That's the Way Life Is (3)

Though Akpokene's revelation eased Emeravwe's distress, the effects did not last long.

Several days later, when she and Akpokene reported to the Bureau of Halls and Chambers, an Omote told her a Eunuch had come to ask of her. He gave no name, but when she described him as having a yellow headcloth, Emeravwe's heart soared. She was sure it could only be Aslan.

Her excitement quickly dampened, though, when the Omote revealed that she informed the Eunuch of Emeravwe's punishment at the Bureau of Wardrobes.

Emeravwe could hardly sleep that night for worrying.

She hoped anxiously that the Omote did not tell Aslan why she had been punished. He would not be pleased with her.

When the period of her punishment ended, it was with apprehension that she returned to the garden in the Eunuch's Compound.

Head bowed, she passed nervously beneath the palm trees. She expected a cold greeting, which was the norm on the rare occasions Aslan was upset with her.

She was welcomed, instead, by a chorus of crickets.

Peering through the night and across the pond, she tiptoed toward the stone bench.

At first, she could make nothing out, and her heart wound in a contradicting mix of disappointment and relief at the thought that Aslan had not come. Then, drawing closer to the bench, she made out a form lying there. Aslan's brown Eunuchs' robes draped down to lightly brush the ground.

Emeravwe paused just before the pond. Her anxiety rose again, even as a smile quirked her lips.

"Why have you stopped?" came Aslan's voice, and she sucked in a startled breath. "Come closer."

"I-I thought you were sleeping." She inched toward the bench.

"Just resting."

He sat up and straightened his robes. Then he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small matchbox. From it, he drew a match and lit the candle in the glass lantern beside the bench. His movements were fluid and unhurried. His attention focused. He replaced the box in his sleeve, then fixed his eyes on Emeravwe.

She had barely moved.

She froze now as Aslan's face settled in an unfathomable expression. His eyes were unwavering as he watched her in long silence.

She held her breath, waiting.

"You were finally able to pull the hair from the heads of your worst enemies. How was it?" Aslan's tone was even, as stony as his stare.

Emeravwe hovered. She did not know how to respond, and wondered if that was a question she should even answer.

She studied his calm features. Then released the breath she held and puffed up her chest.

Deciding that ignoring the question was her safest route, she strode bravely to the bench.

Aslan leaned forward, persisting, "Was it enjoyable?"

Emeravwe furrowed her brow incredulously. "No! I was hurt, too!"

"Ah." His eyes waxed austere as he sat up again. His voice cooled. "So your pain is the only one that matters."

Emeravwe was silent. She did not like Aslan being upset with her, but he was not being fair, either. He knew better than anyone how Omote Oluchi and Ngozi antagonized her and Akpokene.

She felt that familiar lump clawing up her chest, but forced it down. She looked obstinately at him.

"They hurt us first!" she defended, unyielding.

"I am sure of it." Aslan's tone was softer.

He beckoned her closer till she stood before him. Then gently took her hands in his. "That is why I am asking if hurting them in return made you feel better."

Since their fight, Omote Oluchi and Ngozi treated Emeravwe and Akpokene much worse than before. Even the Aye of the Bureau of Halls and Chambers were harsh with them, assigning them to clean the latrines of the Maidens' Compound almost every day.

Emeravwe knew it was because Omote Oluchi and Ngozi were connected to officials at court. While she and Akpokene were, at best, an orphaned "valued child" and an Orhorho.

The incident only made the difference between her and her two roommates starker to Emeravwe.

She was sorry to have hurt them, but only because doing so hurt her more.

"Eme," Aslan said sweetly, using the pet name he had begun to call her by, as he gently lifted her defiant chin, "they were hurt, too. It is hard to see that when you feel your own pain so strongly, but you must not ignore it."

Emeravwe's eyes stung with tears. Her chest felt suffocated. She did not know whether it was because she was angry at Omote Oluchi and Ngozi for how they treated her all these years, or angrier at herself for being so helpless. Or at Aslan for saying what he did.

She knew he was right, but she did not want to think about Omote Oluchi and Ngozi's pain. They deserved it.

Yet, she could not stop the tears from flooding her eyes, and hated Aslan for making her feel so guilty when Omote Oluchi and Ngozi had done worse things to her.

Even so, she let him enfold her in his arms, and allowed herself to be comforted by him as he lightly petted her head.

"I know they have hurt you, Eme," he said soothingly, "but that does not mean you should hurt them in return. Everyone suffers that way."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" She sobbed into his robes, choked by hiccups.

"Perhaps you could try apologizing to them? If you do, they may also apologize for hurting you."

Emeravwe was silent but for the hiccups muffled in Aslan's robes.

"Will you try, Eme?" he asked when she still did not answer.

After a moment more, she nodded.

And she did try.

No matter how she pleaded and reasoned with Akpokene, she refused to apologize with her. So Emeravwe approached Omote Oluchi and Ngozi in their chamber the following evening.

With several false starts, and much stuttering, she managed to mumble a somewhat sincere apology for the fight they had gotten into.

Omote Oluchi flung the comb in her hand at Emeravwe's head, missing by a close inch.

She retorted bitterly, "Take your donkey's gall apology and feed it to your pet Wuhwuh!"

"If a nameless beast wants forgiveness, it should grovel on its knees and pay us obeisance of the first degree!" Omote Ngozi demanded.

It took all the self-control she could muster for Emeravwe not to lunge at the girls again, and she thanked Oghene that Akpokene refused to apologize with her.

When she told Aslan how Omote Oluchi and Ngozi reacted, he still did not seem to blame the girls for their wickedness, and this vexed Emeravwe.

"There are people like that in this world, Eme," he said as she brooded by a stout cycad to one side of the garden's bench.

"Not everyone may like us. But we must embrace even those who wish ill against us, and learn to forgive those who are unrepentant."

"What if I cannot?" she shot back, angry that he was so willing to forgive Omote Oluchi and Ngozi yet was so hard on her.

How could he expect her to forgive them when they treated her so wretchedly, even when she took the trouble to apologize to them?

How could she forgive them when they were not even sorry for how miserable they made her life, though she did nothing to them?

She could not!

Aslan looked a long time at Emeravwe. His somber gaze and grave bearing slowly melted her annoyance despite herself.

Finally, he reached a hand to her, saying softly, "Then I shall bear the responsibility, and embrace your pain, as well."

Emeravwe did not know what he meant. But the sad way he looked at her gnawed her heart so that she could hardly stay angry at him. She took his out-stretched hand, walking into his embrace.

He held her firmly and, feeling that he needed the comfort just as much as she did, she wrapped her own small arms around him and gently patted his back.