Fate has its own way of arranging our lives. Hardly a month went by when I was summoned to the principal’s office as a matter of urgency.
‘Dear Miss Cook,’ miss Rivers announced in her characteristic austere tone as soon as I stepped into her office. Her office smelt of a potent vanilla scent coming possibly from old books and examination answer scripts. ‘Reverend Joshua Smith is here to take you home. Another emergency am afraid has occurred.’
‘Good morning Miss Leila.’ It was that deep husky yet powerful voice belonging to Reverend Smith from our local Garfield Country Church that thundered next into my ears sending my heart pulsating within me. This had to be serious.
Indeed, it was serious. Papa was in jail although I only got to find out the details upon arrival at home.
‘Leila dear,’ mother's cries came to my ears as soon as I disembarked. I found myself in her arms and both of us crying.
‘Where’s papa?’ I asked
‘He’s being held at the Kalkaska county Jail.’ Mother replied
‘That’s twenty three kilometers north.’ Reverend Smith’s voice interjected.
‘What did he do?’ I interrogated them both.
‘Please come inside and sit down first before we can say any more. Reverend, thank you for bringing Leila back home, you too may come in.’
‘No Misses Cook, I better head home.' I heard the Reverend’s protests, 'Am sorry about Mister Cook, and I’ll pray for him.’
‘Thank you.’ I heard mother say.
Inside, mother turned to address me.
‘Leila sweetie, your father has been having some land tax issues on this property but we thought we mustn't tell you since you were still at school.’
‘So what’s that got to do with his arrest?’ I asked eager she gets to the crux of the matter.
‘A few weeks ago some men from the government came here and said this property, the house and farm were up for foreclosure. These men put up a sign which your father in turn removed. He argued that technically, this property still belonged to him. He also requested for some more time to clear up but the men were having none of this either. They instead went ahead and put the property up for auction.’
‘How much mother, did papa owe the government?’
‘Thirty thousand dollars’
‘God no!’
‘Word travels fast in these parts my dear, soon bidders were showing up here inspecting the property and your father was having none of this. Yesterday, it all came to a head when Adam’s father Carl showed up too, he said he was here to inspect the property and…’
‘And what mother, what are you trying to say?’ I asked my anxiety at fever pitch.
‘Yes, Sweetie, your father took out his shot gun…’
‘No mother, he didn’t.’
‘Yes Leila, your father shot that poor man.’ She managed to say before breaking out crying.
‘No, no, no, no.’ I muttered. My entire being was swallowed up in rage. Mother said Carl had been rushed to Paul Oliver memorial hospital by county Sheriff Edgar Woodman who in turn arrested papa.
‘How is Adam’s father?’ I asked through the maze of tears flowing from my eyes.
‘Leila love,' mother said in reply, 'he didn’t make it.’
I still find it hard to comprehend the violence with which my heart was assaulted the very moment those words hit me. They hit me with such force that my tummy contracted, I dropped on my knees and found myself vomiting on the floor, wailing.
'What has papa done?' I kept asking. He had stabbed and fatally wounded my heart. How could I ever face Adam again knowing my father had violently taken the life of the only parent he had ever known? How unlucky can one be?
For as long as I can remember, the idea of death had never really crossed my mind. Hearing my parents discuss and grieve over the loss of Uncle Greg, papa’s brother, was the closest I had ever come to knowing such tragedies were for real. This was the first funeral I was about to attend in my entire life and It was nerve-raking. I also felt guilty deep within me for I didn’t know if our family was welcome at the funeral. At some point I thought twice about attending but I had to. I knew it was only right I showed up and consoled my grief stricken Adam.
Everything about this particular day was depressing.It was cold and damp and the air remained still as we stood in silent grief awaiting the start of the funeral service.I could hear loud sobs from people who I guessed were from the immediate family of the bereaved. My insides mangled.
Reverend Smith led the funeral service. I knew Adam was standing somewhere in the mourners. Fate had indeed brought us back together but how differently had I envisioned our next meeting. A sad female voice described Carl as a happy man who was the life and soul of Smithville. A few more voices spoke in detail about the deceased, and then I heard Adam's stuttering voice.
‘Pips, the lights in your life have all gone out, taken violently in every possible way. You didn’t deserve to go like this.' Adam spoke slowly. 'I still cannot believe that today you’re gone forever. It seems like it was only yesterday that you taught me to ride a bicycle, took me to school, fed me and nursed me. You were my father and you were my mother. Life for me as I know it will never be the same with you gone from my very eyes. You will be missed by so many people, but most of all, you will be truly missed by me.'
My heart couldn’t hold out any longer, l bent over and sobbed uncontrollably. I felt a deep sadness engulf my very life. And as they lowered the coffin, I realized that this was the last time Adam would ever see his father ever again. I sobbed again. I heard hard earth being dropped onto the casket as reverend smith said those most solemn words,
‘From earth to earth, ashes to ashes and dust to dust’
‘Tell Adam I wish to speak with him.’ I said to Abby who all along was fixed by my side.
‘Okay.’ She replied and for a minute or so I remained with mother who throughout the service had kept sobbing silently. I felt sorry for mother too, I knew she was grieving for Papa and how our family would be perceived thereon by the community. Already, I could sense that since our arrival at the funeral procession, apart from reverend smith, no one else had spoken a word to us.
Abby was back in a flash.
‘I’m sorry Lei. Adam doesn’t want to speak to you.’ She whispered in my ear.
I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected such a reply but I understood. I clearly understood why he didn’t wish to speak to me after all my family was responsible for his grief. I understood because, well, it was too early for him to heal. I also understood he needed time to come to terms with his loss and maybe forgive us for such an unforgivable act. However, I had intended he know I had come to lend a supporting hand, and grieve with him .I hoped and prayed to God that at least he would understand this. Adam’s flat rejection of my plea was one I could live with, what I couldn’t live with, was a fact only I knew. He had rebuffed me unaware I was carrying his child.