Hard Placental Blood

THE HARD PLACENTAL BLOOD.

I walked with my great friend Sam along the dusty path. The atmosphere was cool and the sun had a brassy look. It had not reached the western horizon but you could tell that it was yearning to get there. Suddenly, she showed up in front of us. Sam ran ahead and I watched their hands close in a tight bear hug. You would think they had not seen each other for years but they had dwelt in the same homestead for as long as they could possibly remember.

I had always known and learnt to live with the fact that I didn’t have a sister but it never hit me as hard as when I watched Sam hug his sister Sally each time they met. She hugged me also but I didn’t feel it for I was wishing it was my own sister. I knew that there was no one to blame for it. Nature had decided that I was to have brothers only. Harry was the eldest and I the second-born. There are two other scallywags who can hunt like cats even at night and not feel afraid. I admire their guts.

At school was another hell. Whenever people talked about their sisters, I spoke in terms of brothers. Not that I did not like them. Actually the opposite is true. I would not want to miss their company. They are a crazy bunch especially when it comes to doing music and dancing. Only that I could not stop worrying about the fact that no girl was born in my family. I felt foolish at times. In any case, my parents were old enough to have closed the chapter of having another kid which would still not be guaranteed to be a girl. They never come in a sequence. Festus, one of my friends at school never got tired of driving the point home that I didn’t have a sister. He even carried the tease further by saying that I was supposed to be the girl in my family.

I did not mind this much because it was not new to me. Even at primary school, boys used to say I was beautiful instead of handsome. I also have dimples (just believe it). I once felt embarrassed when I went to church and one woman commented, “This is Mrs. Njaga’s daughter, look at those beautiful dimples.” I was too young then to say anything, but now, I guess I would say something so rude that she would not forget in a hurry.

Festus now took up the role of teasing me in high school. He also said that I had great beauty. I had one tease for him which most of the time but not always quieted him. They were nine in his family and I felt that this number was too large and told him that their father addressed them as “My fellow Kenyans,” a phrase used by the president during national rallies. The memories of not having a sister however haunted me on and on. I knew I was being foolish. There were other students who did not have sisters too but they didn’t care. As for me, it haunted me stronger and stronger and by the time I was in my last year in high school, I even dreamt it. I saw imaginary sisters in my dreams.

I always hoped and assumed that one day, Festus was going to get tired and stop teasing me but this day, he came from town into my room smiling widely, “Guess what Stan?”

“What?”

“I went to town and hailed one person, Hey Stan wait for me. I thought it was you.” He said.

“Who was he?” I asked amused.

“It was not a ‘he’ but a ‘she’”

I was not used to quarreling Festus but this time, I gave him a piece of my mind. I knew he was teasing me.

“I’m just telling you what I did. You should know how I felt like an idiot. She stopped and waited, but luck was on my side and she was kind like you. She even showed me their electronics shop and that was where I bought this Radio.” He showed it to me.

I had to believe him. After eyeing him for some time, I concluded that for once, he was too serious to be joking. I myself had stood in front of a mirror and knew how girlish I looked especially with the dimples. I had tried without success to put on a ‘man’s’ face. I apologized for quarreling him but as you can guess, that was the last time he ever mentioned about my beauty. I recall one day that I failed to go for my evening preps because of being pre-occupied with the fact that a girl was not born in my family. I love nature. At that time I kept wondering how I kept thinking about it. Now I know why. The thoughts were driving me to suicide and so I decided to buy a Radio to keep me busy instead of wasting my precious time thinking about the impossibles. I asked directions from Festus and he gave them accurately. Not only did I want to get rid of the disturbing thoughts but am also a lover of music and wouldn’t be surprised if I turn a musician in future. (I have a beautiful voice).

It was not difficult to trace the location of MACON ELECTRONICS SHOP. It was off river road and the letters were large and visible. It was a large beautiful shop stocked with all kinds of gadgets ranging from watches to generators. The floor was carpeted and the inner walls were made of thick glass that made one’s image be reflected umpteen times. The customers were many and the sellers not less than six. The atmosphere pulsed with efficiency and within no time, a lady was on my side.

“Welcome, can I help you please?”

I liked her politeness only that she kept staring at me awkwardly. Although I did not get time to scrutinize her, she was beautiful and strangely familiar. She was also witty. After I had caught her several times stealing glances at me, she took to looking at me from the mirrors. I caught her too but I was just about to do the same thing.

“Can I have this SONITEC?” I asked to cover up for embarrassment.

“Goes for seven hundred.” She said.

