PORTAL: Stuck in the Fabric of Time

The Pause

Tuesday, December 31

Tolu Alade would rather be anywhere but here, especially at this hour. On any other day he should be asleep in bed, but he figured because it was the last day of the year his parents considered it best to spend the night praying in church. But no one ever gave him a choice because there really was none, now was there?

“We are going to praaaaay,” Pastor Oladele’s voice rang, from the stage below. “That every sorrow that followed you throughout 2019 will end with this year.”

All around Tolu, the men and women on the gallery and across the large auditorium clasped their hands in prayer, muttering their affirmation. Everyone was decked in jackets, not because of the cold but rather to ward off mosquito bites. He couldn’t recognise most of them, as many were visitors from the neighbourhood who would probably not return to church until Easter.

Such was the norm every year at the December 31st Cross-Over Service.

He tried to pay attention, but some boys playing a game on a phone a few rows away caught his eye. Tolu smirked. That’s what he’d rather have been doing if Dad hadn’t seized his phone before they entered the church. To think that somebody’s parents had no issues with that.

“Some of you don’t know the importance of that prayer,” the pastor continued. “When the Israelites were escaping from Egypt the Lord said, ‘These Egyptians you see today, you shall see them no more!’”

“Amen!” the church chorused.

“There are some things you have to drop. Some things to let go…”

Tolu thought about what he was looking forward to in the coming year. There weren’t that many great movies coming out, except maybe WW84 and Black Widow. This time last year, his mind had been taken with the possibilities of Avengers: Endgame and how its story would turn out. And while it beat his expectations, he could not think of any other movie that held his fancy in the coming year. So beyond movies, what else did he look forward to?

Ok, by this time next year he should be out of secondary school. He couldn’t imagine life outside of the six-year school bubble, but whatever lay beyond had to be better. But what did lie ahead? Exams? Maybe University? Adulthood … ugh. As far as he was concerned it could all stay in the arbitrary future where it always did.

He didn’t even know what he wanted to be in future? A pilot, a veterinary doctor, a teacher (God forbid, he thought)? He hadn’t the foggiest, and he chose not to think about it much.

He checked his watch. 11:55pm. In 5 minutes the year when he would have to face all these decisions sped ever closer.

The cacophony of fireworks and banging knockouts from outside carried on in the background. Yes, perhaps he wished he could get lost in the moment too, playing with bangers bothering not the slightest about anything. Why did the future always feel scary and abstract?

Well, here it comes.

Pastor always did this, getting them into a prayer point that would keep them all praying as the seconds ticked past midnight. It would be about five praying minutes into the day that he would then shout, “Happy New Year!” and then the church would be agog with everyone greeting their neighbours, hugging their loved ones and altogether welcoming one another into the New Year.