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When he’d first approached Phillis Publishers, he stared at the old building and thought that they would eagerly snatch his writing and probably insist on a contract, for several years of publishing rights… he’d been mistaken.
Daniel had been naive, but not anymore. Though he maintained optimism, it wasn’t blindly, he was only very confident about the material he’d brought to be viewed.
And he’d been waiting for hours, in fact, all day. The wall clock on the peeling wall put the time at ten minutes to four pm, the official time for close of work. If he hadn’t signed the permission slip to be absent today from his day job, he would been in danger of a query.
He sighed heavily and got an impatient look from the typing secretary.
“I’m sorry to be a bother, but, are you sure you gave him the manuscript?” Daniel asked apologetically.
“I told you to check back tomorrow but you wouldn’t listen. I knew he’d be busy today, and for your insinuation that I might not have given him your…”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just wondered if you could maybe remind him that I’m still waiting…”
“He knows you’re waiting, he’s just really busy,” the petite secretary snapped, before returning her attention to the screen of her computer monitor.
Danny nodded understandingly, but thought, busy my foot, no one had come through that door since he’d set foot in it. The owner of the establishment was just a well known sadist, at least to him, he would know this after dealing with him more than once…four times to be precise.
Over an hour later, after the secretary had long since locked up shop, the door to the main office finally opened, and Daniel jumped up eagerly.
“Hello Sir. I was almost leaving, I’m glad I waited,” Daniel said, silently congratulating his tenacity.
“Mr. Daniel…,” the middle aged publisher greeted, but not enthusiastically. His face said that he was regretting this meeting.
“I’m assuming it was an interesting read. It must have been why you took the whole day,” Daniel added, unable to resist the urge to point out the man’s unfairness in keeping him waiting. He knew publishers decided to publish or not to publish from the first page; the man would have put him out of his misery hours back.
The old timer cocked a questioning eyebrow, “Is that sarcasm I hear, Mr. Daniel?”
“I’m sorry,” Daniel coughed. “I’m just…did you like the book?”
The man sighed wearily, giving up his offended expression and deciding to get the awkward moment of rejection over with.
“Like the other three you brought, they are all good, in fact, excellent…”
Danny stared at the lumber of man and allowed his shoulder to droop in disappointment. “But…,” he prompted the man to continue, he needed to hear his latest excuse.
“But…I must have neglected to tell you the last time you were here that we do not publish psychology based materials.”
“Oh,” was the only thing he could manage. No matter how you expect disappointment and brace yourself for it, the feeling still always weakens your metabolism for the first few minutes.
“What you need to do, is seek out professional bodies, your materials, I’m sure, will readily be published in one psychology journal or the other. Think about it,” the man said encouragingly. But deep down, he thought, young man I don’t want a cold dinner, leave already.
Daniel drew up himself, sucked in a fortifying breath and managed a smile at the man as he collected the heavy sheave of paper, which constituted his hard work.
“Thank you for time, sir,” he said and turned before the man could answer. He was basically a tenacious man, but right now, all he could think of was giving up, he never wanted to touch a pen again, at least for now.
~*********~
He trudged all the way home, hoping that the night breeze would calm the heat in his head. When he got into his gate, Daniel physically shook himself and jogged in place to release the tension of his disappointment.
When he entered his home, he wanted to be able to genuinely smile for his daughter. And be able to pretend to his wife that he’d not, recently, been so sorely disappointed, so much so, his heart felt fisted in his chest.
It took a while of jogging and deep breaths to loosen the tight knot in his chest. At one point, he almost felt like crying. He realized it wasn’t really about the money at this point; it was now about his dreams being unanaled before its death.
After analyzing his feelings and putting them to rest for the time being, he actually looked forward to seeing his daughter. Her bright smile and happy squeal would be a welcome balm for his heart.
But when he got to the front door, he found it slightly open, instant dread surged up from his belly so hard, his breath choked. Ignoring how he was feeling, he over looked it, knowing his wife was careless, she probably was out getting the laundry at the back.