Anyone would have rushed out of the shop. I knew that the Radio went for a maximum of five hundred shillings and that was what I was ready to pay for it anyway. I however didn’t go out. I pretended to be astounded at stared at her. I got this chance to scrutinize her face. I wondered whether I had met her before. She looked so familiar. I had gotten this feeling that she wanted to raise a bargain to make me stay a bit longer.

“I got Five hundred.”

“Too little for it. It is original.” She said in a sweet voice.

“Well see you.” I pretended to leave. I wouldn’t. I was going to play a game on her. I had always done this.

“You see,” she said as I took my first pretended step. “What about talking to the owner?”
“The owner?” I asked.

“Yeah dad.”

“I don’t want to do that.” I objected.

“Come on, I know you will succeed.” Needless to say, she kept her eyes on my face. I felt so uncomfortable.

At this point, I must admit that it was stupid of me to accept her offer to go to the main house where they lived upstairs, because when her father showed up, I felt like evaporating into the thin air. I could tell by her reaction that she had also not expected him to be at home.

“Carol, who is this?” he asked. So she also had a beautiful name?

“A visitor who . . . . . . . . . .”

“You bring visitors to my house without my consent?”

“He had come to . . . . . . .”

“Shut up!” This was accompanied by a very nasty slap and the girl fell back on the sofa. “He had come to buy a Radio.” She had the guts to continue speaking?

“And what is he doing here? This is not the shop I guess.” He stared around pretending to confirm that this was really not the shop. I did not have any word to say. If I had gotten the chance, I would have bolted downstairs without the radio.

“Go get him the radio.” He told her.

She went out and the terror within me boiled. I however remained calm and composed. I was left with a mad father pacing up and down near the door such that I could not run away even if I wanted to. I think he was deciding what to do with me. I learnt that soon. To my relief, Carol brought a neat package. I gave her the money. I extended my hand to the father in bid to say goodbye. He ignored the hand and I got a hand blow as I left instead of the handshake. The blow escorted me out and caused me to cough several times as I took the stairs at a high speed downwards and out of the building. I get nightmares when I remember that moment.

Festus was stiff with laughter when I narrated the episode to him especially at the point where I was hit. In addition to that, the girl had packed me conductor wires, bolts and screws instead of the radio. I swore to go back the following weekend but try as much as possible to avoid the father. He had stared me on the face while I had been there. It was strange. He would stare at me and the pace as if he was trying to remember where he had seen me before. I can swear I hadn’t seen him before.

As I walked to the shop, I eyed the receipt which simply read, “Goods once sold are not re-accepted.” I knew that the chances of acquiring the radio were low if not nil. I didn’t go in. I passed by and saw her standing by the counter on the outer side idly. It seemed that this day, there were no enough customers to keep her busy. She seemed as if she was counting the number of the people that passed by. I made sign with my hand and she followed me on. I never expected her to come but I wasn’t ready for another blow. My mother is very fond of me.

I knew you would come.” She said.

“Why?”

“Because of what I packed you. Am sorry.”

“You did it deliberately?”

“Yeah.”

“With what motive?”

“I simply wanted you to come back.” She was now laughing.

I had all the reasons to be angry with her but I wasn’t. The entire lecture that I had prepared for a whole week died in my throat. I felt acute at ease with her. She smiled like an angel and those dimples . . . . . . .they can make one go crazy. She was dressed in a jeans hipster and a light full sleeve white blouse. She was approximately my age because as I stood next to her, I realized that I was probably not an inch taller than her. Her painted toe-nails looked attractive in the open low heeled shoes. Her figure was admirable too.

“I earned another slap that day because I giggled when he hit you.” She said.

“Your father is a hard one.”

“Yeah my father.” The words came sarcastically out of her mouth.

“What did you say that for?”

“I mean, he is strict but you should see my mother, she whips me like a horse.”

I felt sorry for her and I knew she was going to cry. She did.

“I would do the same if I found a stranger in my house seated with my beautiful daughter like you.” I knew I had started scoring on her side. I do not waste such beautiful chances when left alone with girls. We went back to the shop and she gave me a neat package and this time of the radio.
I found my money in the package when I went back to school and could only remember the story of Joseph in the Bible. I knew then that the girl seriously wanted me back and even if   she hadn’t I would still have gone back. (am stubborn). I am not very honest especially with money but I decided to take it back to her the following weekend. How else was I going to appear before her if I did not carry the money? The moment I stepped inside the shop, she ran and hugged me. I only hoped that she was not mad enough to do that in presence of her dreaded father.

That day, she went out with me and I spent the rest of the day knowing her well.

“Don’t you have brothers and sisters?” I asked.

“I have   they are younger than me.”

“I do not see them at the Shop.”

