To Love And Be Loved

Chapter 7

The tombstone stood silent and unmoving amidst a mass of other tombstones. The air was cool and it smelt of fresh earth.

Victor thought it was strange, the rich smell of fresh, wet earth in the place where the dead were interred. The sun peeked from behind white clouds, staining them bronze.

It was deathly quiet in the cemetery. Rows and rows of tombstones peeked up from the ground around him. Some were grey with age and others were as white as snow. Here and there, fresh mounds of red earth coloured the ground; new homes for the newly dead.

How could there be so much peace during death, Victor thought. In a world of tragedy, misfortune, deceit and lost dreams. Was death a befitting ending? But then no one had ever come back from the dead to tell what was beyond. Whether it was heaven and hell, a dark infinite silence or some other afterlife. Perhaps life was really just vanity.

Victor knelt before the tombstone in front of him. Will's tombstone. The wine bottle in his hands was steaming cold. He set it down on the green grass. It was what Will had drunk when they were recording Black Division's first song. Victor didn't know why he bought the wine that morning. He just felt like he needed to. It was Will's birthday.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Vanity upon vanity.

He sat down on the green grass still wet from the morning dew. This was the second year he was coming here and nothing had changed.
He longed to see Will's mischievous smile and ruffle his shaggy hair. He longed to hear his random philosophical truths and listen to him play the piano.

He leaned forward and touched the tombstone. It was rough and cold. He ran his fingers against the inscription. He could see the words even when he closed his eyes.

William Olusegun
Loving Son and Brother
September 1, 1998 - September 14, 2016

Will had taken a part of him when he died. Victor woke up everyday with a yawning chasm. He longed for that moment between sleep and wakefulness when he would think that Will was still alive, before the painful clarity set in.

He still remembered when he first met Will...

He was 14. He had just relocated to Lagos with his father after the death of his mother. He had been a bitter young boy then and had always fought with his father.

On the first day of his new school, he was cornered by bullies. He left the encounter with a black eye and some very angry parents. He was warned by the principal never to fight in school and to report any case of bullying.

He was walking out of the principal's office when he heard the music. It was high, haunting and sweet. The music seemed to be coming from a door down the hallway, the music class. He crossed the hallway and put his hand gently to the door, it swung open under his touch.

A boy sat in the middle of the room playing a piano. Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight shining on the boy. He had a thick mass of hair. His eyes were closed and his fingers were dancing on the keys. There was a look on his face that Victor could only describe as pure bliss. It looked almost magical. He had never heard the piano played so beautifully.

The boy opened his eyes and their eyes met. His gaze was piercing, almost like he could see into his soul.

"Come in," said the boy.