Chapter 26

Joe didn't appear to me in human form like I envisaged; he answered my questions in a dream. I woke up with mixed feelings because Joe's response elicited both joy, surprise, anxiety and fear in me. Besides that, my second dream that night was totally bad. It was not new to me, yet it was still scary. It was the dream about mom's baby dying.

That would be like the third or maybe fourth time I would see mom in my dream, with a baby in her arms but she looked sad and tears streamed down her face as she stared at it because the baby in her arms was no longer breathing.

I was not the type that dreamed. In fact these dreams would be my first ever since I was born. They were spectacular dreams, and I was not as confused as I thought I'd be, because the two dreams were interwoven. In my last letter to Joe, I had asked him what the significance of his white pouch was-the small bag he left in my room before he passed away. It had taken him a while to reply me. Probably he was trying to decide whether to appear as a ghost in my room or use a medium or send a ghostly letter back, or make use of a dream. He finally decided on the last. He knew the rest of the options would scare me to the roots. I've never really seen a ghost except of course that figure lurking around my room's surroundings was a ghost. I hoped not.

In the dream, I was walking to the woods, all alone. In that dream, it was like I was actually sleeping or maybe I fell into a trance and then the trance paved away to what happened. Ever dreamed of having a dream? I mean, have you ever had a dream in your dream? Feels weird, but that's what happened to me. So, in the trance that happened in my dream, I was taking a walk alone in the woods, and then all of a sudden, my eyes darted around the woods, and I was suddenly feeling self conscious and aware of my surroundings.

To my surprise, I saw a wolf standing on a huge wood from a fallen tree. A big, lone wolf. He was blue and looked powerful. It seemed to be calling my name with its teeth. It was really strange but I actually ran up to him instead of running away. He patted my back with his paw and then stretched its eyes towards the sky. I heard it howl for some minutes and behold, a white pouch fell from the sky into the middle of us. It seemed to tell me to pick it up. So I did. I kept obeying the wolf subconsciously. It felt like I belonged to him, or we were friends, I don't know. The pouch then opened on its own accord, when I looked at it keenly, I found that it was just like Joe's own. When the pouch opened, I looked around my surroundings and found out that I was no longer in the woods, and the Wolf was no longer around me. Not only that, I was no longer eight years old--i was sixteen, tall and chubby and dressed in oversized jeans unlike the fitted gown I was dressed in, before i landed there

. The environment was serene. It wasn't looking like anywhere I've ever been to. It was strange but it looked familiar. In that new serene vicinity, I felt like I belonged there. It seemed to me that I knew where exactly to go and what exactly to do.

I started to walk farther into this vicinity that was strange, yet familiar to me. Suddenly it was year 2009 instead of 2001 that we were in reality, and I was walking back home from the woods. Are you confused?

Sorry, that's how confused I was, at first. Because the dream is not an ordinary one. It is one of time travel. I saw what would happen in eight years' time, and as much as it was intriguing to be able to see the future, I wished I hadn't seen it. Still I was partly glad I saw it.

I was walking home from the woods, and as my feet touched the dry leaves on the ground, I started to sing. I was carrying a wooden board, carved out of a fallen tree for the purpose of painting and I couldn't wait to get home to start. In few minutes like a swift wind, I drew close to home.

From afar, I saw mom outside, wailing. I saw something that looked like tears falling from her face. There at the door, was Pamela Amy, all grown, she was already eight years old. I got there and asked what happened, and mom told me that he has come.

"He has come. He has taken her away" She wailed. I tried to calm her down. Pamela was numb, she wasn't talking or crying.

"Who has come , mom? Who was taken? Where's Jamie?" I asked.

"Jamie is gone. She's been taken away. I can't find her anymore, my child is gone" Then to my greatest surprise, a scene appeared before me--i saw a man beating Jamie. A man with a black native /ancient overall and a local crown on his head. His teeth were very long and deadly. He was hitting her mercilessly with a horse whip, he hid her under an underground empty well. Her eyes were swollen and her legs were charred, still he kept beating her. I watched him lift the whip as he severally landed it on her back, without mercy. The whip appeared a bit heavy because his vein popped out of his wrist as he lifted it. As he lifted it the last time, my eyes did a microscopy and lo and behold, there on his wrist was the Blue Wolf sign, with a horn in the middle of the wolf's head The man appeared tall and had a wicked grin on his face. I saw his face very clearly but I did not recognize him. I mean, I did not know him anywhere in real life. He had a big, muscular build, and he was tall, maybe 6"1 or 6"3. After a while, he stopped, and then poured some fuel on her, then took a lighter, to set her on fire. But she ran, ran round the wide, underground well so that he'd not burn her. He finally got tired and left her there. Immediately the scene was wiped off, I let out a yell and ran back from where I was coming from, ran back into 2001, and I opened my eyes in reality

The first thing I asked Mom when I woke up was, "Mom, what year are we in?"

