Binding Scars Page 7

  I grabbed my slippers and snuck out. I had to see Eriga with my own eyes. No way I could sit back waiting for news from Joy or Mary. The five minutes walk to the Babalola mansion passed quicker than I would have liked.

  The night wasn’t so quiet. The barber’s shop beside the mansion pulsed with music and raucous laughter. Young men and women stood in twos, murmuring and laughing in that age old manner that spoke of flirtation. And right in front of the mansion, Mary and Joy stood over a prone figure that could only be Eriga.

  What had I done?

  On the other side of the road I stood, apart from my best friends. Somehow Joy caught sight of me and strode over. Even at this time of the night, she looked chic and well dressed under the fall of the overhead lights. Without thinking, I stepped back from her forward charge.

  It only infuriated her more. With a snarl, she dove for me, wrapping her hands around my neck. She hissed. “You had only one thing to do, tell the damn truth.”

  Her hands dropped from my neck, her gaze scalding and furious. I glanced over at Eriga’s prone body and shivered. Joy grabbed my hand and dragged me over. Mary looked up. Her pale features, slow movements, and droopy eyes a reminder of her illness.

  She shook her head; the movement dulled somewhat. Was she on medication right now? Joy’s quick nod at my unspoken question was all the answer I needed.

  “You can’t be here, Mary. You need to rest--”

  “Are you joking right now?” Joy snarled. She dug her hand into her hair and came away with her wig. “You fucking coward, you liar--”

  “How do you know I lied?” I asked, stalling. “I could have--”

  “Done nothing, not when it will change things for you. We know how scared you are of change.” Her shoulders dropped, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Christ. I called the police. I called the police, Ada.”

  “Jesus,” I whispered. “Tell me no one knows.”

  “Just us,” she turned her face away slightly to wipe her tears, “just us. I pray to God it stays that way.”

  “Can you both stop, Riggy needs us and….” Mary trailed off weakly.

  Joy pointed at her. “You need to get back, Mary, you cannot fall apart right now. We don’t need it and some of us can’t handle change.”

  I pushed her, angry and embarrassed. “Don’t talk to her like that. If you’ve got a problem, tell me to my face.”

  “Really?” Joy sneered. “Think--”

  “Stop,” Eriga croaked. We turned to her.

  I got my first look at the devastation, and abuse that was Eriga and my blood ran cold. Pushing a fist into my mouth, I tried to hold back the sound threatening to escape. Both eyes were swollen shut. Patches of skin where her long and beautiful hair should have been. One of her breasts were exposed, the nipples blood red and bitten raw. When I saw the bloodstain on her skirts, a different realization slammed into me.

  Riggy,” I whispered. I reached for Joy’s hand. Mine shook so badly, she gave me a reassuring squeeze. “They raped her?”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

  “It’s her first day for God’s sake.”

  “You say that like you don’t know them.” Joy dropped to a squat by Riggy’s side. “You served here, you suffered here. You know what they are like.”

  “Eriga,” I began—”

  “Riggy,” she said hoarsely. It was a wonder she could form words through her hideously swollen lips.

  “Have…” I drew in a breath through my nose, “we need to look at her.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Joy snapped. “She’s been bleeding down there since.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t look in there. I can’t.”

  I reached for the hem of her skirt. That unique metallic smell brushed through my nose. It was wet. I rubbed my fingers. Blood. Jesus. I clenched my fists. “We need to take her to a hospital.”

  Mary half laughed, half coughed. “They will ask for her Madam. No one will treat her.”

  I chewed on my lower lip for a minute, thinking. This was on me. For all Joy’s aggressiveness, she didn’t do well in this sort of situations. “First, Mary you have to go.” I stared up at the mansion, a hulking behemoth, a testament to Babalola’s wealth and standing in the community. “Joy, do you know if anyone is in?”

  “Riggy,” she slapped Eriga’s face lightly, “is anyone in?”

  Eriga gurgled like a swimmer in danger of drowning and fell silent. Mary’s eyes went wide. “I think we go need more than ice block and paracetamol for this one.”

  Joy didn’t bat an eye at Mary’s mix of broken English. She just looked at me helplessly. It put me back in the shed with Aunt Sheila and the twins. I had to do something. “OK, I think we need to get her out of here first.”

  “And go where?” Mary asked. She placed a trembling hand on Riggy’s shoulder.

  “Go home, Mary.”

  I waited till she had gone while Joy glared at passersby. “What are you looking at?” She sneered at a woman that came too close.

  I grabbed Riggy’s legs. “Come on, let’s help her inside.”

  Only when we tried to raise her, Riggy groaned loudly. Her eyes opened, feverish and filled with pain. Her skirt drooped down, weighed down, and dripping with something unmistakably wet. Joy glanced down and blanched.

  “Ada,” she whispered, “she will die.”

  Blood. The smell rose sharp and metallic into the air. Something dropped from between Riggy’s legs, plopping wetly onto the ground. My eyes met Joy’s. “Put her down.”

