Harold took the sheet to his room, scanned a copy and returned it as it was, he was sad but also had resigned to the fact that miracles do happen and had seemed to understand the reason he was given the best always.
He was a miracle child, a compensation for many moments of anguish of a barren woman and the only answer to the prayers of a childless couple.
The best kindergarten, the best elementary, the best secondary and university education were made available to him in Nigeria as they had not bought the idea of schooling abroad because they wanted their only issue close by at all times.
He had sheepishly smiled at the idea of being an otu mkpuru anya ji isi ugwo when he was driving off the petrol station earlier this evening until a man nearly got run over by him, then his mind fell to Sydney, he felt a load of worry and concern all over him, hoping this ill Sydney guy was doing alright.
Sleep had literarily refused to beckon on him and he grabbed the Sony wireless headphone in the car to serve as an anti snoring aid as he headed back to the room to seek sleep because he’d be driving in few hours and for some two and half long hours.
Ijeoma unsurprisingly hadn’t noticed his absence all this while as her snore tone had increased. He gently lay on the bed and shut out the irritating snores by playing from the Sony wireless headphone very deep R’n’B songs and in no time he was drifting rapidly into the subconscious world of sleep.
Bobby Valentino’s Turn that page was booming in his head when he woke up by 6:09 am, he quickly turned off the headset and brushed after which he carried out bathroom rituals and then ran himself a warm bath, Ijeoma was still asleep like a log of wood and snoring like a humming high KVA generator.
He dressed up and tapped her to wake up, which she lazily did after several twists and turns and further taps. He walked to the Landrover LR4 and performed the early morning car check ritual, he sat down steaming the car and prayed for the day.
By the time he was done praying Ijeoma was not yet out, but he waited patiently and played good tunes.
She finally showed up after the 6th track.
She tried to pick up a quarrel at Harold not having to pamper and watch her get ready for the day but a second look at his face made her decide against it.
Harold was visibly pissed and she knew she needed not stir up a hornet’s nest.
In no time he had hit the Enugu/Port Harcourt express way aiming at Okigwe before 8:00am
By 9:15am Harold had pulled into the garrage at their impressive mansion few blocks away from the IMO Concorde hotel Owerri.
Ijeoma ran to greet Aunty Lauretta and Harold after hauling a good morning wrapped in a shorrlived smile made entry into his room.
He walked straight to his fridge and picked a pack of juice, opened it and took a gulp, then he dialed a number he had been itching to dial all morning.
Harold : hello good morning
Sydney : hello sir, good morning.
Harold : Sydney biko dobekene Sir inugo, how is your health.
Sydney: it was better last night, even as we speak I am submitting the required specimen to the diagnostic centre.
Harold: please call me in the evening when the test results are out and I’d meet up with you.
Sydney: Sure sir, sorry, my brother I will.
And he hung up oblivious of the impact of his words “my brother” on Harold.
Harold was restless, he grabbed the key to the Toyota corolla and drove off and on the way he made a call, a very important call that only him knew why.