last phone call, someone under the name Batman, so I asked your cousin and he told me Segun, my Head HR is actually the one who's number you saved as that. He said you were actually on your way to see him, so I had him taken in for questioning at the police station."

"What?" I screech. "Are you telling me you put him in jail?"

His reaction to my reaction is almost comical. He looks like I just struck him across the face, but I'm past caring at this point. All the hurt and pain come bubbling up and out as fiery words take over. "Who the hell do you think you are, waltzing into my life and charming my parents in order to do some unholy act and ... and locking Batman up like you're some ... some don, some boss? Are you so damn jobless that you can't just leave me alone? I thought you made it clear in your text that you want nothing to do with me, so why, tell me why you'd think it's okay to do what you're doing now, by interfering in my life?"

I'm breathing so hard now that I begin shaking. Instead of him walking off like I expect him to, he hugs me to him loosely, probably afraid that I might scratch his eyes out if he holds me tightly.

After awhile, he pulls away and looks at me for some time before speaking. "Breath . . . just breath." His expression is akin to concern and another emotion I can't quite put a finger to. "Eve ... I never sent you any text. What are you talking about?" He enunciates his words slowly.

But I'm not done with being vengeful, yet. "You're a real piece of work, you know. The text you sent telling me you don't want to ever see me again, does that revive your memory, somewhat?" He looks dumbly at me."Where's my phone?" I snap suddenly, taking him out of his stupor.

He looks crestfallen as he pats his pocket and brings it out, handing it over to me wordlessly. I collect it from him and scroll through my text messages, noticing several texts from Ebere and even Batman, but I overlook them and click on the one I received from him. I hand it to over with a huff.

He stares at it open mouthed as words try to spill from his lips, but he closes his mouth and opens it again, as a frown takes permanent residence on his forehead. "I didn't send this. I've been looking for my phone but never found it, so I had to get another one and a welcome back sim too, I ..." Realisation seems to dawn on his face as he claps a palm across his forehead and sighs dramatically, shaking his head from left to right. "This must have been Dee's handwork. He must have sent this text." His frown deepens. "What I don't understand though, is why."

His face is set into a grim line as he hands me back my phone. "I'm so very sorry you had to see that. I want you to know I never sent you that text, I would never do that. My sincere apologies."

Dee sent the text?

Ah! That explains things.

So Mr. Faseun still doesn't know that Dee and I were an item?

Things are going to be really awkward when he finds out - if he finds out.

Now I can't even begin to wrap my head around that as my focus is on someone else entirely.

"Where is Batman now?"

His face clouds with confusion, but then it clears, and I see hesitancy taking over, but only briefly, before he replies in clipped tones. "Outside... eagerly waiting to speak to you."

I sit up straight, my previous slouched position a thing of the past, as pleasure races along my spine.

He looks at me for a bit, his expression undecipherable, then turns and walks out.

Next second, Batman walks in, head bent, not meeting my eyes. His shoulders are stooped and defeated. Pity courses through me. I know it wasn't easy, him being interrogated for a crime he knows nothing about.

He stops at the foot of my bed and doesn't come closer. "I ... I just came to ... to tell you that I'm sorry about everything. Please get well soon."

Shock spirals through me as I stare transfixed at him.

It sounds like he's saying good bye and that scares me. We might not be anything to each other, but at least, what we had - the little of it, was something special to me.

I struggle to sit up but he's beside me in the twinkle of an eye. "Please don't stress yourself. I'm not worth it!"

Who is this stranger before me?

My Batman literally radiated sparks, but this man before me just seems ... empty.

Definitely not my Batman!

This man just sounds plain ... sad. He is not the fiesty man I know. He's like an empty shell - a doppelganger of Batman.

"Why are -- "

" -- look just forget about me okay!" And in this brief instant, he bares his emotions to me as he shoots me an intense look filled with longing. His eyes darken considerably and in this instance, he silently communicates to me so many emotions, but this lasts only a few nanoseconds before he walks out, leaving my head whirring, wondering what just happened.

I stare oddly at the door, long after he leaves, not missing the fact that he didn't call me princess - not even once!

He didn't even give me the chance to tell him I was pregnant for him, either.

What on earth is going on?