“They stay at our real home in Westland.”

“And you?”

“I stay at the shop and help during the weekends.”

“You like the work?”

That question was as if I had put something hot in her lap. I watched eyes move to the ground. Her face crossed with sorrow. Then, she feigned a smile, “I guess I do.” I could tell that she had lied. It was paradise being with her. I felt great comfort and for some time, I even forgot that I was at school. Our friendship grew as I continued seeing her weekend after weekend. . . . and we became really close. Festus turned to calling her my girlfriend. I did not mind it but I felt that she was more than that. I loved her. I had many other girlfriends but Carol was altogether different. She was not the type that I would be quick to ask to bed. I had great respect for her.

I told my brother Harry about her when I went home for the holidays. I soon missed her and the only way was to make a pretended visit to my maternal aunt who lived in Nairobi. I ok went there but not before I had seen carol. She was not in the best of her moods when I saw her. She cried all along and I had to hold her in my arms to comfort her.

“Stan,” she sobbed.

“Tell me anything Carol, I’m ready to help you. I would stand on the way of a tractor without brakes for you.” (It was true).

“I do not have a family.” She said.

“You have a home Carol, whether your parents are hostile or not. Home is the best remember.”
“You do not understand.”

“What don’t I understand dear?”

“Some days ago my mother told me on my face that I was not her child.” She was now lying on my lap.

“May be you made her so angry that she said such thing it can’t be true you know.” I said.
“It is true, my father confirmed it to me later.”

Her wrenching sobs created a deep impression within me. I wondered why God would let such an angel to suffer so. I had no words to comfort her but I now understood why she was kept at the shop while the others were in Westland. Why her father treated her like a common worker and why her mother gave her the horse-whippings as she called them.

At aunt Lucia’s place, I learnt something that almost caused my blood to curdle in the week that I stayed there. I sat for a whole hour listening to her telling me of things which happened when I was completely helpless to do anything except to lie and cry; at birth.

“Stan, you were not born alone.” I did not ask any question. I only listened till she finished. “When you were born, we thought it was finished but after you came a girl.” At this point I stood on my feet. “Yes, a girl was born together with you. You were born at night and the nurses were sleepy and lazy. They left you, your twin sister and your mother who was still weak alone. In the morning, the girl had disappeared without trace to this day.”

“Why hasn’t mother told me about this?” I asked enraged.

“Don’t quarrel her. She is worried to this day and I only felt that you are now mature enough to take it. Do not prove me wrong.” She said.

That night, I got little sleep if not none at all. The thought of having a sister – a twin sister rang madly in my cranium and by morning, I had to take some pain killers and laxatives to induce sleep. Two days later on my way home, I went to see my girlfriend Carol. I just went for a formality. I had lost taste for her. Now that I knew that I had a sister, Carol was just like any other lady in Nairobi. The craving inside me was for a sister a not a girlfriend. I had enough of those. It didn’t even occur to me that she had become a great friend. I just went to say goodbye to her and then head home and let Mom tell the story.

I spoke to her at the shop. I pretended to be bargaining. I got the chance to look at her and again saw that familiar thing in her which I could not understand what it was. I looked at the mirror and she realized that I had suddenly stopped. I thought I had seen a ghost – my ghost. Then, we both smiled at the stupidity of admiring ourselves in the mirror. It was her turn to notice her ghost. She looked at me. I do not cry all that easily but I felt hot tears flowing down my face. I dried myself quickly.

“What is wrong Stan?” she asked.

“You said you do not have a family?”

“Yeah but don’t let that worry you.”

I was glad she thought I pitied her. I wondered what kept the bright angel from noticing the resemblance that the images ahead of us exemplified. I decided not to tell her. I didn’t want to start clutching at straws this early. She saw me off to the bus station and I went home accompanied by a hug and escorted by waves of hands that I could simply not get my eyes off, till the bus was hidden by the tall sky scrapers in the city.

I kept swearing in the bus and the other passengers thought that their journey had been graced by a mad man. Words like “Goddammit”, and some other rude ones spilled out of my mouth almost unconsciously. My mind was wandering far and wide and the conductor had to remind me several times that I had not paid my bus fare. I knew he would not remind me again and I did not wait to find out what would happen. I remembered Festus. So that was why he had mistaken her for me? By the time the bus stopped and I headed home, I had made enough conclusions and was also ready to blast my parents with questions especially why they had kept the story away from us. Harry met me first, “Man, you look like you have just been released from prison what is the problem?”

“Actually I have.” I said after thinking for a while.

“You have what?”

“Been set from prison.”

What?”

“Do not take literally. Harry, has Mom or dad ever told you that we had a sister?”

