Chapter Three

“Hey girl!” Sheila called as she let herself into the small brownstone. No one had answered the doorbell, so she guessed Amaliah was either cooking or cleaning and didn’t hear it ring. 

She went through the small hallway and stopped briefly in puzzlement when she noticed that everywhere was dark. The curtains were drawn and a putrid smell hit her nostrils. 

Clothes, toys and stuff littered every corner, and the kitchen was in worse condition. There were several pots of burnt food on the counter, dirty dishes piled high and all the cabinets were open, with the contents haphazardly fit into them, as if someone had hurriedly shoved them in. 

Sheila's face registered shock. Amaliah was the neatest and most organized person she had ever had the honor of knowing, so this scene in front of her eyes meant something was terribly wrong. She hurried to Amaliah’s room but didn’t find her there. 

“Amaliah! Where are you girl!?” Sheila called out, her voice sounding more frantic this time. Had their house been burgled? she wondered, hurrying through the house.

She barged into the girls’ room and turned on the lights but her friend was not there. She paused for a moment. Maybe in an impromptu moment of frustration, Amaliah had decided to stay over at her parents’ house for a while, hence the absence of people in the house. 

But even as she thought of the possibility of that happening, she knew that Amaliah barely liked asking for help. She was stubborn as a mule, and would rather keep mute and starve than ask for help. She also knew her friend would never leave her house so unkempt and worse, open, such that anyone could come in and take anything they wanted. Even if they lived in one of the safest neighborhoods in the city, Amaliah was still a security-conscious person. 

Just then, she heard a whimper from the third room which was across the girls’ room. She opened the door slowly and turned on the lights. 

Her jaw dropped at the sight in front of her. A figure was curled up on the floor, shoulders heaving. She was whimpering softly, like a puppy that had been beaten half to death.

“Amaliah? Oh my God, are you okay, girl? What is wrong, Amaliah? Are the girls okay? Did something happen?” Sheila rushed over to her side.

“Go away. Turn off the lights.” Amaliah said in a low, dull voice, her face turned to the wall. Taking a closer look, Sheila saw that she was clutching one of Rafael’s shirts to her chest.

“No, you already know from years of being friends with me, that I’m not going anywhere. What’s going on with you, Amaliah? Where are the girls, Pedro and Fat Louie? Are they okay?”

Silence greeted her questions. A hopeless feeling of despair and helplessness washed over her and left her weak-kneed. She wanted to cry, bawl and weep at the sight of her friend, who was tightly enclosed in the firm grip of grief and depression all over again. She desired to know what to do next, but it seemed like her friend didn’t want to be rescued. It seemed like Amaliah had dug a hole and was now sitting comfortably in its darkness.

“Go away, Sheila. I want to be alone.” Amaliah spoke up again, but she still didn’t turn her face.

“Listen, girl, I’m sorry. I know I said I was going to be here two weeks ago to help you apply for jobs but I couldn’t make it. I tried to get out of the work engagement but my boss put his foot down. I called you and you said it was okay. Why didn’t you ever tell me something was wrong? What if your mom hadn’t called me today?”

Sheila sat on the cluttered, dirty floor and sobbed. Amaliah sobbed quietly with her, and they sobbed for a long time. Finally, Amaliah turned around and Sheila sobbed harder. Her beautiful hair was wild, matted, tangled, dirty and her terry cloth robe reeked of sweat and tears. It looked like she had been wearing it for days on end.

"What's wrong, Amaliah? Why are you pushing me away? I want to be there for you as you have always been for me. Talk to me. Where are the girls? Did something happen? Is it the loan sharks? I thought they gave you two months to pay up." 

Amaliah shook her head slowly, a trickle of tears running down her cheeks. There was more silence.

“The girls are with my parents. So is Fat Louie and Pedro,” she said eventually.

Sheila heaved a sigh of relief and scooted even closer to Amaliah who was still laying on the floor with Rafael's shirt clutched to her chest. 

“So what exactly is wrong, girlfriend? I thought we were past this at least.”

Amaliah looked away. After some time, she swallowed hard and looked up at Sheila. Her red, raw eyes mirrored her grief and pain and disappointment and hurt. 

“Lately, I’ve not felt the will to live.”

Sheila closed her eyes in pain. She knew what was wrong, but it hurt to hear her best friend admit it.

“I don't know what has been propelling me along, but I feel like I've finally come to the end of the road. I can't live anymore, Sheila. It has become too hard to wake up every morning. It is excruciating to sleep in our room alone. I die a little when the girls remember something about their daddy." She said, shaking her head in despair.

"My heart weeps because everything has gone terribly wrong, Sheila. My life, my world, the one I felt safe in, is gone. My protective shield is gone. I've been exposed to the harsh realities of life without Rafael and it's threatening to suck me into its depth. I want to let go, I want to float in the clouds and see his smile and know that I'm safe once again." 

There was a painful silence after this revelation. Needles of pain seemed to pierce their chests. Sheila winced.

"Well, you can't let go Liah. You can't float in the clouds. You can see his smile though, in your memories. The many memories you made together for the past six years. But that's just about it because you have the girls." Sheila reminded her.

"I'm sorry to say this, my friend, but you have turned a blind eye to the fact that they miss their father too. They're just four, and they have had to deal with grief. If it's so unbearable for you, have you thought about how it is for them?"

She could see the emotions in Amaliah's eyes; first surprise, then pain, then the determination that quickly came and went. 

"Well, I'll take your silence to mean you haven't thought about it. Well, you need to. You must actually, because you're creating a bridge between yourself and the girls, when all they want from you is a hug, probably relive memories together and be there for them. They need you, Amaliah, and I’m sorry but you don't have a choice here."

