TRAPPED...Part 13.

"Dan, I need help." I hung up as fast as I had dialed. He was trying to say something. But it didn't matter. Nothing does. I was in a very dark place. The past three days have been bleak. The thought of anyone coming for my  baby was unbearable. As soon as Jimmy's parents left, I dismissed my student tailors and locked up the shop. I went to pick up Vicky at her school and we headed home. 

As the weekend wore on, I grew more and more despondent. Vicky must have noticed something was wrong because she kept to herself, talking endlessly to her doll. Uche became increasingly quiet. I went through the motions preparing their meals. My appetite was gone, as had my interest in everything. I sat in the bed from morning till night, holding Uche in my arms. On my mind was a million questions, all of which filled me with anger and dread. 

I was sinking fast and I knew the only reasonable thing was to make that call. A flurry of text messages entered my phone as I dropped the call. Three were from Habiba. One contained directions for the wedding the following weekend. She had come to the shop with Dalha on Saturday and found it locked. She wanted to know whether I had finished any of her clothes. One was from my sister Nkechi. She was trying to check up on me. I switched off the phone.

I heard a knock on the door. A second knock. As I went to answer the door, I took a quick glance at my living room. It was in disarray. It didn't matter. "Who is it?" I asked.

"Stella, it is me." I opened the door to let him in.

He looked at me and I saw his shock. He has never seen me so unkempt.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

I broke into tears. "They came to...they want to...take Uche." Tears were streaming freely from my eyes.

"Who are they? And where is Vicky?"

"She is inside. Vicky, Uncle Dan is here!"I called out, wiping away the tears with my wrapper. She emerged from the room and greeted him. There was no excitement in her voice.

I proceeded to tell Dan everything. He listened, shaking his head on occasions. When I was done, he was disturbed.

"No no! They can't do that. They can't take the baby away. Let me call Bola. She is a lawyer. I think we need to know what the law says in this matter." He made a phone call.

"Mummy, is anyone taking Baby away?" Vicky asked, holding Uche's left arm. I had forgotten she was present when I was talking to Dan.

"No, Sweetheart. Nobody is taking baby away." I stroked her head.

"Bola is on her way back from work. She will stop over," Dan said.

He left briefly and returned with Bola. She was dressed in a spotted white shirt and a black suit. The sound of the heels of her shoe interrupted the silence in the room. She greeted me and asked me to tell her everything. I narrated everything, starting from the night I picked up Uche.

"After, you picked up the baby, did you make any move to formally adopt the baby?" she asked.

"Like how?" I asked, confused.

"Did you go to any Social Welfare Department to begin the adoption process?"

"No. I went to the Police Station. They collected my statement and sent us away. I never knew about Social Welfare."

"Hmmm." She shook her head. "Your going to the Police clears you from any accusation of child kidnapping. But you ought to have began the adoption process."

I was indignant. "I didn't know! I had no idea there was a Social Welfare department."

"Ignorance of the law is no excuse."

Her words stung. The room was silent again. I was distraught. Vicky shuffled her feet.

"Please, can you help stop them from taking my baby away?" I was pleading.

"I will try. But your case is weak. Granted, Praise may be ruled unfit to raise Uche. But what of his grandparents, to whom he is related by blood?" She was blunt and I hated that about her.

"Ok. Enough of the crying and moodiness," Dan said, standing. "No one is taking the baby away. Not today."

He turned to me. "Get everyone dressed. We are going out."

He was tickling Vicky. Vicky's eyes lighted up as she laughed.

"I am not in the mood to go anywhere," I said, trying to smile.

"I was not asking." I knew what that meant.

Forty-five minutes later, the cold blast from the air-conditioner welcomed us as we took our seats at Mr. Biggs.

The fried tenderized chicken did much to restore my appetite. Vicky was licking her iced cream, casting frequent glances at the children having fun in the play section. She soon went to join them. Bola was eating quietly, occasionally looking my way.

"So, how was work today? Any highlights?" I asked Dan. 

He smiled. "Hmmm...Something strange happened this evening,"Dan said, setting down his glass of orange juice.

"An elderly man was brought to the mortuary. He was said to have died in his sleep that morning." Bola and I listened with rapt attention.

"The mortician pierced the man's vein to introduce formalin and noticed something strange. Fresh blood flowed. Suddenly, the 'dead' man grabbed his arm, shouting. The mortician broke free and fled, screaming."

"What is formalin?"Bola asked.

"It is a liquid chemical used to preserve dead bodies,"Dan said.

I cringed.

Dan continued. "One of the security men, held him down and people gathered. News quickly spread and some security men decided to go back with him to verify. Lo and behold, the 'dead' man was standing at the entrance of the mortuary, bleeding from his right forearm. Everyone took to their heels. The 'dead' man was walking around the hospital. A nurse saw him bleeding and took him to the Accident and Emergency. The wound was closed. He had suffered some kind of memory loss and could not remember how he got to the hospital. His people were called. You need to see the shock on their faces when they saw him."

I was shaking my head in wonder. Bola was laughing. 

"So, would one say he rose up from the dead?" she asked.

"Maybe he wasn't dead in the first place. We are still struggling to explain what happened," Dan said.

"Maybe it is a miracle," I said, smiling. "Death looks final. But God can turn even death around. He can give us back our lives. Just as he did for that man." Dan and Bola nodded in agreement.

The night ended warmly.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.