“No why?”

“I was born with a twin sister but she disappeared without a trace the same night.”
He started pacing. I had never seen him do that before and it was then that I realized that maybe Harry’s conscience was also announcing the presence and deficiency of a sister.

“Who told you this?

Aunt Lucia. And you know what?”

“What?”

“Through means of my own, I have found her.”

He held me by the collar. “Where? That fast?”

“Relax man, you remember Carol?”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah my girlfriend,” I said, “That is my twin sister.”

“Does she know that?”

“No she doesn’t.”

“And how did you know?”

“Wait and see. Let’s go and talk to Mom and dad but do not say that I have found her. We do not want to cross the bridge before we come to it.”

My parents especially Mom was very glad to see me back. She received me in a way that made me forget all that I had planned to say against her. We chatted happily as I told them about aunt Lucia and my cousins. It is strange how things sometimes happen spontaneously and co-incidentally. I know one would expect that I went to ask my parents about my twin sister but I didn’t. The room felt quiet. I think it was the silence and the comfort it brought that triggered my parents’ courage. They made sure that the other two scallywags were not around and as usual, they had gone hunting. You should see the places they go. They would make your Goosebumps to appear.

I watched the lines of my mother and I could see the bitterness in her. I could almost predict what was coming next. My father remained calm but I guess they had been talking about their lost daughter before Harry and I appeared. It was as if they were afraid of us. I saw Mom nod at dad as if gesturing him to continue. I was glad that she was not the one who was going to strain a tonsil and let us into the scary secret which was no longer a secret but still scary. It was dad who said it and I was happy because I knew if Mom broke the news, they would break her as well.

“Harry, Stan, I know that you are now mature enough to listen to some things that parents normally do not say to young ones.” I checked myself. He reminded me that I had just turned eighteen. “You have to forgive us for keeping it away from you but it was necessary . . . .” and he went ahead to tell the story about the disappearance of their only daughter.

Harry and I remained calm. It did not occur to me that Mom felt so bad about it until she started sobbing. I felt sorry for her. “She was beautiful like you Stan.”

So even my parents thought I looked girlish? I didn’t mind it then because I knew I resembled an angel. No wonder boys said I was beautiful if at all I resembled Carol.

“Aren’t you surprised to hear that?” dad asked.

“No” I said, Harry said nothing. I had told him to try and say as little as possible. Even Mom stopped.
“Why aren’t you surprised?” she asked.

“Because I know I had a sister.”

“Who told you?” they asked in unison.

“Aunt Lucia, two days ago.”

Three days later, I told dad in a way that was least suspicious that I suspected who my sister was. As I expected, they thought it was some sort of excitement and they didn’t ask muck about it. I did not tell them who she was or where she was. Holidays ended. Dad said that I was just clutching at straws, Mom thought and openly said that it was an impossibility to accurately trace her. Harry said that I was just excited about my girlfriend. They did not know hoe she resembled me because even Mom hadn’t seen enough of her before she had disappeared and by the time I went back to school, the idea had altogether been forgotten. I wasn’t going to dump it.

I saw Carol more often than before. We went for outings together on weekends and she kept saying that she officially wanted to be my girlfriend but I refused without giving any reasons. One day, I could clearly see the sorrow in her beautiful eyes. Each time I held her, I did it from the bottom of my heart because I knew I was holding my twin sister. I think this is what the Bible would call holding her in truth and in spirit.

“Stan,” she called, “I love you.”

“I love you too Carol, more that you know.”

“No you don’t.” I was taken aback.

“I do.” I said in defense.

“Why then don’t you want to be my boyfriend . . . or are you seeing someone else? Just tell me Stan.”

“You are like a sister to me Carol.” I chose my words very carefully. I said “Like”.

“I know but we are from different parents.”

I didn’t want to defend myself. She had already been denounced by her parents and it was not healthy of me to reject her too. I knew she would end up crying and I didn’t want to keep hurting her feelings. She was too precious to do that. Instead, I took her hand and we walked to a nearby shop. I wanted to find a mirror and make the little dumb understand my point. We stood in front of the mirror. I held her waist and stood behind her and since she was exactly my size, I peeped at the side of her shoulder. She smiled. She loved it.

“Carol,” I called in a serious tone that caused her to whirl around and face me.

“You are my sister.” Tears dropped from my eyes.

“What do you mean. I do not understand you.”

“You are my biological sister – actually my twin sister.”

“How?” she asked.

“Turn round and look at the mirror and you’ll discover my point.”