  “She will die and the police will just arrest one of us and all these people will tell lies about us.” Joy stalked the short distance from one end of the gate to the other. With her sharp manicured nails, she pinched at the skin of her fingers. I winced at each pull. “Remember Ibrahim? The police arrested him for Clara instead of punishing her fucking mistress. And I just needed a little money to get out of here. Dam--”

  I pounced on that. “You have money?”

  Joy stopped, her nostrils flared in preparation to take down whatever argument I might bring up. “I spread my legs for that money. Oga fucked me until my vagina broke, I’m not giving you any of that money--”

  “For Riggy, Joy. For Riggy.”

  “I said no. If you take her to the hospital anyway, they won’t treat her--”

  “We’ll go to one of those herbalists or traditional healers. Forget the consequences, let her survive this first.”

  Joy rested her back against the gate pillars. Her expression was cold when she said, “No, the money it’s mine.” But I saw the way she picked at the skin of her fingers with the other. The blood on her left probably came from that nasty habit and not from Riggy.

  This was the Joy who begged for death all over again. She still had scars on her fingers from that day. Madam Gold made her pick the flesh off her fingers with her own hands. And Joy never stopped using that habit when she needed an escape.

  “OK, OK, I won’t touch the money--”

  “Fuck off. It’s mine, it’s mine,” Joy banged her head against the pillar, “It’s mine, it’s mine--”

  I ran to her, catching her fingers. I smoothed my hand over her skin. “No one knows where you keep the money remember?” One glance at her fingers and I winced. The skin had tiny bites like rats went to party on them. “Hey.” I whispered when she lay there shuddering. “The money’s yours. I will find another way to help Riggy. Just promise you’ll stay with her.” Heavy regret colored my words. “I have to get back home before I’ll be missed.”

  Haltingly, Joy tapped my shoulder. “I’m sorry for some--”

  “I know.”

  She sniffed. “You have a good Madam, I wouldn’t want you to spoil things.”

  “I know.”

  “It will be foolish.”

  “Yes.”

  “That party I told you about is in two days.”

  “OK,” I continued to rub at her fingers, knowing she needed the mundane to come together. “I will
be ready.”

  “Promise?”

  “I will be ready.”

  She drew in a breath and cut her eyes to where Riggy lay, ominously silent. “We’ve lost many people.”

  “Yes.”

  “Still think you can help her?”

  “I just need one thousand naira for bike fare. Or more?”

  Her eyebrows arched upwards, and she never looked more beautiful, tears and all. “Are we going to the next state, on a bike?“

  “It’s somewhere in Abeokuta.”

  Her expression turned speculative. “Who can you possible know in Abeokuta?”

  I pointed at Riggy.“Joy—”

  “OK, OK, let’s go.”

  Five minutes later, I fought to concentrate on the present, fighting back my panic. The blood from Riggy sipped into my dress. She had lost too much blood. Her head lolled and caught her arms so she rested against me and not the bike man.

  “She no well?” he asked in broken English.

  The question nearly caused me to fall off the bike. Nobody least of all a bike man got into a business between a maid and her Madam. When I remembered he probably didn’t know us, I relaxed.

  “No.”

  About two hours later, we stopped at Merrick’s house. I felt the weight of the bike man’s stare. “You know the man we get this house?”

  Joy alighted from her bike and handed the guy one thousand two hundred naira. She gave me wide eyes. “Who do you know here?”

  I propped Riggy’s hand over my shoulders and glanced around the neighborhood. It was quiet with high walls and black gates.

  “Who do you know here?” Joy asked in a loud whisper.

  “No one,” I murmured. With her help, we carried Riggy to the house. It wasn’t the biggest house in the street, and the gate was about the smallest. I knocked and waited.

  I heard a male shout and the thud of footfalls. They pulled the locks back, and Merrick stared at me without expression. Behind the shades, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I dropped my eyes to his lips and down to my toes.

  “Hmmmm…”

  Joy pinched my backside. Riggy moaned. Her weight strained my left shoulder. I raised my chin. “I… my friend’s hurt and no one can know.” He still didn’t say a word, just stood there looking incredibly good looking with those tattoos and rings that glinted under the lights. “I didn’t have nowhere to go.”

  Without a word, he stepped forward, and caught Riggy’s chin. Abruptly, he lifted her off my shoulders. He was gentle, but Riggy still cried out. His fingers brushed against my neck, touching my skin until he had her. We walked inside.

  “Follow him,” I told Joy.

  “Follow who? You don’t know him. I don’t know him and this can’t be good for me because my Oga knows him.”

  “But he doesn’t know you’re here. I’ve got to go.” I didn’t know how I knew he would make sure Riggy was alright. I just knew.

  Joy rolled her eyes. “Right. Go,” she said grudgingly.

  “And tell them to check your hands!”

  “Right,” Joy murmured and followed Merrick inside.