She said, "2001. Why?"

I heaved a sigh of relief and ran to the babies' cot to find them peacefully asleep. They were still babies. I kissed them on the cheeks and looked back at mom. She looked at me as if I was very weird. I'm sure she was wondering what has come over me.

I then brushed past mom and went back to my room. I sat at my desk and pulled the drawer where the pouch was lying. But the door opened immediately, so I shut back the drawer in time.

"Baby" It was mom. She came over to me, carried me and sat me on her thighs. I slipped off her thighs onto the bed because I didn't want to make her uncomfortable with my weight. Besides, I didn't want to look into her face. I didn't want to be asked any questions yet, because I myself was still trying to process the revelation I've been shown.

"What's happening?" She asked me. I looked around the room and realized that mom had changed my curtain into transparent ones. The curtain had designs of animals like tigers, wolves, cats etc. I stared at it for a while, and mom's eyes went there too. Soon, I stopped staring at the transparent curtain because I was seeing a reflection of something else outside my window. It was the figure of that intruder, trailing me. He passed by swiftly like the wind. In a twinkle of an eye, he was no longer there.

"What is wrong?" Mom's voice sounded worried. She stood up and touched my shoulders because she saw the fear in my eyes.

"The man...did you see him? Did you see him now?" I asked carefully, trying to bring my voice down

"What?" Mom looked around, with so much confusion on her face.

"Yes, he passed by now. I'm serious, mom" I said. She stood up and pulled me to herself. I started to shiver, with my heart palpitating and my hands clutching onto mom's waist.

"Who's he? What's going on, Ariana? I don't understand you" she hugged me so tightly and rubbed my hair. "What's wrong with my baby?"

"Mom, the man I told you about, I just saw him again. He passed by my window side, just now." I repeated. Mom sighed and kept patting my back. She didn't say a word after then.

"Baby, did you have a bad dream?" She asked.

"Mom, I'm not crazy or anything. I actually saw him. Mom, please do something, he's coming to take Jamie away" i pleaded. "Please please" I begged, sobbing. You should have seen mom's face-- it was horrific. She thought I was mad. Who wouldn't when I was the only one seeing that figure? And about taking Jamie away, what was that? She'd have thought.

That afternoon, she took me to Dr Brown--the therapist I had refused seeing the other day. She claimed that I was seeing things that were not there, and that I was acting all strange, and that i was running from school and refusing to do some things I used to love doing. She said she's so worried about me.

"Doctor, I need you to help me please. My daughter is not usually like this, I don't know what's going on. Please help me" mom cried.

And I was just sitting there, clutching onto her arms and watching Dr Brown listen to mom patiently. I was supposed to walk out of the office like I did the other day, because I didn't like the idea of being confined to a place or assigned to someone who'd make me talk about everything that's in my head that I shouldn't talk about, but I was hooked.

Dr Brown gave her a sheet of paper and asked her to write down some symptoms that I've been displaying. He actually said "Yes, she has PTSD, and she needs some therapy" I wanted to scream, "No that won't help me! I need a policeman that'll watch my surroundings for me and catch that man and send him to prison so that he'd not come to take Jamie away, eight years later" but I could not talk. I just listened to them.

After a while, Dr Brown faced me and asked me some questions. Of course I only answered some parts and beat about the bush with others. I didn't tell them about my little secret with Joe, and that Uncle Robinson was threatening me to go to camp so that he could punish me.

Dr Brown took me inside the far end of the office and asked me to pen down everything worrying me. I went through many processes with him. That day, mom paid him about $400 and then he fixed some meetings--we'd be meeting for three hours everyday for two months. Between the hours of 4pm and 7pm.

And so i was shuffling my days in between visiting my therapist, going to school and preparing for the quiz and spelling bee competition that was to hold at the Award night, which was the first night at our Annual Summer Camp. For some reason, I was grateful for the therapy--it helped me a bit. At least I wouldn't lay on bed at home watching the figure pass by my window. For the first few days at Dr Brown's, I was skeptical about the whole thing and I was also checking round the surroundings and watching out for him. Him--the guy that was after me which I didn't know about. But he wasn't anywhere around Dr Brown's. Like I said, it seemed he came only when he was certain I was alone, so Dr Brown's presence must have prevented him from coming as usual, or maybe he just wanted to lurk around where I lived, and nowhere else. It was easy to talk about him to my therapist. He asked me who I think he could be, I said, "I don't know. I really don't"

"How does he look like?"

"I can't say but he seems tall. And I'm not certain about its gender but I take it for a man. I don't think women have time to trail kids around like that" I told him.