He pushed the door and entered, but the nagging feeling would not leave, he was sure, something worst than finding his father’s dead body was about to happen to him again. The feeling of cold dread was so similar, even after so many years he could still recognize the feeling.
The house did not just feel cold, it felt empty, as though it hadn’t been lived in for a while. A stupid thought, since the home and its furniture looked the same.
“Stop spooking yourself Daniel,” he muttered and closed the door behind him, listening and expecting his daughter’s squeal of delight, any minute.
“Stacey…daughter moi…your only daddy is home!” he called out despite the cloying fear swirling in his stomach.
No answer.
“Is she asleep already? Honey?” he called his wife instead, still fighting the fear and maintaining a pleasant tone. If he didn’t acknowledge it, it would go away. Just like your father’s own went away? His mind mocked him with the question.
“She can’t be asleep yet,” he murmured to himself, still trying to shot off what his mind and spirit already knew.
But then, as always, reality came crashing in…his eyes glanced at the Stacey play corner, and found it empty of all the toys. In the years that the space had been set out for their daughter, those toys had never left that place.
“Stacey!” he rushed then into the house which had only two rooms. The master bedroom had been meant for himself and his wife, but she’d refused to stay with him when their daughter had turned five, she moved to the other room, sharing the room with Stacey.
His first stop was there and the sight of the empty room almost bowed him over. The wardrobe usually cluttered with Susan’s bric-a-brac was mostly cleaned out; two of her boxes were missing. Stacey had one big box that was missing too, her small locker, made for her story books and home notes, lay open and bare.
“Maybe, she took her to her mother’s. A move to, maybe, force me to work at her mother’s company,” he muttered crazily to himself and reached for his phone. As he waited for it to ring, he tapped his foot nervously, his mind mocking him again… you already know, Daniel, you already know.
~*********~
God, police stations stink.
This was my only reoccurring thought while I waited at the counter to be booked in for the night. I was consciously refusing to think of the children, especially Richard. I was refusing to think of how worried Big Mama would be when I didn’t turn up later that night.
I was refusing to think, because if I did, I’d cave and tell the cops where I live…where I’ve lived all these years and the houses I’ve broken into.
“I don’t know which one is worse,” the cop at the counter told his colleague. “Couldn’t she have just prostituted like her mates, why steal…”
“Of all things, food, just food,” the lady cop added.
My mouth dropped in consternation, I’m sitting right here, people, I silently huffed. Frowning, I looked away from them and stared through the cubbyhole called a window and the darkening skyline.
Big Mama had too much to worry about. She had the teenage kids to contained with, I, at twenty-one, would just be a burden. No need to call negative attention to the woman’s good deed, there was no need to ask her to rescue me and then live all her life being portrayed as a thief trainer.
Because that’s how the society would see her; I knew how the average Akwa Ibomite’s thinking process was, they’d swiftly forget the selflessness of Big Mama, caring for other people’s children even when she wasn’t obligated to. They’d pounce on her for bringing up criminals, and since I was the oldest, and female, they’d assumed the teenage boys were sort of in training.
They’d make a mountain out of a mole hill, and if Big Mama wasn’t ostracized from that community, her stay there would definitely be the most uncomfortable experience she’d ever face.
No, even though I’m not sure of these assumptions, they were strong enough to warrant my hesitation, so, I’m not even going to try, no point giving it a chance to come true. I shall rely on my luck, if I have any, and on my wits, which I have plenty.
“Uwana Ukpong!”
I was startled out of my thoughts, “Yes,” I mumbled.
“Is that how to answer your superior!” the lady cop thundered self righteously; she slapped me across the face and spat at my feet.
I looked up at the man that had called my name, silently reporting the injustice that had just befallen me. But the smile on his oily face was reply enough; this is what I’d have to face for the time being.
I wondered how long that time would be, as I was ushered into my cell. The eyes that stared back were malicious, with evil intent. I swallowed, be strong, Wana, I thought. Bring out your wit and be courageous.
There was absolutely nothing courageous about the fearful whimper that escaped my dry mouth, when the iron gate of the cell clanked shot with echoing finality.
