FORGIVE ME PAST: A Hunted Hunter

Specifically, thoughts about Stone, Sande and Rachael were dominant, and the rest, just desserts. I had learnt many lessons from the events, for example, every man has his burden to carry—although I was undeserving of mine—and mountains to move. Time couldn’t even allow me have a peaceful rest, say a day or two, for I had to pick myself up, from Ronnie’s warm beddings, to take care of my patient.

I checked my phone and I was a bit surprised on seeing that the time was just 6:14am. I still had the deceased policeman’s ID in my hand, and believed it had been the cause of the nightmare I’d had that night. I couldn’t remember it in detail but I remembered, without a doubt, that I’d had a strange dream in which I had to pay the price for the man’s death.

Picking up my body to start off with the day, I first assessed how my patient had spent the night. The fact that he was still sound asleep made it so obvious that he had spent the night, in utter peace, like a baby. Perhaps that was the immaculate work of vodka and marijuana. What I was certain about was that he’d suffer a hangover the moment he opened his eyes. But ’til then, he was going to spend the remaining minutes of the morning slumber in heaven’s arms.

With Gerald unconscious of the real world, and the clock having a lot of time to offer, I decided to use those unoccupied hours to continue with my search for Rachael. Her number could not be reached even then, and this was driving me crazy. The flash series of happenings had made my longing for her a bit hazy, but now it was morning—just the perfect time for the mind to exaggerate feelings.

After cleansing myself of both sin and dirt, I pocketed 100,000shs and made it out into the chilly morning breeze. A mist had painted white the whole atmosphere, to the extent that it was difficult to recognise things in a distance of just ten metres. I dragged my heavy body through the forest of houses in the slum, then the busy main road, and finally to Rachael’s hostel.

There was no pulling of ropes with the askari like the last time, but the story about Rachael hadn’t changed. He told me he hadn’t seen her for the past number of days, and her room was still locked. I again took the search to the campus, but still her presence hadn’t baptised it for the past week, as per the students I was able to ask. It was so unfortunate that this was as far as I could go for my love, but it was beyond my control, and that fact made me lose my mind even more.

If it hadn’t been for Gerald’s medication, perhaps I would have waited for more hours for a miracle, but since the morning sun had completed it’s arrival, I had to be on my way back to my patient, lest he called upon me in vain. I had always crushed on a nurse at Elen’s clinic, and this was the first—and last—time to get the chance to talk to her with words (stares had been the only language I had used in her perimeters). She actually made a bit of a difference, prescribing the drugs and creams for my patient, with her winsome voice.

“He also needs the anti-rabies vaccine, since we don’t know whether the dog was sick or not,” she advised, and gave me the vaccine and directions of how to give it, after a brief debate about bringing the patient or not, which I won after a ton of excuses filled with lies. “Please keep me updated about his situation, to avoid any complications,” she offered as I departed. I replied with a wild gaze as I kept on walking.

The first sight of Leila seated on Gerald’s bed, nursing him, made me glad, before I went closer to an unexpected state in which my patient was. I was dumbstruck seeing him in a world of helplessness, way too worse than the one I’d left him in. He looked like he had been used as a punching bag—his face was swollen and reddish, left hand dislocated, and beddings, soaked in blood. The pain he was going through was written allover him. Fortunately, they hadn’t taken anything from our mansion, including his life.

Leila didn’t have anything to say to me. Her face was wrinkled by the sadness in her heart—the sadness that one of her devoted customers had been mistreated. Leila was a prostitute—one of the most attractive—and a very good friend of her regular customer, Gerald. She lived a day-angel-night-vampire kind of lifestyle. I don’t know and didn’t ask how and why she was there but I was glad she was. I don’t know what would happen to Gerald if she hadn’t been there on time to give him first aid.

At first, I couldn’t get out any word but after a few seconds of letting the sight sink in, I asked her what had happened and with a sad tone in her voice, she broke it to me that Mr Kisule had come with two men who beat Gerald up, as she pleaded for him, in the name of a car never returned. I was so aggravated by Kisule’s archaic and immature way of dealing with things. He had turned Gerald’s face into a garden of bruises and lesions, that one would fail to identify him, just because the latter had failed to return the dunce’s car.

The only utterances Gerald could make were the wails as Leila passed a warm moist cloth on his wounds. His state was so miserable that I had to take him to the clinic—something I had not refrained in the first place. Moving through Bwaise during day was like walking through a marketplace—there were thousands of murmurs and millions of eyes on me, as I passed through the corridors with Gerald on my back. Leila helped me carry things we’d need at the clinic, including the medication I had come with.

“Can he stay here for sometime, please, so you can have a closer look on him as he completes the treatment?” I tried to lure the gracious nurse, after treating Gerald’s wounds. Leila was in the treatment room with Gerald, feeding and giving the latter company.

“I can’t do that for you, Sam,” she announced in the sweetest of tones that suggested otherwise. I was glad she had called me by name, after the brief intimate conversation we’d had a few minutes back. “My boss can show up any time, and he wouldn’t be happy seeing a patient not leave after fifteen minutes.”

“I understand, Peace, but there’s no other haven for him but this,” I continued my attempt despite the genuineness of her excuse. “Just look at the situation he is in: he can only get better with your nursing skills and loving-kindness. I will pay any extra fees for that.” Nurse Peace thought for a moment, as I searched for positive replies in her mid-twenties face, but beauty was all I found. Her eyes danced in their sockets, from here to there, clearly avoiding contact with mine.

“You will have to take him away before Monday because that’s the day my boss usually comes,” she sang, a string of saliva joining the upper and lower teeth sets as she uttered the last word, that my dirty mind spelled as ‘cums’ instead of ‘comes’, in the sentence. I was happy, at least for the moment, that I gave her a big hug despite my below-average hygiene. Nevertheless, she didn’t resist my sign of appreciation.

Gerald had got the energy to eat something, but talking was still a mystery to him. His lips looked like they had suffered drills from bee stings. He wore a smile when he saw me—at least he could recognize people, despite his swollen eyes. “You’ll be fine, Gerald,” I reassured him before calling Leila aside. “Do you know where Kisule stays?” I asked in the most neutral tone. I had plans for a better future for Gerald and I, and Kisule was no where in them.