Scars (Romola 2)

90: Family Name

Olumide knew someone would challenge him but he did not expect that to be his father. He waited for Ajoke to slap him or for Yetunde to scream at him and remind him of how Modupe's condition was his own doing.

But his usually stoic father stared down at him with a dark look. "What's the meaning of this nonsense?"

If the older man refused to recognize Romola's presence, that was not his problem. "The meaning of what?"

Olumide did not break his father's gaze as he stepped forward, trying to appear bigger and stronger so that there was less of Romola for his family to scrutinise.

His father's eyes grew larger. The man spat out a string of incoherent words, his tongue dancing in and out of his mouth with little droplets of spit spraying Olumide. It seemed like he was having an epileptic fit.

Olumide remained unmoved.

"Romola, or whatever you call yourself, what strings do you have on my son?" His father asked. "What have you initiated him into? What dirt do you have on him?"

"Speak to me directly, dad," Olumide said.

"Very well. Then you better tell this little wench to do the right thing before I—"

"Before what? What can you do that she has not faced? She's not me. You can't threaten her. It won't work."

His father turned away with folded arms. Olumide knew it wasn't over. If anyone thought Ajoke was manipulative, then they were yet to meet the mastermind of the family.

"I don't know how you all are sitting here so calm when there is a little child about to lose her life." His mother screamed, then pointed at Romola. "You. I'll have you charged for the death of this child."

"Nobody should talk about dying. Modupe will not die." Yetunde said.

"Every minute we wait surely increases the danger of complications." Olumide's mother adjusted the looped metal belt on her dress, glaring down at Romola. "What do you really want? What can be given to a soul as heartless as you?"

"There's nothing I want that you can give."

"Is all this spunned from jealousy? Because I wouldn't let you have my son?"

Romola laughed behind him but it was the kind of laughter that bore no good. "You attach far too much importance to your son."

Her wounds stung him. Maybe there would be no way to repair what had ever been between them. That was the past and that Romola was different from this one, even though she still shared the same qualities as what had attracted him in the first place. And he was different now. He hoped she could see that. He hoped that when all of this was over, he would have a chance to show her just how much he loved her.

"Can you hear what this girl is saying, Ola?" His mother's brows folded in a tight line as she turned from his father to him. "Mide, will you stand there and let her insult me? You? Our family?"

"The focus of this is Modupe and I'll appreciate it if we keep to that topic." He said.

"Keeping to the topic means your myopic girlfriend here should give blood." Ajoke said.

"I'm not his girlfriend." Romola's reply was sharp.

"She doesn't want you." Yetunde said through sobs. "I want you, Mide. I love you and instead of you to... to... focus on me and our marriage, you were running up and down for this witch. This is the person you let Modupe get hurt for."

If Romola could stand and have all the insults hurled at her even when she had done enough to save Modupe's life, then he would not create a crack in her armour. She had done the heavy lifting and the least he could do was keep up the act.

"Whether she wants me or not, I'm not leaving her until all of this is over."

His father walked back to him. "Do you understand what you are saying?"

"Do you want me to say it in Yoruba? Or Egba? French? Chinese? Pick a language, sir. I am not going to leave her for anything and if she decides not to give blood, I'll stand by her decision."

The older man grimaced as he placed both hands on Olumide's shoulder. "Answer my question properly because your life may very well depend on this. On whose side will you stand? Your family who raised you or with this second class prostitute?."

"Prostitute. Cheat. Liar. Rat. Wrench. Whatever name you choose to call her, I'll stand by the woman I love no matter what anyone thinks of her."

His father stared into his eyes. Usually, he would break his gaze, lower his head and step back but this time he did the opposite, looking above his father's head as much as he could and taking a step forward.

"This is your last chance, Mide."

Olumide allowed his eyes to snap back to his father's face and he maintained his gaze. Not even blinking so that it would not be counted as some form of weakness or acknowledgement of his father's authority. He pushed off his father's hand as his mother stepped forward.

"You are the son of this family. You will carry my name. My legacy. Remember the son you unjustly deprived me of. Remember the shoes you are trying to fill. The name of this—"

"Keep your name." He yelled in the middle of his mother's rant. "I can't keep trying to be Muyi. He's gone. Let him go—"

His mother slapped him before he could finish his words. "You're dead to me. Should've left you in the asylum if I knew you would disgrace me like this."

Olumide felt Romola stiffen behind him, even as she gripped his clothes but never in his life had his heart felt so free as now, as though the cage that kept him bound had shattered all around and the water that threatened to drag him under had dried, creating a new pathway.

"Very well, Mrs. Makinde."

"No. No." Yetunde jumped, screaming and tearing off her jewellery while letting her braids fall from the ponytail position. "I will not accept this."

AUTHOR NAME

Hello again. Please if you've not responded to the question on the previous post, please do so I can get started on setting up. For those who prefer emails, I found a way to set up my blog to send you emails directly. So, we'll possibly go down that route. 

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