~*********~
Susan’s number was switched off.
You already know, Daniel, you already know.
His mind wouldn’t quit bothering him with that line of reasoning. He’d been ignoring it, and dialed her number again…still switched off.
How could she, he thought while dialing another number. It rang for a long time, and then the owner picked just as it was about to cut off.
“Hello! Mrs. Grant, good evening,” Daniel said, trying hard to control his shaky voice, but he was too breathless to do anything about it…and too scared.
“Daniel, are…”
“Ma, please, are Susan and Stacey with you?”
“With me…how do you mean?” the woman actually sounded confused.
“She must have brought Stacey over there,” Daniel insisted, he hoped his reasoning was right.
“No, Daniel, I’ve not seen Susan nor Stacey…”
“She put you up to this! I know she…” Daniel was barking at this point into the phone, not bothering to listen to Mrs. Grant’s worried voice.
“Are you saying Susan and…”
“I came back home to find all their things gone! She left with my daughter! My Stacey…” He cut the call then because he couldn’t control his tears and because he had to call a cop friend to visit Mrs. Grant’s home and verify that his wife and daughter were actually not there.
…you already know…
Of course he already knew.
As expected, they weren’t at his mother-in-law’s place. God only knew when she’d left…with his baby, or where she was headed.
He finally had clarity, all the quarrels, and disagreements began making sense, she’d been priming herself to leave him. Daniel remembered her unusually clean room, she’d already parked by that morning…he’d not known…
His cop friend suggested they check every hotel they could think of and friend’s place, it was no use she wasn’t at any of those places. The transport companies didn’t yield much; the cop said it would take weeks to look through all their travel manifests.
It remained that Susan had left with his daughter, the realization was devastating. Why hadn’t she asked him for a divorce, he would have gladly given her freedom, as long as he got to be with his kid, as long as he got to watch Stacey grow.
Susan knew he loved Stacey, he loved his daughter a whole lot more than her mother, and this act of leaving, was a definite smack to his face. Daniel knew how vindictive Susan could be, she’d been planning this all along, because he hadn’t given her what she’d wanted, she in turn took away what she’d given him…his daughter.
She knew Daniel would be devastated by the loss of his daughter, Stacey was his life.
He groaned as the pain travelled from his stomach and wedged tightly in his chest. He was breathless, it felt as though his chest was about to explode in grief, he paused on his walk home, after hours of going about with the police.
“It’s late Daniel, let’s pick up tomorrow, okay?” The cop had to shake his friend’s shoulder to get his attention. What would lead a woman to do this kind of thing? He was very sure she must have run off with another man. Women were so evil, how could she take another man’s child to another man?
He shook his head sadly, “Hey, Daniel!” he shook him again.
Daniel vaguely remembered thanking his friend who promised to reach out to him the next day. He’d thanked him continuously until the police van had driven off, leaving him at the edge of his street to find his way home.
It was the same stroll he’d taken earlier that day, the one that led him to find his family gone. Daniel staggered along, his legs barely carrying his weight, it felt like he was having an out of body experience…not knowing where Susan had taken his daughter to was killing him.
His friend had advised him to get some sleep, as though his mind would allow that luxury. How could he sleep when his daughter was missing? The pain in the chest assailed him again, this time, the knot was tighter than usual, he gasped, held his chest with his right hand and staggered across the street unseeingly, he looked like a drunk.
Suddenly, bright light blinded him, and the blare of a car horn blasted in his ears, the desperate squeal of brakes left him numb. He felt the thump, he felt the force throwing him backwards, he felt the pain lancing through his side, the heat of a weal where the coal tar had lacerated his skin.
He felt the warm heaviness of blood sliding down his nose, when he tried to reach up and wipe it, he realized that he’d fallen on his right hand. And his left hand, surprisingly, still held onto his laptop bag, containing his rejected works.
Daniel sobbed then, or he thought he did. He knew he was going to die and just before the darkness swallowed him; his bleary sight caught the fast retreating red of the car’s tail light. It was a befitting end…he welcomed the calm with a softly expelled sigh.
The story continues…
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