The Gift

Chapter 1: The End

A full moon was up. The thick forest was peacefully quiet.

A curious bush duiker appeared from the thicket and stepped onto the tarmac. The animal was almost halfway across the road when a bright light illuminated its tawny red coat. It stopped and turned to face the source.

The light shifted from it as the black Honda CRV swerved past in a flash and crashed into a large oak tree ten feet away. The duiker disappeared back into the forest.

A peacock feather cuff bracelet settled on the roadside a couple of feet away from the wreck. Glass beads were strewn all over the mangled bonnet, the interior and across the streaks of blood. The lifeless body of the middle-aged man that lay across the steering wheel belonged to Jaime Mungai.

Jaime sat up from the bed panting and sweating. His eyes darted about the room, frantic. It was just a dream. His breathing eased and his body slumped back to bed. In an instant, he shut his weary eyes again, but only for a second.

Something was wrong.

He turned to his side and caught it. The alarm clock was beeping. The man closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened his eyes again the alarm clock was gone. In its place was an electrocardiograph machine which was beeping faster now. He reached out to touch it and noticed the catheter tube injected into his arm and the bandage on the other.

"H-Help! Help!"

Like an answer, a young nurse walked into the dark room.

"Where am I? What is happening to me?" he demanded.

"Sir, you were involved in a car accident. You are in the hosp—"

"Car accident?" He shot up. "What accident?"

She pushed him down. "You need to lie down."

"Neema! Where is my wife? Neeeema!"

The nurse, nonchalant,  grabbed the oxygen mask from the anesthesia machine.

"Now, everything will be okay," she smiled as she placed the mask on his face. Jaime tried to fight back but he could not move a muscle.

"Nooooo... Neeee.... Mmm—"

Jaime woke up from the nightmare panting. He felt his chest and arms. No bandages nor catheter tubes. Another nightmare. He wiped the beads of sweat off his unkempt hirsute face and turned to the night stand on his right. The alarm clock read two forty-five. He picked it up and studied it for a while before replacing it.

He got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. Fumbling his fingers, the man managed to find the light switch and walked over to the sink. He washed his face and picked up the towel from the rail. As he dried his face the man studied his reflection on the mirror.

He was six feet tall with a medium build though he had lost a lot of weight. His eyes were bloodshot. He ran his fingers over his beard stopping for a moment on the scar on his right cheek. What an ugly reminder? He could no longer recognize the reflection in the mirror. The handsome, vibrant face that once stared back was long gone.

After drying himself off, he dropped the towel by the sink and left the bathroom. Jaime flicked on another switch lighting up the rest of the apartment.

It was a simple studio apartment which had scanty but elegant furnishing. It was messy. Clothes lay scattered everywhere. Empty beer bottles littered the carpeted floor. A large abstract painting hang slanted across the wall.

He walked over to his bed and opened the mini fridge to reveal a dozen beer bottles and the brown envelope. The man picked one up and shut the fridge. He opened the beer bottle and took huge gulp before sitting on the bed. His eyes caught sight of the framed picture on the night stand. It was a picture of Neema Mungai. He picked it up.

She was lying across a hammock with a book lying on her chest. A yellow, floral dress covered her slender body. The peacock feather cuff bracelet circled her tiny wrist. A radiant smile covered her face. She looked very beautiful.

"I'm sorry too," he sighed.

His spirit was weak. The teary eyes landed on the balcony.

Moments passed. Jaime stood behind the metal railing of the balcony studying the street six floors below. There was no activity and apart from the occasional barks from dogs in the distance.

It was peacefully quiet.

His movements were mechanical as he stepped over the metal railing. He stood on the edge of the floor of the balcony holding himself onto the metal railing with his hands. His body shivered as he stared at the emptiness before him.

The shivering stopped. His hands let go of the railing.