OLD MAN'S TALE-4

   
                                                          EPISODE 4

            “Yes, go to Africa and enjoy the beautiful culture and heritage of Africa.”

 Mary smiled as she pondered on his words. He wasn’t different from his kind that regards Africa, a big and populous continent as a country. Why would he tell her to go to Africa like Africa was a small country? Why didn’t he mention a specific country? Her country, Nigeria, a populous country with diverse cultures and tribes is as big as a continent. No one needed to be told that such a magnificent continent shouldn’t be called a country. She believed it was just sarcasm. But she decided to smile as she said, “Old man, you know I am an African lady.”

             “That doesn’t mean you know Africa. Many Africans are yet to realise the beauty in Africa. I would have loved to travel to many more Africa countries than I did, but my blurred vision and weak muscles hindered me. I blamed myself after all. Why didn’t I choose to go to Africa while I was agile? I wouldn’t have thought of that while I was still a strong man because then I so much detested Africa. But just few trips to Mozambique, then I fell in love with African art. Mary, you need to know how enthralled I was by some of the stories behind some of the arts.  I felt so sorry for myself when I was told about so many other African countries with more beautiful art. After I explored Mozambique, I went to Ghana. While visiting a Ghanaian museum I became aware of its very beautiful culture and it gave the motivation to do so many of my paintings that gained lots of recognitions.  I was thinking about going to Nigeria but I suddenly fell sick, then the mission to explore Nigerian art was cancelled.”

              Mary was happy once Peter became mute. Although, she had enjoyed his unanticipated enthusiasm for African art, however she was covered up with shame. How would an old American talk incessantly about her continent that she knew little about? She knew she wasn’t the only African that had lost any enthusiasm for their continent. Many times she had been engaged in discussions about how Africa had been embedded in corruption. Also, she hated her country, Nigeria. She had never had the zeal to return home after spending  eighteen years in the United States.

             “Old man,” Mary said as she held onto his wrinkled hand. “Thank you,” she whispered into his small ears.

             “Mary,” Peter called all of a sudden. “Be faithful to God.”

             “I am.” Mary lied.

            “I think I can rest in peace now,” Peter said and Mary laughed.

 Mary went everywhere with Peter’s words in her heart. She thought of them more often while she was with him. However once Helen resumed to her duty, she went on a compulsory training in Philadelphia. While in Philadelphia, she was never tired of thinking of the old man and his words. She called Helen several times to ask after him and Helen was always surprised each time Peter smiled as she mentioned Mary. One mid-afternoon during a break, Helen called and her words melted Mary’s heart and made shivers run down her spine. Old man, Peter was dead. He had died in his sleep. She was surprised when Helen told her that the old man had something for her.

            Mary was at the  nursing home few days after Helen had called. She was not only amused to find Helen addressing so many new reporters that crowded the nursing home, she was contented. They wanted to have some stories about his death. Soon the front page of the newspapers would be virtually about him. She was glad that his death was felt after all. If only he could see, he could have smiled with pride. Once she walked into the room Peter had used, she became aware of a young man. He introduced himself as Peter’s grandson, some resemblance between him and Peter made it evident.

            “You must be Mary,” Andrew said and Mary beamed with pride.

             “Yes. I am so sorry about your loss.”

             “Thanks.” Andrew stared mutely at her for a while, before he said, “Peter talked about you. He said you were his African lady.” He smiled, but the bewilderment in his eyes was still apparent which kept Mary wondering what Peter had said about her. After she had helped pack the few things left in the room, they walked wordlessly to the parking lot of the nursing home. She was surprised that he didn’t possess the inquiry spirit his grandfather had despite the remarkable resemblance. Peter was never quiet. Instead of stomaching puzzlement, he would rather kill you with questions. She watched him with awe as he removed a carton from his car and stretched it towards her.

             “He had instructed that I pack all Marilyn books from his room and give them to you.” Mary stared at him speechlessly. More questions sprang to her mind as he handed a puffy envelop to her.

             “Thank you,” Mary said and he nodded. “Words can’t describe how awesome the months I spent with him had been. He was a good man with a remarkable oratory skill. He talked to me like his voice weren’t feeble. Andrew nodded. “He struggled never to stumble on his words. He was a strong man. If only death wasn’t unbeatable, he would have beaten death.” Mary added.

             “He was a kind grandfather.” Andrew voiced out after thinking of what to say. He knew little about him. He wouldn’t blame himself, but his father would have never given him a chance to be a grandson that he wanted to be. His father had never considered Peter a good father. He knew the reason for the strong hatred was that his grandfather had abandoned his father the time he needed him most. But he wished his father had forgiven him while he was little. If he had, he would have acquired more artistic knowledge than what he had gained from him.

             “Very kind,” Mary mentioned even though she wanted to say more than she had said. Her face tingled with pride as she remembered all the lessons she had gained from him. She knew she was the only one opportune to have the old man’s lessons about life.  They were going to live in her heart forever and remold her life forever. Ever since she had Peter’s words in mind, she had stopped cheating on Mike, she had focused more on her career instead of envying her cousin, a famous model and she had called home more often than before.

          Andrew bade good bye before he jumped into his car although he wanted to ask so many questions. If only he had the courage, he could have asked what special care she rendered to his grandfather that made him to love an African lady so dearly. However he knew he wouldn’t ask even if he grew the courage.

             Once Andrew left, Mary stared curiously at the sealed envelope before she opened it. Her mouth widely opened as her jaw fell, her heart skipped and her eyes shone with amusement at the numerous dollars in the envelope. She wanted to run towards the gate to see if she could catch up with Andrew until her eyes fell on a sheet of paper inside the envelope. ‘Go to Africa and enjoy Africa’ was boldly written on the sheet, forcing a smile on her face, and then chuckling as she counted the money. She would send some money to her mother to fix the leaking roof in her mother’s school. During her vacation she would travel to Nigeria then spend some time in Ghana. She must visit the Ghanaian museum. When her eyes fell on the pile of books in the carton, she knew she would become a vivid reader. She also knew that one day she would write about old Peter.

                          

   


THE END