Chapter Thirteen

I told him about my own tragic experience of the war—the death of my mum's best friend's daughter, Jenny, and how my mother reacted to it. The death of my cousin after his enlistment. The tragic story of how I was being raped; and finally, my mum's death. He felt bitter about it and cleaned the tears rolling down his cheeks with his hand. My stomach started cramping, giving a signal that I was very hungry. I held my stomach with my left hand.

"What is wrong?" Kelvin observed.

"I am hungry," I said, squeezing my face.

"You haven't eaten, or is it the sign of pregnancy?" he inquired, staring at my face.

"Oh…really?" I became surprised. "It hasn't reached a month yet," I said.

"Pregnancy can be very funny; sometimes you notice the signal after five days," he said.

"No… I am very sure that this isn't pregnancy…it is hunger," I spoke out, releasing my hand from my stomach.

"Let's go and eat, or is there no food?" he said, standing from the chair.

I smiled at him and then stood up, "I'm so sorry. I was very weak this morning. That's why I couldn't cook anything."

"Oh…no problem… I can cook….my mum taught me very well… I am the chef in my family," he said, smiling.

I chuckled and then walked out of the living room. "Don't worry, I would cook… go and have your bath in the bathroom.

"Are you sure you can cook with your condition?" he asked.

"Why not?" I smiled.

"Alright then, where is the bathroom?" he inquired.

I directed him where the bathroom was located with my hands.

"Which clothes would I be wearing here?" he asked.

"My brothers left a lot of clothes in their room; you can check for your size," I responded, trying not to lose my voice, "come... follow me... Let me show you their room.

I walked to my siblings' room and showed him their different wardrobes. After that, I left the room, and then two minutes later, he came out of the room. I was in the kitchen thinking of what he would like to eat.

"Brinny, where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen thinking about the meal you would love eating." I replied back to him.

"During war? Cook anything…I would eat it as far as you are eating it."

"Alright… I think potatoes and fish would do, right?" I asked, waiting for his response.

"Yeah…I am off to the bathroom," he said.

I grabbed the store key from the nail near the sink to open the store door behind the kitchen. When I opened it, the potatoes were much, the freezer light shimmered into my eyes. I went and picked up the potatoes. Suddenly, I became confused about the number of potatoes to pick. If it had been me, I would have picked two or three, but Kenny's joining now has me confused. I didn't know how big his stomach was. I didn't know if he would have the appetite to eat more than one potato. I would have asked him, but he was having his bath. After so much contemplation, I picked up six.

I would eat two while he eats the remaining four potatoes, I considered within myself.

I got six potatoes from the store, put them on a tray, and grabbed a knife to peel them. I crouched and then started peeling out the back of the potato. As I continued peeling it, I reflected back to those days where my mum peeled it and hummed a song along with it. Whenever I asked her why she hummed a song, she said it was to make the peeling faster. Immediately, I began humming a song and nodding rhythmically to the lyrics of the songs going on in my head. I observed that I had a good vibrato, just like the artistes who sang the song. Perhaps if I had sung it in a more audible and clearer way, I would have lost the vibrato. I continued singing it while enjoying the melody of the song that I didn't know that I had peeled the backs of four potatoes.

I was happy, just like I was in the morning. I heard a footstep walking. I knew it was Kenny who just passed. I stopped humming and continued washing the potatoes.

"Do you have cotton wool and methylated spirit, so I can clean this wound?" I heard Kenny's voice just at my back.

"Yeah, what do you need that for?" I asked.

"I need to clean the wound that I have here on my cheeks," I said.

"Oh, I thought it was a scar," I said, standing up to see it.

"No, it isn't a scar; I was so lucky that it wasn't as deep as I thought," he said.

"Aww… let me get the wool and methylated spirit, so I can help you clean it," I said, almost rushing out but then I remembered something.

"Don't you think going to the hospital is better?" I asked.

"So those creatures would get hold of me and torture me?" he said.

"Oh, no," I exclaimed, as I quickly ran out.

Three minutes after, I returned with cotton wool and methylated spirit and called him to the passage to dress the wound.

"Are you a nurse?" he said, smiling at me.

"That's my dream, but the war has shattered it," I spoke out emotionally.

His mood changed to a tender one.