"Why do you think anyone would be after you?" He asked. On my first day at his place when he had first asked this question, I was so irritated because I wondered in my mind, "If I knew all the answers to this, I wouldn't be here, so why ask me what I know nothing about?" But then, therapists know how to find their way around questions, and they ask you so calmly, without judging your answers. They let you show every expression and reaction without pulling you back. They never tell you to stop crying; instead they offer you a pack of tissues. They want to hear your opinion about things and not assume you don't know, or don't have an inkling of what could possibly be troubling your mind. They don't transform you into a better person; they help you transform yourself into a better person.

It was a helpful distraction going there every day. At least I didn't think about Joe too much. Or about the camp that was coming up. Of course, he prompted me to talk about him but then, I would try to avoid the question. Still, he wouldn't give up. He would persuade me to take baby steps in opening up to him. I sincerely hoped, everyday mom drove me there that one day, Dr Brown would not make me spill the beans, because if I did, not even therapy could help me stay alive.

In school everyday during lunch break, Uncle Robinson gathered some students, about ten of us in the general hall, training us. He'd teach us some 'difficult' words, and give us some questions to ponder on. There were so many things to work on--puzzles to unravel, riddles and Arithmetic to solve, books to read, objects to paint, music to hum and finally words to spell. The other nine students were good as well, so I wondered what I was needed for. One of them could be chosen to represent the school at the Award night. I really did not care if I wasn't chosen. Anita was always the chosen one. Or Joe. But since they were no more, Uncle Robinson had now turned to me.

I didn't like it but I couldn't argue anymore. I had to do it. After teaching us for an hour, he would give us some class work to solve and some oral tests. In most of it, I would deliberately spell some words wrongly, and do some sums in a wrong way.

"This training ends on the first of next month. By then, the person to represent us will be chosen. Of course, we need just one person but the two best students will be chosen to compete with each other on the first of next month, in this school. It's going to be a 30 minutes test and there'll be judges to help the occasion. Whoever has the highest score on his board will represent us at the Award night. And the second best will be compensated, while the rest of y'all who didn't make it to the final stage will be disqualified without question. Understood?"

I wanted to be disqualified. What I had to do was disobey some of the rules, and get myself failed so I won't make it to the final stage. I was determined to do that. "It will work" I told myself. Uncle Robinson was not the one to grade us, some other teacher did that. I didn't know who, but he himself said the results will be formed, collated and announced by an assistant in the hall, and every student would be present. So it was not him. He would not mark our scripts, I was grateful.

Whoever marked our scripts would be honest, and would fail me because I picked, wrote, typed and said the wrong answers in most of the questions. (Deliberately) Then, Uncle Robinson would have no choice than to disqualify me, and then, I would have enough time to serve my punishment at the camp.

Maria, Anita's little cousin was a bright girl too but she declined joining the rest of us for the training. She was still grieving and the teachers let her. They even asked her to take some days off school if she wanted. It was that bad. Well, the search for Anita didn't come to an end yet. Everyone was still on the lookout for the girl, I joined them too so no one would suspect anything but each time I did, something broke within me because I knew we were all searching for a person that was already dead, and whose body could never be found.

Anytime my eyes caught Maria's, I felt like running up to the little child, and divulging all the secrets I knew about her sister whilst encouraging her to take revenge but it was impossible for me to do. That feeling weighed me down so much, that was why it made me happy anytime the bell was rung, for closing hour and with so much relief and at the sound of Mike's truck at the gate, I'd pick up my schoolbag and lunch box and hurry out of the school into Mike's waiting arms. Oh, it was always so much relief.

When we got home, Mike would run a bath for me. He didn't want me to be late for my schedule at Dr Brown's. He always made sure I kept to time. So, I'd have my bath, eat lunch that mom already prepared in the morning before leaving for work, and then Mike would make sure I had siesta for thirty minutes at least. He was the one who drove me to Dr Brown's everyday, except on weekends when mom was available to drive me there herself.

Sometimes I would not eat the lunch packed by mom, because for some reason, i didn't like to have to microwave foods. I like freshly prepared foods. You could not say I was a picky eater. I wasn't. I still aren't. I ate a lot, and ate almost anything but that kind of dwindled when Cameron and the kids at school told me with mockery tones, that I was fat and clumsy.

So, on those days, Mike would buy me some pizza but I didn't like that either because it was junk and it'd make me more of a potato than I already was. I'd only take a bite. Mind you, I am not picky. I was just overwhelmed with many things and especially the mean remarks from Cameron and the other kids at school, so that's what I reacted to.

After a while, Mike did notice my reaction to the pizza he brought daily, so he stopped ordering pizza for me.

He made beef and broccoli plus cheese for me instead, sometimes it was just cabbage and steak plus a hot bowl of soup. I always ate it all, what could I do?- He was a good cook and very good at persuading me. Sometimes, he cooked in our kitchen but most times, he went to his kitchen to prepare it and then brought it to me on the dining table. That time, I must have had my bath twice. He was so nice. He was there for me during the times mom was not available (because she was at work).

