Resurgence

20. Fragments

“Break a vase, and the love that resembles the fragments is stronger than that love, which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole.” – Derek Walcott.

•••

“Yeah? Okay, got it…how bad is the damage? Shit! And everyone is there already? Who is the major casualty? News reporters are arriving? Just kill me already…I’d be there in a couple of minutes.” Tari chucked his phone into the small cubicle of space below his dashboard, like a hand grenade he feared would detonate soon—before he turned to face her. “You know you really don’t have to follow me, Lani. It must have been a technical problem that has nothing to do with you. It won’t be good for your agency, if your face is smeared all over the news.”

The guilt that had been weighing heavily on her since Ose had broken the news—choked her deep in her throat and she found herself coughing vehemently. It was beyond endearing that Tari thought her presence was misplaced and irrelevant to the subject matter, especially when she knew that she was the cause of the chain of terror that had been ignited. But she hadn’t come around to face the unnerving and beguiling feeling squarely. It was one thing, letting it form at the back of her mind and coming to grips with it fully. Not to talk of saying out loud.

Oh God, what have I done?

The air conditioning venting system of the car was fully functional and was at its highest modulation, yet there were beads of sweat trickling down her forehead and spewing out of her hair follicles, making her skin surface look like that of  a windscreen of a car in severe rainfall. The sweat was soaking up her gown gradually, invading its seams and garment like hordes of ants rallying around an anthill. She swabbed away at the sweat marring her forehead gently, in the hopes that Tari wouldn’t notice her perplexed state and go on to enquire why it was so.

“I just don’t know what could have gone wrong, do you have any idea?” His eyes were concentrated solely on the road, and his voice sounded firm but she could sense its slight unsteadiness. “This has never happened to me before on any project I helmed. It’s not like this type of thing happens to anyone at all in the first place. Oh, God I hope it’d be stated clearly by forensics—that the problem has nothing to do with me and everyone else from Sky, that worked on the house. It would go sideways, real quick.”

She knew he was putting on an act that was symbolic with the masculine gender, to appear stable and tough even when destroyed within. She knew that like her heart, his was also going through an uneven expansion fueled by fear, paranoia tendencies and the gravity of the tragedy at hand. She hadn’t even fully assimilated the consequences yet, and she was already disintegrating into a soulless, lifeless vessel of flesh.

Nothing helped to soothe the pain. When she tried to think about damage control, she’d risk drowning in a wave of tears at the thought that there was irreparable damage and when she tried to take her mind off it—it just didn’t work. It wasn’t a warzone in her head to conquer her fear. Fear had annihilated her defenses and had colonized her already.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Tari’s fists pounced the steering, with a ferocity that she thought could puncture its surface. For a split second, she was afraid he was going to lose control of the car and they were likely going to end up colliding with an incoming car, or ramming into a tree, or some other immobile structure made out of material that was indomitable, which would result in their death. And for another moment, she nursed the thought—realizing that it was the only escape route from their plague.

“How did this happen, how did this happen!” At this point, Tari wasn’t talking out loud and was only mumbling indiscreetly to himself. Despite his composed comport, his voice was hollow and weary and she knew it was only a matter of time before his fear got the better of him and possessed him totally. “This isn’t good, this isn’t good at all.”