She turned. I watched her face. She scrutinized the reflections as if she was looking into strangers. I tried my best not to smile. I did not want to alter the similarity. It hit her hard. I saw her mouth open. I let her discover for herself. I still held her and she felt rigid like a statue. In a soft   voice, almost a whisper, I drove the rest of the point home.

“Carol, you were born with me at the middle of the night. I guess it was cool, dark, silent and beautiful like a damp moonless night. Our mother was still weak and it was not till morning that it was discovered that you were missing (I cried). They tried in vain to look for you. Eighteen years later, our parents are still bitter at the loss of you. Don’t you see how we resemble each other sister?”

I felt her muscles relax as she fainted and she took such a long time to come round. She went home later. I warned her not to tell her parents what had happened for I had all the reasons to believe that the father was no fool and he must have realized the resemblance during the radio incident. Although she did not want to go, I convinced her enough.

That term looked like years although it was the third term and so practically the shortest. I had arranged it well. She brought her luggage to school little by little. This was in preparation for the D-day when she would forever part with her tormentor thief-parents. She was dying to see her real parents and brothers – and her real home. She kept asking whether they were kind and whether they would accept her. I told her that they were the kindest people on earth. She was also interested in the scallywags. She admired their courage. I told her they would take her hunting and she almost rushed there instantly.

On the day the school closed, she came to school. Like me, she had sat for her final exam in high school. She had also seen what had been her hell-home for the last time. I called my father on the phone.

“Dad I’ll be coming home today. Prepare to receive a visitor.”

“A visitor? Who? He had forgotten about my sister.

“Your daughter – my twin sister.” I said and hung up.

I did not want to go home during the day. I wanted it to be done in style. I chose the time for departure wisely. Carol had become so impatient that she thought we would never leave for home. I had known that although they didn’t believe it to the full, they would call friends and neighbors to witness. They waited for the whole day. Night came and we hadn’t showed up. People thought I had played the fool and went home but I wanted it to be   nuclear family event for I knew that people would scare Carol and I didn’t want a crowd of neighbors at home. Even the two scallywags knew about a sister and were equally surprised but am sure they cared little.

They all sat at the table room, a nuclear family minus Carol and I. Even Harry had decided to stay at home. He wondered why I was playing a game with their precious minds. The clock struck nine and they were completely disappointed that I could do such a thing.

She started crying the moment we went through the gate. “I Love my home Stan I do.” She cried.
I didn’t knock at the front door. Not that I usually did but just pushed open the door as usual. We entered simultaneously. Everybody stood up but remained stationary. I guess they just realized how much she resembled me. She moved forward first. Mom and dad met her in a tight embrace. Alex and Dan joined in. These two are younger than me but I cannot remember the last time I saw any of the shed a tear. They didn’t cry even then. Harry and I just watched. The parents could simply not let her go. Though they were not sure that she was the one, there was that pull that said that she had to be the one. After they had settled, she stared at me and then at Harry as if she asked, “And who is this?”

“Your elder brother Carol, he is Harry.” I said. It was then that they discovered her name. She hugged Harry the longest.

Though we were hungry, she hardly ate. She was too excited of getting home for the first time since birth. I was actually the only person who finished my ration of food. All the others remained almost to their carrying capacity.

Many things happened afterwards. The legal disputes had to be settled. After the paternity, maternity, DNA and goodness knows whatever other tests were carried out, there was the court. She spat at them as the two thief parents went to jail for life. Even the thief father agreed that she was like me in every aspect. I think he meant rudeness.

Out in the fields I run with her at my heels. The atmosphere is cool and humid. I dodge at the trees. She catches up and dives for me as if in a rugby pitch. We both roll on the soft grass. I then race at her. Father love to watch us play. Mother thinks it’s lovely. Harry thinks its crazy but he understands. They know that it is in sharing of love that had started at conception, continued through gestation but separated soon after birth by crime.

It was trying to catch up with love that was denied for eighteen years. Love generated by the hard placental blood, that even time could not break. Ignorance could also nor break the rock-solid blood. I hadn’t known that I had a sister but my conscience knew and it kept haunting me through my entire life till I met her. I wonder what Festus will say when he gets to know of this. One I will confirm to him that I have a sister but that will prove that I really look girlish.

She walks with me laughing excitedly. How we like to walk around the paddocks and the green grass especially in the morning and late evening. I meet my great friend Sam. I don’t mind him now. Carol either hold my hand or my waist whenever we walk together. She hasn’t forgotten that at some point she was really my girlfriend (she told father the story). I’m sure Sam feels envious but he understands that it the love generated by THE HARD PLACENTAL BLOOD.

Dedicated to my beloved brothers, Harry, Dan and Alex.

I treasure the brotherhood we share.