A Little More Living (Pt 2)

Joseph kicked the chair. Then he pushed the table down. Then he smashed every breakable in his living room. When he had spent all the anger and frustration that had worked itself up in him after he’d left the doctor, he sunk unto the floor, with his back against the wall and wept like a baby.

“I’m very sorry Mr Brown but your cancer has progressed much faster than we anticipated. At this rate, there’s nothing we can do.” The doctor had looked at him, pity etched all over his features.

“So, what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying Mr Brown that you have at the very most a month to live. I’m sorry.”

Joseph had no idea how he’d made it home after the doctor had told him that.

A month. Thirty days.  He had thirty days to live. He sniffled and rested his arms on his knees. What the hell was he going to do in thirty days? He suddenly realized he had a lot of things to do and not enough time to do it.

The empty house was choking him. He needed to get out. He’d always liked the fact that he lived alone, that there were no squawking kids or nagging wife. However, he’d do anything to be surrounded by the noises of existence. He went out and got in his car to go for a drive. He however reasoned thaty in his current state, he’d reduce his thirty days to a few hours. He got out of the car and instead went to the bus stop.

He rode the bus till it got to its last stop. He got down and then begin to walk, not exactly aware of where he was. There was a football field up ahead and some kids were playing soccer. He walked there and sat down in the grass and simply absorbed the noises of people. The noises of living.

He smelled her before he saw her. Her scent was distinctive because it was not forced. She was not heavily perfumed. She just smelt like home. He looked up and saw her. The first thing he noticed was that the sun reflected off her head. It was shaven, with nary a strand of hair to be seen.

He had to lower his head because she sat on the grass next to him. She didn’t invade his personal space but she sat close enough to let him know that she was interested in a conversation with him. However, he decided to let her have the first word.

“Silly game, if you ask me. I have never understood the reasoning behind it.” Her voice was soft and smooth. He was in a very crappy mood and was prone to snap at people during such times. However, the lilting tones that made up her voice caressed his broken spirit and made his soul ache.

“I could try to convince you that it wasn’t silly but I have a feeling you’d find that extremely boring.”

“That I would. I’m Serena, by the way.”

“Joseph.” He turned to her. She was looking at the boys play. Her expression was difficult to read. He used the moment of silence to study her. She wore no earrings or jewellery of any kind. She wore blue shorts, a white T-shirt and a grey hoodie over the shirt. She wore flip-flops. Her toenails were naked and so were her fingernails. She was beautiful but not the glaring kind of beautiful. She was not the enhanced kind of beautiful. She was just beautiful. In a calm and soothing kind of way.

“So Joseph, why are you here voluntarily getting grass stains on your trousers? Is your kid playing?”

“No. I don’t have any kids.”

“Oh I see. Kids. I never really got the attraction. They’re great as babies but they grow up and become adults. I don’t like adults.”

“But you’re an adult.”

“When I have to be yes, but not all the time.”

“Interesting. And when do you have to be an adult?”

“When the bills are to be paid and when I’m scolding my siblings.”

“Never had any. Siblings, I mean.” He didn’t know why he was even talking to her. She was a total stranger and here he was, telling her about himself.

“Well, that’s a pity. They’re fun, but only when they’re not getting on your nerves.”

He made a noise in his throat as a reply. He found her presence calmed him and he did not want her to leave. When he met a woman, his thoughts usually tended to stray towards the sexual. He had never met a woman who had not immediately at once made him think of sex. It wasn’t that he did not find her attractive. She wasn’t unattractive, no. She was attractive. But her attractiveness was in that she did not draw attention to her assets as most women usually did; deliberately flaunting their bodies in the faces of men. Her beauty was in her subtlety. Her attraction was in the fact that she seemed not to notice that she was beautiful. There was something refreshing about her lack of the usual adornments of a modern female.

“You never did answer my question. You aren’t here for a kid or a sibling and you don’t live around here, or else you wouldn’t be sitting in the grass with a suit as expensive as that.” She spoke again.

She knew his suit was expensive. Then she had money or lived around it. Most Ghanaians did not know the difference between an Hermès and an Armani.

“Um, I just wanted to be around people, you know. Be reminded of living and what it looked and felt like.” He said honestly.

“No Joseph. I don’t know. Please tell me.” She looked at him with an expression of utter curiosity. She wasn’t asking to be polite or to make conversation. She was asking because she was genuinely interested.

He felt it would be wrong to tell her about his situation. She was still a stranger and his life was none of her business. However, there was something about her that drew him in. Something about her that made him want to bare his soul.

“Why would you want to be reminded of living? You’re alive. Unless of course you’re a zombie, which would be very exciting because I never met one.”

He laughed for the first time that day. A genuine laugh.

“I’m not a zombie.” He said.

“Pity. I thought I’d have a story to tell my friends.” She said, the mirth shining in her eyes.

“Well, sorry I deprived you of a story. This afternoon, the doctor told me I had a month left to live. A statement likes that tends to make one suddenly realize that he’s not immortal.” He said, almost bitterly. He turned to look at her, expecting to see pity in her eyes. However, she didn’t look like she pitied him.  Instead, her expression was confused and somewhat curious.

“So you’re sick and the doctor said thirty days. Well, I still don’t get why that makes you want to be reminded of life.”

“I’m dying. I think it’s reason enough.”

“I don’t see it. You’re not dead. You’re dying. I think you would know what living is.” She said it very matter-of-factly, as if she was saying the sun rose in the east and set in the west.

He was surprised. He was very surprised and it was taking all of the muscles in his jaw to keep it shut. He had expected pity, or at the very least awkwardness. He did not expect a raw dissection of his statement.

“Well, for someone whose life is on a timer, I believe I’m justified in wanting to be reminded of what living looks like.”

“If that’s how you feel Joseph. There is a lot of life left in you. Use it up. Stop watching someone else use theirs.” She looked away and a faraway look settled in her eyes, as if she was remembering something that was not quite unpleasant but was still not very pleasing to think of.

“Um. I don’t know what to say to that.” He said, discomfited.

“You don’t have to say anything if you have nothing to say. Stop moping and feeling sorry for yourself. You have a month left to live? Then live!”

“What living could possibly be done in a month?”

“It’s never too late to get a little more living done.” She said, stood up and walked away. He wanted to get up and follow her but he didn’t. Her final words to him kept echoing in his mind.

“It’s never too late to get a little more living done” He sighed to himself and went home, contemplating on what possible meanings the statement could have.