An Immortal's Favour

Jack- Secrets

*

I pushed the receiver of my telephone down and ran a hand over my head. There I was, knee-deep in a pit of trouble, when all I wanted was to have some peace of mind and finish my trip with Gale. The walls of my bedroom seemed to close in on me, and I was sure I'd go mad with uncertainty. No matter how I looked at the situation, no solution seemed keen on presenting itself. All I had was a string of disconnected clues.

Balancing my elbows against my desk, I covered my face with both hands and released a shuddering breath. I lifted up the paper I'd been scribbling on a few hours earlier, going over the writing one more time as if I'd find the answer hidden between the lines.

"Father, where are you, and what on earth is going on?" I groaned wearily and let my head fall on top of the desk, muscles relaxing as fatigue finally took its toll.

A low grumble woke me up later, towards the end of the afternoon. Dried saliva trailed a path from one corner of my lips to my chin, and exhaustion hadn't left me yet. Still, I pushed myself up and started towards the right wing of the house. I'd already rolled my sleeves up, ready for some early evening cooking.

The kitchen was spotless. Wooden counter tops gleamed as though they were brand new, and not a speck of dust dirtied the tiled floor. For once, I didn't know what to make; I had no plan of any sort. 

On the wall opposite to me, just past the stoves, was the door to the pantry, which someone had left slightly open. In the small room, shelves were lined with all kinds of food. A huge bag of rice had been propped up in one corner. Everything- the jars of spicy pastes, the yams, the cured meats, everything -had either been bought or prepared by Mother herself. Unsurprisingly, she even insisted on doing most of the cooking in the house herself. On one of the shelves, small jars of different pastes caught my eye. But, as I reached out for one of them, I stopped. In Mother's loopy writing, scrawled on paper taped on the wall behind the jars, were the words 'DO NOT TOUCH'.

After rummaging around, and deciding, for once, that I didn't give a damn about cooking, I fixed myself a sandwich using some leftovers.

Sure, the kitchen was clean. But without Mother hovering over the stove, without Father by her side chopping away at something, too, it was also cold. Too cold. And it'd been that way for as long as I could remember.

Footsteps made their way over, and Mother bustled into the kitchen with a maid behind her. The two women dropped large, paper bags speckled with rain on top of the kitchen island.

"What have you got there, dear?" Mother peered at my dismal-looking sandwich. "Don't tell me that's your dinner. Honestly, did that cooking school teach you nothing? Well, go on upstairs and change into something more appropriate. When you come back, we'll make some real food together."

Since it was so late, I figured it'd be best to just throw on some old pyjamas. When I came back, most of the paper bags were gone, and Mother was already at the stove. She must've been in a hurry; the robe over the nightgown she'd changed into hung over her crookedly, unfastened.

"What do you want me to do?" I rolled up both sleeves and started washing my hands at the sink.

"Skin the gogofruit," she instructed, pointing her wooden spoon at the paper bag on the counter top next to her.

Pulling all of the fruit from the bag, I set to work right away. I pinched a waxy, purple scale on one of the gogofruits and tugged it downwards, revealing the dark orange flesh beneath.

"There's a quicker way, you know."

"No, I don't."

"What?"

"I don't...What's the quicker method?" Switching off the stove, Mother turned away from the crackling meat resting in her pan and took one of the fruits, weighing it in her hand.

"You see these gaps, between the scales?" She ran her fingers along them, down the fruit, and held it out for me to see. "Just cut down the middle here with a knife...Could you pass me one, actually? Thank you. Then push the knife under the skin like so to loosen a bit of it." Mother set down the knife, and with two fingers, she took one corner of the skin and peeled the whole thing off, in one go, in under three seconds.

A smile settled over my face, though it didn't reach my eyes. "They didn't teach us that at the college."

"Ah, but cooking is about creativity."

An hour and a half later, as the two of us wiped at our faces with napkins, Mother asked, "How did you spend your day while I was at work?"

"I've contacted Edward Muller, Gale's friend. He's expecting Father, should he decide to go to his place."

"And have you thought over what you'll do about your trip with Immortal Gale?"

"I have. With the way things are, the only thing to do is to go over to Equino as planned and hope that Father will be prepared to explain himself. I'll call Gale about it in the morning."

"When do you plan to leave?"

"Tomorrow."

Helping herself to more of the pork and gogofruit stew from the pot, Mother sighed. "If only my trip had half the excitement of yours."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"I'm visiting a few coastal towns in the south of the country soon to work through some negotiations. You know how they're like over there with their stubborn, can-do attitude. But I think I'll win them over this time."

Shaking my head, I laughed. "Good luck with that."

When Mother had gone to bed at last, I went to my own room, rubbing my eyes tiredly. I opened the door, only to stumble over a piece of folded, yellow card. I picked it up, closed the door behind me, and came over to my bedside desk.

A click followed as I switched on the lamp and opened up the cards. Four telegrams, a couple of which were crumpled at the edges, fluttered out.

The first was from Akosua, a thank you for the birthday gift I'd sent her. Two were from Kwame and Yafeu. They were short. No doubt, the next few would be even shorter. Guess they were still mad at me. It didn't help that I continued to walk over eggshells to even keep in contact with these lot. But, when there was a chance of upsetting Mother, too, the risk was worth it. Of course, I had only myself to blame; she still remained clueless with regards to the true extent of the falling out, and I had yet to tell her I'd overheard everything between her and...

Father wouldn't have known, either, if I'd kept my mouth shut. But it was more difficult to keep things under wraps with him prodding at me.

Taking hold of the last telegram, I pushed all thoughts of my parents from my mind. So Johnson planned on paying me a visit- according to what he'd sent. That was something to look forward to, at least. It was getting lonely in the house.

*

Discussion: Secrets, secrets, secrets! What is Jacob hiding?

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