  Throughout the bike ride back, I worried. How do I explain four hours? Back home, I walked into an argument. All the lights were on, the whole house blazing like a thousand suns shined within. I slipped through the gates, knowing there was no chance no one noticed my absence.

  I rushed to my room and changed my clothes just in time to hear the front doors open. A crash. A scream. A cry. I bundled my bloodied clothes and flung them in a far corner. Hastily, I ran for the bathroom outside, wiping down with the water in the bathing bucket.

  With a prayer on my lips, I dressed hurriedly. I walked out to find Blessing on her hands, and knees, blood pouring from her mouth. Quickly, I got over my surprise and ran forward to help. But Blessing shook her head.

  “Stay away or you’ll sleep outside again.”

  I had just taken a step back when Oga came running out with a cane he used on me. The Babalolas and some of our neighbors ran out, arguing loudly. Madam pushed past them to catch her husband’s arm.

  “She’s your daughter, please stop.”

  He pushed her off, and she fell. I ran to help Madam up. Oga took the cane to Blessing’s back and legs as she curled up into a ball on the ground. The lashes were vicious and even more terrifying to hear.

  “Please, please, she’s pregnant. Steve!”

  I blanched. Blessing was pregnant? Madam went to launch herself at her husband, and I held her back. Benita stood in a corner crying as Oga went to work on Blessings arm and back. I didn’t dare stop him.

  He only stopped when the cane broke. In the resulting silence, I heard nothing from Blessing and my fears spiked. She had never had a violent hand laid on her. But Oga wasn’t done. He stood over his daughter, panting. “I don’t ever want to see you in this house. Ever. Go back to that man who put that thing inside you.”

  Madam fell on Blessing, wailing. Her grief, piercing and loud, broke my heart. “What have you done, Steve? First my son and now Blessing? Why do you hate me so… oh God!”

  Oga kicked her hard. “Get that thing out of my house, unless you want to follow her.”

  Despite myself, I jerked hard. Oga laughed at my reaction. “Useless wife, stupid children, foolish maid.”

  With that, he pushed past the small group of spectators and stormed inside. In the wake of his abrupt departure, we stood like children abandoned in front of the orphanage, without direction or purpose. Less than a minute later, Oga ran back out.

  “You, come here.”

  He waited by the door as I came close. My heart pounded triple times against my ribs even as I forced my legs to move. When I got close enough, he grabbed me by the neck of my dress and pulled. My feet scrambled to keep up as he practically ran up the stairs.

  “Pack everything belonging to her,” he snarled. “Throw it out!”

  I crammed Blessings things into a bag, making sure only to grab the necessities. Silently, I despaired of the girls’ spending habits. Blessing especially ran through her pocket money like most rich kids. When I was done, he pushed me down the stairs to take it out, nostrils flaring like I was taking out the trash.

  Maybe to him I was.

  Outside, Blessing was on her knees crying. Her split lip and swollen features took me aback for a minute. This was far from the princess I knew. When she saw her bag in my hand, she crumpled. One of Oga’s friends snickered. I wished for Blessing’s sake I could send them all home. I knew the score. They would gossip to their daughters. Then the tale would be all over Blessing’s school.

  “Who’s the boy?” Madam asked, wiping her tears with ringed fingers. “Maybe I can talk to his parents, arrange something.”

  Blessing hiccuped. She tried three times before she could string together a word. “Mom, the boy denied we ever had sex, that’s why I came--”

  Madam slapped her hard, causing her head to twist to the side. “Did I send you to school to have sex?” Her voice broke, and she drew Blessing into her arms. “What were you thinking? I--”

  “Stand up, stand up,” Oga appeared from nowhere and lifted her by the waist, “you think can disgrace this family and get away with it?”

  Benita screamed and ran to her father, sinking her teeth into his thigh. He cursed loudly. Somehow Madam got into the fray. I used the distraction to run to my room. I grabbed the shop bag hung on a hook behind the door and ran out again.

  By this time, the whole family were by the gate with tiny Benita fighting her father to let her sister stay. The irony of Blessing and Benita who never got along being on the same side in that moment wasn’t lost on me. Oga pushed Benita, ordering his wife, “Hold her.”

  Madam obeyed and watched helplessly as he threw Blessing out. Oga turned on me then. “Are you stupid? Throw her bags out or follow her.”

  I grabbed her bags with the store bag and followed. Blessing sat on the ground in front of the house, looking more stunned than devastated.
It hadn’t sunk in yet. But from experience, I knew the pain would be worse tomorrow.

  “Here,” I whispered fiercely, “the store key is in that bag. Take a bike to the store, sleep there. I will see you tomorrow and bring food and medicine for the pain.”

  Bitchy Blessing of before would have turned her nose up at being told to take a bike. I remembered an incident during her first year of school. It was just last year. Blessing came home a month into her first semester to complain about her pocket money. It was during the rainy season; the roads were flooded and no car would come to the house.