"But there is still hope; the war wouldn't last for a long time," Kenny said as he sat down on the floor.

I tore a small part of the cotton wool and dipped it inside the methylated spirit, then rubbed it on the injured area. He crooned a little and then hardened his body to suppress the pain he was going through. After two or three minutes, I was satisfied with the dressing and asked if I should cover it with a bandage.

"No… it would hurt me when you removed it again to dress it up," responded Kenny.

"To avoid it from being infected," I persuaded.

"Alright then, go ahead and do it, my nurse,"

I chuckled a little as I quickly placed a pool of cotton wool on the wound and covered it up with a bandage. I went back to my parents' room and dropped the cotton wool, methylated spirit, and bandage back where it was. He thanked me, and I washed my hands in the kitchen sink. I then went back to continue the slicing of the potatoes.

"Let me help you with the cooking," replied Kenny, washing his hands under the tap.

"Since you are the chef in your family, go to the store; there is a freezer there; open it and take the fish there."

"Here," he replied, pointing his first left finger to the store.

"Yeah, just hold the handle down, and it would open up," I said, smiling.

"Am I a kid?" he said, squinting his eyes and smiling, before opening the door and closing it from behind.

I smiled as I was done slicing the potatoes into small pieces. He then came outside, holding two salmon fish in his hand. I stood up from the stool with the knife and then went forward to the kitchen sink to wash it. I was done with that immediately, so I handed it over to him. He took the knife and smiled.

"Just watch how I cut them," he said, smiling.

"I'll transfer this to the electric cooker and come back to check it," I said, moving the potatoes to a basin.

"Don't put anything in just yet; I would do that," he said, washing the fish.

"Ohh… What do you think I wanted to put now that there isn't salt again? The last we had finished when our city got encircled. And my mother risked her life to check the city, but there wasn't any shop that had it."

"Really? We have a bag of salt in my house; had I known, I would have brought some here," he said, while I dropped the food on the cooker.

"No worries, I would do the cooking; just go and have a rest," he retorted.

"You might poison me," I said with a chuckling tone.

"We'll die together then, sharing the same plate," he laughed after finishing slicing the fish.

One hour and thirty minutes later, the food was done; it was actually a chopped potato porridge. He dished out the food into a single bowl, dropped it on the tray, and told me to bring the water into the living room. I tottered and trailed him behind, holding the jug. Finally, we settled down. I was shy. This was the first time that I had to share a meal directly from a plate with someone. I dip my fork with a fidgeting hand, my eyes staring at him surreptitiously before eating it. Silence ensued as we ate. I observed that he was very hungry as he devoured the food. The way he ate rapidly made me smile. I wanted to talk, but I restrained myself. I never wanted to intimidate him; after all, he made me smile with his hurry in devouring the food.

After eating, he drank water, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

"Kenny, are you very hungry?" I asked.

"I haven't eaten for two days; it was only the water in a water bottle that I drank," retorted Kenny. "I was never hungry... I lacked the appetite to eat. It was disgusting to eat beside an injured corpse. No, I don't do that."

His emotions were already getting the better of him. I know that if I don't pamper his emotions right now, he might get into another cry and perhaps decide to go out and fight.

"Alright then, I would love for you to assist me in washing the plates," I said, changing the topic immediately.

"Let me rest a little," he said, closing his eyes again.

"I have rested for a long period of time now; you can take a nap. I would wash everything."

I took the plate and was about to leave the living room when I felt a touch on my shoulder. I looked back, and it was Kenny. I was surprised at his sudden presence.

"What happened? Why aren't you taking a rest?" I asked, peering at his face.

"Nothing exactly; I wanted to help in washing the plate," replied Kenny, feeling too dizzy.

"I can see it in your eyes; you feel too dizzy; go and have a rest. Don't worry about the washing. I would take care of that. This is the time to pay you for all that you've done to me. The kindness, care, and calm posture you displayed whenever I made you angry is really enthralling. This is just the perfect time to replicate back all that you've done to me."

He smiled and tried hugging me, but the tray I held in my hands restrained him from doing so. He was humbled by my words. I saw it in his face—the smile and his wistful eyes that dilated.

"Thank you; let me go and have a rest... It is five. I might not wake up till the next morning." I watched him walk down to the couch and lie down without offering a word again.