“Your dad is really cool,” he told me. “I wish my dad was like him.”
As for Ayoola, she never spoke to Ola again.
WIFE
“If you don’t like these shoes, I have more in storage. I can send you pictures.” Bunmi and I look down at the avalanche of shoes that Chichi has poured onto the floor behind the nurses’ station. Her shift has been over for at least thirty minutes. She has changed her clothes, and apparently her profession, too—she’s gone from nurse to saleswoman. She bends over, shuffling through the shoes on the floor to find the ones we just have to buy. She bends over so far that we see her ass crack appear above her jeans. I avert my eyes.
I was minding my own business, scheduling in a patient, when she stuck a pair of black pumps under my nose. I had waved her away, but she insisted that I come and check out her merchandise. The thing is, all the shoes she is selling look cheap, the type that fall apart after a month. She hasn’t even bothered to polish them and now they are lying on the floor. I force a smile onto my face.
“You know, they haven’t paid salaries yet…”
“And I just bought a couple new shoes…” Bunmi joins in.
Chichi squares her shoulders and wiggles a pair of diamante heels at us. “You can never have too many shoes. My prices are very reasonable.”
She is just about to launch into a sales pitch for a pair of nine-inch wedges when Yinka runs to us and slams her palms down on the counter. She may not be my favorite person in the world, but I am grateful for the interruption.
“There is drama in the coma man’s room o!”
“Drama ke?” Chichi forgets her shoes and rests her elbow on my shoulder as she leans forward. I resist the urge to swipe her arm away.
“Eh, I was going to see my patient and I heard shouting coming from his room.”
“He was shouting?” I ask her.
“It’s the wife who is shouting o. I stopped to…make sure he was okay…and I heard her calling him the devil. That he cannot take his money to the grave with him.”
“Hey! I hate stingy men!” Chichi repeatedly snaps her fingers over her head, warding off any stingy man who might be tempted to come near her. I open my mouth to defend Muhtar, to tell them that he doesn’t have a stingy bone in his body, that he is generous and kind—but I look at Bunmi’s dull eyes, Chichi’s thirsty ones and Yinka’s dark pupils and I know that my words would be willfully misinterpreted. Instead, I stand up quickly, and Chichi stumbles.
“Where are you going?”
“We can’t allow our patients to be harassed by friends or family. As long as they are here, they are in our care,” I call back to her.
“You should put that on a bumper sticker,” yells Yinka. I pretend I haven’t heard her, and I take the steps two at a time. There are thirty rooms on the third floor: 301 to 330. I hear the shouting as soon as I am in the corridor. There’s the nasal voice of the wife, and a man’s voice, too. It is whining and cajoling, so I know it is not Muhtar.
I knock on the door, and the voices quiet.
“Come in,” Muhtar calls out wearily. I open the door to find him standing by the bed, wearing a gray jalabia. He grips one of the handrails, and I can see he is half leaning on it. The strain on his body shows on his face. He looks older than the last time I saw him.
His wife is draped in a red lace mayafi. It covers her hair and falls over her right shoulder. Her dress is tailored from the same material. Her skin glows, but the snarl on her face is like that of a beast’s. Muhtar’s brother, Abdul, stands beside her with his eyes cast down. I suppose he is the owner of the whiny voice.
“Yes?” the wife barks at me.
I ignore her. “Muhtar?”
“I’m okay,” he reassures me.
“Would you like me to stay?”
“What do you mean, would he like you to stay? You are a common nurse, come on, get out of here!”
Her voice is like nails on a blackboard.
“Did you hear me?” she screeches.
I walk over to Muhtar and he gives me a wan smile.
“I think you should sit down,” I tell him gently. He loosens his grip on the bar and I help him settle into the chair closest to him. I lay his blanket over his lap. “Do you want them to stay?” I whisper.
“What is she saying to him?” the wife splutters behind me. “She is a witch! She has used juju to useless my husband! She is the reason why he is not making sense. Abdul, do something. Send her out!” She points at me. “I will report you. I don’t know what black magic you are using…”
Muhtar shakes his head, and that is all the sign I need. I straighten up and face her.
“Madam, please leave, or I will have to have Security escort you out.”
Her lower lip trembles and her eyes twitch. “Who do you think you are talking to? Abdul!”
I turn to Abdul, but he doesn’t lift his eyes to meet mine. He is younger than Muhtar, and may be even taller, but it is hard to tell for he has bent his head so low that it threatens to fall off his neck. He rubs her arm in an attempt to soothe her, but she shrugs him off. To be honest, I’d shrug him off too. The suit he is wearing is expensive, but the fit is poor. It is too wide at the shoulders and too broad at the chest. It could easily belong to someone else—the way the woman whose arm he rubs belongs to someone else.
I look at her again. She may have been beautiful once. Maybe the first time Muhtar laid eyes on her.
“I do not mean to be rude,” I tell her, “but my patient’s well-being is my priority and we don’t allow anyone to jeopardize that.”
“Who do you think you are?! You think you will get money from him? Abi, has he already given you money? Muhtar, you are there acting all high and mighty, and now you are chasing a nurse. See you! You could not even pick a fine one!”
“Get out!” The order comes from Muhtar and makes us all jump. There is an authority to his voice I have not heard before. Abdul raises his head and quickly lowers it again. The wife glowers at us both before turning on her heel and marching out the door, with Abdul following limply behind. I drag a chair over and sit beside Muhtar. His eyes are heavy. He pats one of my hands. “Thank you.”
“It was you who got them out.”
He sighs.
“Apparently, Miriam’s father wants to run for governor of Kano state.”
“So your wife wants you to approve the union.”
“Yes.”