“Fool” she interrupted, “You’ll remember today for the rest of your life.” She stood, “You had the guts to go contrary to my instruction?”
She started moving to the table. She got to it and pulled out the drawer. She put a hand in it, quickly took out something, hid it behind her back and started back to Reagan. Reagan knew she was holding something dangerous
but couldn’t tell what. He thought of running but Jane would be too fast for him, she was built like an athlete. He considered fighting her and taking the weapon from her but knew he was too small for her. Finally, he resigned himself to whatever fate Jane now controlled.
Jane got to him and forced him to his feet with a hand, her other hand still kept behind her. She backed to a seat dragging Reagan with her.
“Get on your knees.” She said cruelly. The sound of her voice sent him spinning away but
her hand was timely, she pulled him forward, “Where do you think you are going?” “No where.” He cried.
Reagan’s skin now felt like a corpse; he knelt on the floor, trying to predict her next action.
Jane rapped, “Close your eyes.”
“Now!” She thundered.
Reagan obeyed immediately. In the next minute, he felt a shattering pain on his finger
and he quickly opened his eyes wide and saw a pair of pliers held tightly to his ring finger.
Blood was gushing out.
Jane fought madly to keep the struggling and wailing Reagan still as she twisted the pliers
left and right and finally chopped off a finger from his left hand. In another twenty-five minutes, she had already driven the bleeding
Reagan to a clinic. She told the doctor that her child had had an accident while playing with a knife. As Jane told her lies to the doctor, Reagan stared painfully
and helplessly and wished God struck her dead for telling such a wicked lie. The following week, Reagan
was discharged, leaving him with four fingers on his left hand. Two days later, he suffered from kwashiorkor and the next day, he ran away. .
Seven years later, he was back for Jane. The weather was drizzling when he reached the gate. He wore a back shirt on black trouser. He gave several knocks before the gatekeeper came out from the gatehouse to open the gate. He looked through a small opening on the gate and immediately recognized Reagan. He quickly
dug into his pocket and took out his phone.
He dialed a number and placed the phone against his ear but Reagan pushed the muzzle
through the hole and shot him. “Shit.” Reagan said; he would have made him open the gate before killing him. The gate was massive and strongly built and Reagan knew his gun was useless for that kind of gate; moreover, he wanted to take Jane unawares. He moved over to the high fence and started climbing. He was a cat for walls, his height was not an impediment. In five minutes, he was inside the compound. He ran up the stairs and stopped at the door; it was locked. He rang the bell
and waited. In some minutes, Jane opened the door and instantly quaked with fear. She was wearing a beige wool shirt that was softly full and a silk blouse. Her golden bangle was on her right wrist. He stared at Reagan as if she hadn’t known him. He had grown too mature
for his age. Reagan smiled and took out a gun. He pointed it at her, “Surprised to see me?” He scratched his cheek with the gun, “Go take a seat.” He said smilingly.. Her mouth felt dry and turned agape as she stood for some seconds, and she started moving backwards. Reagan followed her closely, his finger on the trigger. When they were past the door, Reagan kicked it close.
Jane reached the couch and became bilious. That was the first she was seeing a gun, and
now it was being pointed at her, she felt sick.
“Sit mum.” Reagan was smiling, but it was an order.
Jane sat, looking pale.
Reagan sat on a seat adjacent her, “Longest time mum, how’ve you been?” His smile was replaced by sudden indifference.
Jane found her lips smiling but a pulsating headache had overtaken her.
Reagan smiled again, “Have you suddenly become dumb?”. He gave a hysterical giggle,
“All these seven years, I missed you. I’ve always had sleepless nights, thinking of you and how to make this reunion remarkable. I’m happy this day has finally come. Are you not
happy?” He kept the gun on his laps and took out a pack.
Jane kept mute, her headache becoming severe.
Reagan flicked out a cigarette and lit it, “When I ask you a question, you answer me. Is that clear?”
Jane felt the seriousness of his voice and nodded, her body fidgety.
He pulled on the stick and smoke came out slowly from his nostrils. He was glad it was
already raining. He enjoyed the thunder crashing outside and was happy the rain would aid in what he had come for. He was still looking at Jane and he pressed his lips tight on the cigarette in his mouth to stifle a laugh at how tensed up Jane had become. He never knew she could be such troubled at the mere sight of her son she hadn’t seen for seven years, “I ask again,” he said smugly,
“are you not happy for this wonderful reunion of mother and son?” Jane shook her head weakly, “I’m happy.”
“That’s good.” He took a longer draw on his cigarette and said, “Is there any drink
in this house? I feel thirsty.”
Jane nodded, “In the fridge.”
He stood, “Make no move” he released smoke,
“or I’ll make this reunion more interesting than I intended.” He walked to the
fridge in the dining room and took a bottle of Heineken. He moved to the rack and
picked a glass, then came back to the sitting room, “Do you also feel thirsty?” He
poured some quantity of the
drink into the glass.
Jane shook her head, “Thank you, I’m ok.”
He took a gulp, “Did you miss your lovely son as much as he missed you?” He dragged on
his cigarette and watched smoke come out of his nostrils.
Jane was silent.
He smiled, “I ask a question and you answer. I won’t mention it again.” His voice was sinister. He took another gulp, “Did you miss your lovely son all this while?” Jane answered immediately, “I did.”
Reagan laughed, “I see.” He dropped the dog- end on the floor and lit another stick. He
raised his left hand, “Do you still remember the accident?” He splayed his fingers. Jane looked at the hand and quickly looked down, afraid to look at the four fingers. “Look up and answer me.” He thundered and listened to the noise of the heavy rain outside.
Jane obeyed immediately and looked up, “I do remember. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Tears ran down her cheeks.
Reagan’s eyes were on her, “What was your motive when you took me from the foster
home?” He refilled his glass.
Jane wiped her tears and said, “I wanted a child. After Ben left me, I felt lonely and
decided to foster. Please forgive me.” She pleaded.
“And you did all those evil to the child you fostered?” Reagan’s voice was low but clear.
Jane wiped another tear off with a restless finger, “Please forgive me. I didn’t
came over me”.