(Too Late For a Recall: Part I )

You’ve just been fired from your own Company. A baby is due on the way. Your baby girl waits for you at home, with a baby bump, and she the girl you don’t even love. She a one night stand 8 months ago, what could ever go wrong?? So you sit there, just staring, at the park, at the empty benches, you just sit there, waiting for the worst to happen. ‘Cause when luck evades you, what is it that you can do, when fate ain’t in your own hands , and destiny abandons you? So you sit there, locking those who ever cared for you out. You in a glass castle and everybody stretches their hands, but you dissuade them away. Nothing means anything to you. You just sit there, afraid to go home, staring at the tree branches, sunlight cascading through. Hoping for some blissful abyss. You can’t go home, you really can’t go home, so you sit there, staring blankly at hues of the melancholies that brew.

And the girl, you can’t even stare at her twice. And the girl, she doesn’t give you the chills your baibe used to give you. And the girl, Damn it, back then you were madly pissed off, so you went out in search for solace. So you found her nestled with legs loosely clasped. You whispered unto her, and ajar she spread, and you jutted in. It was just a one night stand, oh Lord, what could ever go wrong. But she missed her periods, hell yeah she knew you were the daddy. So she phoned you, even though you had doubts, she sits painting her nails, in your crib waiting for you; waiting for you to come home so she can make you dinner, waiting for you to come home, so you can talk about baby names; waiting for you to come home so you may speak to the baby, maybe the baby would kick in her womb on the sound of your voice. She’s waiting for you to come home. So she can get to know you more. So she can tell you more about her. About her past, her present, and the future, not forgetting how the baby makes her feel young again.

But to you, all that ain’t in your mind. To you, the baby means no shit. Just a piece of garbage that should have been gotten rid of in the first place. All that ain’t in your mind, going home to her ain’t one of your favorite characters. Because she was just another random girl easy to get along with, easy to dick around with. To you she was just another girl who foolishly parted her petals and gave you the pussy so wet and you went in with full ammunition. You parted her legs like Moses did the red sea, and you enjoyed the view, when your mouth got stuck on the Apple, you ate it so graciously, and with every drop that dripped made it more wet, you devoured her more. You turned it over, bended it over. You rolled it over. You savored your thirst. To her she gave you wholeheartedly with love, and you made her feel the tinglings as her cherries popped out one by one. She gave it to you because she wanted you to have it as yours, and in that moment when you went down on her, you made her feel unlike no one has ever had in a long time. How dare you miss that moment. Don’t you have shame boy!? How could you miss that moment between the climax, anticlimax and her multiple orgasms when she wrapped her legs around you, and tightly her nails embedded on your skin, she whispered, “Nakupenda..”.

But, unto you the baby wasn’t made out of love. It was made out of lust, a sheer moment of weakness. And it’s so amazing how you’ve learnt to call something so beautiful, something that’s meant to be sacrosanct to be casual. For when she phoned you, your baibe was beside you, she overheard the convo, and the first question she asked you was, “Phill, is it true?”. And you were held bent there at the couch, looking away, shrugging as if you’re trying to recall 8 months ago. “Maybe, I don’t know, I’m not sure”. You said, but later on she learnt that it’s true, the random girl was caring your child. So she said, “if she’s pregnant, it means we both can’t be”. So she left and left you there to deal with it. For she wouldn’t keep you while another woman needed you more. She wouldn’t keep you while you were gonna be a father in months time. She left weeping, sobbing because of all the times you lied to her, this wasn’t a lie that you could lie on. And you tried persuading her, you tried to keep the tears from her eyes, you said you loved her, and you really loved her, but why love another on bed and spew fluids into her bowels, to fertilize her seeds. She walked out still.

So your baby girl waits for you at your crib, with a baby bump, while you’re seated at the park trying to call your baibe who left you, trying to get her back. You’re texting your baibe, “Jill, can we talk??” But Jill doesn’t want to talk. Jill doesn’t want to put up with you. And your baby girl is in your crib, she lies there, her stomach crumping and all that. She aches, and lies silently sobbing, clutching on the pillow, holding them so hard, knowing that any minute from then you’ll come home, and you’ll take her to a health care centre. She holds on as she writhes in agony. But you don’t show up, you trying to call Jill, but Jill keeps on hanging up. And your baby girl reaches to her phone and gives you a call, you see the incoming call expecting to be Jill, but it’s your baby girl, so you duck it with a side snare. She calls you again and it’s all the same. Thrice, four times and even more, and it’s all the same, you duck them with a side snare. You sit at the park, thinking about Jill. And the mistake you did 8 months ago. Before you sigh even more, a text comes through, from your baby girl, it reads, “Phill, please, come home it hurts, it’s bleeding, I need your help..” But in that moment you do not care. You trying to act cold so that she can leave. When she leaves you thinking about getting Jill back to the crib.

So after hours elapses, let’s say 2 hours or even more, you shot up, heading home with a heavy head, and a broken heart. Jill didn’t come through. As you get to your crib, you find the door opened ajar, you push it, and as you make your way in, you notice spots of blood on the floor. You stand aside, turning around to see if someone is behind you, but you’re just alone. As you tiptoe in, you call her name, “Sam..?” You call the name of your baby girl, “Samantha…?” But she doesn’t respond. On the bed there’s blood too, it’s all messy, the pillow cases are thrown to the floor, Samantha’s phone lies on the floor, there’s no sign of her. And you ain’t even scared. You thinking she just bled a bit, then chose to leave to a friend. Somehow the thought gives you relief.

“What sort of a man are you??” A feminine shouts behind you, as you turn to look, you see her standing on the doorstep, a grown woman, who is your neighbour. Before you can even speak back, she says, “your girlfriend has been taken to the hospital, and you better head there right now!”

You didn’t even think, didn’t even blink, you find yourself in a mat heading to the hospital. Because your life has drastically change and you have nothing else to think about, nothing else to do. At exactly 11:30pm you get to the hospital’s receptionist, trying to find out if Samantha was brought in. She tells you indeed she was brought in hours ago, and directs you to where, some sort of a maternity ward. You get there and no emotions is ridden on your face. You’re just lukewarm, like you have dead cells. The docs tell you you can’t see her any moment from now, till tomorrow. You ask why, they tell you some sort of labour pains and shits that you weren’t ready for. Things that you have no interest to hear. So you wait as you sleep in the waiting area.

After a long restless sleep in the waiting area, she wakes you up, “good morning, are you Phill? ” the nurse, with a furtive smile on her lips asks politely, “morning too, yes I am..” you reply back as you get on your feet. “Your presence is required in ward room 6.” So you make strides to the room, where you find a doctor holding up a baby, effortlessly trying to quiet it down to no vain. The doctor notices you, and comes towards you, with the baby crying, “Hey man, you the father..???”

You mumble some words, it’s inaudible, some sort of a yes, no, I don’t know, kind of an answer. But before you make it clear, the doc gives you the baby, as you stretch out your hands to hold it, you feel uncomfortable, but as soon as you have it under your arms and pull it close, the baby feels comfortable, it quiets down, all the cries fades, and it brings tears to your eyes, the doc stares so ardently at the two of you, she says, “that’s what we call the magic of a father….” and in that sane moment, as you stare at what you helped to bring to life, smiling with all those tears budding, finally you say. “Yes, I’m the father”. It feels so good.

“It’s a baby girl by the way, her mom chose to name her Denise, Denise Phillips..”

“Hello Denise, nice to meet you. ” you say smiling, “can I see the mother…??”

(Silence, the doctor and the nurse exchange looks)