Ese couldn’t believe her eyes. She had to be dreaming. Her husband’s flesh felt cold. Shivers ran down her spine. She shook him again. It was their fifth wedding anniversary today. Was he trying to pull a prank on her? Today wasn’t the day for such expensive jokes. She called his name for the umpteenth time. He wasn’t answering.
“Baby… Please wake up. I beg you, please… Don’t leave me alone. Please. Oh God… Oh God… Why aren’t you answering?” Ese wailed.
She picked up the phone and called their family doctor.
There was a cackle at the other end, then a voice said “Hello…”
“Hello Doc,” Ese began. “He’s not talking to me… He’s so cold… He’s not moving Doc. Please help me. Help me ooo, help me Doc…”
“Calm down ma’am. Who are you talking about?” The voice asked calmly.
“My husband ooo. Please help me. Help me ooo. I’m finished. Heeeeey. My enemies have won. They have won ooo. Doctor ooo. See me. See me ooo…”
“I’ll be right there ma’am. Please give me a few minutes.” Then the line went dead.
Ebosele stood beside the woman he loved. He tried to comfort her. Her eyes were red and swollen. She still wore her nightie. He watched as the medical team carried him on a stretcher toward the ambulance parked on his driveway. His wife ran after them.
“Baby go back inside and wear something more decent. Haba! How can you come out of the house in your nightie?”
But Ese just kept running and wailing. There was not the slightest indication she had heard him.
“Baby?” Ebosele tried again. “Can you hear me?” He was getting tired of being ignored. “Maybe not then.” He shook his head in frustration.
He had overheard the doctor telling his colleagues that he was dead. How can he be dead? He was still here for God’s sake! Why won’t anyone notice him? Even his wife couldn’t see him? This was painful and disappointing. He got inside the ambulance along with his wife and the medical team. He felt so light; so free. This was all new to him. Their team of house maids had stared at his body as they wheeled it into the ambulance. They were all crying. Was he dead? Was he truly dead? Is this how it felt to die? His house, his wife, his name… Was it all over? No! He couldn’t believe it. He would just hope this whole mix up sorts itself out. With a more determined look, he floated in and out of the van… Wait a minute! He wasn’t walking. For the first time he realised he wasn’t actually stepping on the ground. He was floating. Was he now a spirit or a ghost? He couldn’t tell.
Dr Dave Sullivan was convinced Mr Ebosele was dead. But how? The man had regular medical check ups. He had no history of heart or brain diseases, and he was barely 36. He was dumbfounded. Dave knew there were some unexplained deaths, but not in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that a man so full of life could just die. He was bent on performing a post mortem. He needed a closure; something to help him move on. Ebosele was his responsibility. So he somehow felt responsible for his death. Was there something he missed? Something he could have done?
Ese watched as the doctors gathered round his husband’s body. They wouldn’t let her into the room. What were they doing to him? Was he alive? Was this all a dream?
Ebosele floated about the room. He knew from the sombre faces of the doctors that there was nothing else they could do. But he was still here. He needed to find someone who could see him. He needed to somehow communicate with his wife. This was all strange. He didn’t believe in ghosts. How had he suddenly become one?
To be continued…