He in fact bought me a little alarm clock. So, everyday after school, I'd bathe, eat, rest a bit and then nap- in that order- and then exactly after thirty or thirty five minutes of napping, the alarm clock would wake me up. Then, I'd get ready to drive in Mike's truck and in few minutes, we'd be off to Dr Brown's. By the time I was done with Dr, mom would be waiting outside with her car. She asked Mike not to bother picking me up since she returned from work around the time I finished my schedules.

One day as usual, mom came to pick me up from Dr Brown's on her way from work, It was 6:35pm, and around the twenty fifth of September, five days to the final training between the chosen best two students at Enchanting Promises High School, and ten days to the long awaited Annual Camping. The babies were not with her and I asked her why. She said, "Don't worry, they are safe, I already breastfed them this afternoon. I left them with a trusted someone"

I nodded. That would be Jack. Who else could it be? Except mom was already keeping female friends. That was unusual but as mom had begun doing the unusual things ever since we returned to the estate, it could be anything.

After mom had asked me how my meeting with my therapist was, and if I had had lunch, I told her about Mike.

"He prepares food for me, mom"

"I see. That's why you don't eat the lunch I pack for you. Maybe I'll have to tell him to teach me how to cook" she said with no emotion on her face.

"No mom, I didn't mean it that way. I..." I thought she was offended.

"It's okay, darling. I appreciate him giving me all the help he can, it's really kind of him to do but I don't want anyone preparing your food- i want to be responsible for that, okay?" She told me.

"Yes mom"

"Did you say broccoli? What does he cook for you?"

"Beef, broccoli and cheese. Cabbage and steak plus soup, sometimes rice and chicken casserole" I replied her

"Okay. Noted. I'll do that every morning before I go to work"

"But mom..." I wanted to tell her I didn't like to microwave foods

"What, darling? Is there any problem with that?"

"No mom" I shook my head. I didn't want her to worry too much about me. "You could just let Mike do it, mom. I mean, it seems to me you don't know I don't like it when my lunch is cold"

"What? Really? I put it in the microwave, how can it get cold in there?" She asked me, with shock written on her face. "Is that why you don't eat it at all?"

"Yes, mom. I'm sorry mom" I said. She sighed, rubbed my hair, and said nothing until we got home.

At home, she went straight to Mike's door and had a brief talk with him. I didn't know what she said but Mike stopped preparing my meals afterwards. I was upset but I didn't show it. Mike also stopped running a bath for me. I wasn't upset about that. Actually, I didn't like that he came to my bathroom and watched me slip my naked body into the tub, and I always didn't get out of the tub until he turned away. He didn't touch me or anything but I just felt like it was wrong for him to look at my body. I don't know, but it was just a feeling.

He obviously didn't think it wrong because he kept doing it--standing at my door and asking me to enter the tub. I'd shamefully take off my towel and hang it, then climb the tub and cover my whole body with water and flowers. Even then, he would not leave until after asking if I was okay for the umpteenth time. I wanted to tell him that I could bathe on my own and that I didn't like it when he came to my bathroom and watched me bathe, but it'd hurt him, (or so I thought), so I didn't say anything. I was uncomfortable in silence.

He was only being kind. I should not make him feel bad about it. Right? That was my thought

But he stopped doing that after all that talk mom had with him at his door. I don't know how mom found out because I never told her. Mom was highly observant. Till today, I still wonder how she found out.

I know she knew because that night, she called me and had a talk with me, "Don't let anyone touch you, okay? Don't let a stranger touch you at all, okay?" She said quietly. "Not even Cameron" but she did not exactly mention Mike's name

I nodded. Cameron would never touch me, I was sure of that.

"I know, I've told you this before, but I'll keep saying it, darling--there are some parts of your body that should not be touched, especially by a man. Do you know that?"

"Yes mom" i nodded. She sounded so critical

"Good. Mention those parts"

"My chest, my navel, my lips, my neck, my stomach, my arms, my bottom" I replied, touching those parts as i mentioned them.

"There's one more you omitted" she said, gazing into my face. I thought and thought but nothing else came to mind, then she pulled me closer and said, "Your vagina" I nodded.

"You know what a vagina means? Do you, darling?" She asked looking closely at my face. I nodded, touching it. Mom never used euphemistic terms to describe those parts. She mentioned them with their exact names.

"Yeah, that. Don't allow anyone to touch you there. If anyone tries to, please avoid that person, and tell me about it, Do you understand me?"

I nodded. She asked me to say yes. "Yes, mom. I understand" i said. She sighed and embraced me. She looked so worried and I felt so much concern for her. She was always more concerned for me than I was about myself