"They'll be fine with my parents. They adore their Nana and Gramps. You'll be there for them too, I know you will." 

"No, they won't and you know it. Do you want them to be orphans? Do you realize how bad it sounds? A few months after losing their father, they'll lose their mother too. How will they feel? You need to put their feelings into consideration. You're not a selfish person, you've never been so don't start now. The girls need you. Don't push them away. Destroy the bridge you've built in between them. Now, before it's late."

"You don't understand Sheila. I. CAN'T. DO. IT. ANYMORE. I can't do it on my own. I can't wake up in the morning and go through our morning routine without him. I can't begin to look for a job to pay this heavy loan when I know it's practically impossible. What's the point of all these? What is the point of life, if all we do is work like dogs, use the money and work some more? Suffering, hunger, despair. You tell me, Sheila, because I am honestly tired. I don’t have my partner with me anymore. My best friend, the one that was supposed to go through life with me forever."

There was another painful wave of silence.

Just then, she slumped back on the floor, her eyes rolling back in her head. The color in her cheeks was receding fast, and she was becoming as pale as a ghost. Sheila scrambled up immediately and lifted Amaliah's head. 

She grabbed a pillow from the bed and put it underneath her back, such that her head was tilted back. She threw open the curtains and pushed open the windows to let the fresh air in. 

She put her cheek near her friend’s mouth to check if she was breathing and checked for a pulse by placing two fingers below her jaw. She proceeded to give her friend CPR and tried to stay as calm as possible even as tears rolled down her cheeks. A few minutes later, Amaliah came to, spluttering. She was still very pale and weak, but she started to cry and sheila simply held her and let her cry. 

“I’m tired. I'm so tired. Bills, debts, having to go through life with this grief that is eating me up. I don’t know if I can go on."

"You can, my love. You can, you will and I'll be holding your hand every step of the way. It'll all work out, darling. I promise."

"Where will I start from, Sheila?" 

"We’ll figure that out, don’t worry. For now, there are a couple of things we must do first."

She stood up and pulled her friend up with her. Amaliah was weak, and could barely walk on her own. Fresh tears sprung to Sheila's eyes. The first thing was to get her friend out of this depressing room. She needed a little sun. 

“Come on, girl. I'll make you a cup of coffee and some food, so why don’t you brush your teeth and take a bath if you can?” 

"Okay. I think I can do it." 

Sheila led her out of the guest room and into the master bedroom and helped her sit on the bed so she could gain a little energy before she took a bath, then ran a warm bath for her.

Getting to the kitchen, Sheila groaned as she took in the mess properly. She managed to clear a part of it to quickly make scrambled eggs and bacon for Amaliah, to go with toast and a cup of coffee. The refrigerator and cabinets were almost empty, which meant they had very little groceries. She sighed. It was hard seeing her friend so helpless. 

She was done cooking and was doing the dishes when Amaliah walked into the kitchen. She had taken a bath and taken off the smelly, ratty terry cloth robe. She was now wearing denim shorts and a plain white t-shirt. She had also managed to brush her hair a little and secured it with a ponytail. 

“Now sit and have some food while I try to clean this place up. We have to get you to the hospital.”

“I'm not hungry Sheila. I don't want to eat anything." Amaliah said, pushing the plate back. “And I’m fine, I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m just a little tired.”

Sheila tossed the sponge into the sink and stood arms akimbo, glaring at amaliah.

“Okay, okay I’ll eat.” Amaliah sighed and scooped up eggs onto her toast. A wave of nausea hit her but she clamped it down. She didn’t want to offend her friend. She ate while Sheila did the week-old dishes, and there was no conversation, just companionable silence.

“So if you didn’t have time before, how come your boss let you go this time around?” Amaliah asked, looking up at Sheila with an innocent face.

Sheila sighed as she dried off the last plate and started wiping down the counter. She knew it was a snide remark, but she also knew she needed to cut her friend some slack. She dried her hands and sat beside Amaliah.

“First off love, it was an international conference, the biggest one of the year and I’m his secretary. There was no wiggling out of that one. Secondly, you know how many queries I’ve received over the past months. I’ll never get promoted if I continue like this, and you know how much I need that promotion. You’re my best friend, I love you and you’re more important than any job but if I keep my job it’ll be a lot easier to help you. Plus, he let me go because the conference is over and I have a one-week leave.”

“I’m sorry, Sheila.” Amaliah looked somber. She dropped her fork and leaned back. “You’ve been a great friend for the past three months and I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. I owe you plenty.”

“You owe me nothing. Now, why don’t you get a coat or jacket and let’s go to the hospital? You need a check-up, trust me.” She added when Amaliah started to shake her head. “So they can at least give you something to help you sleep for the next few days while the girls are away. Besides, you slumped. That can’t be good.”

“My account and even insurance can’t carry any hospital or health-related bills, Sheila.” Amaliah sighed for the umpteenth time.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have a fairy godmother named Sheila, so let’s go.”

They drove to the hospital which both their parents had used for years and in which the twins had been born. A nurse took her blood, urine and spittle samples while Sheila waited outside.

“Please wait outside while we run a series of tests. The doctor would like to see you when the results are out.” the pretty brunette nurse told them with a smile.

They sat in the waiting room for the next two hours, flipping through magazines. Finally, Amaliah was called back into the consulting room.

“Hello, Ms Rivers. I’m sorry about the death of your husband. Please accept my condolences.”

Amaliah smiled weakly. She just wanted to hear that she was in good condition, or maybe a little malnourished but nothing more.

“Well, Ms Rivers, I'll get straight to the point. As you know, we ran some tests and it turns out you’re malnourished, your sugar is low and you have high blood pressure. You need to take better care of yourself, Amaliah. I’d like you to bring the girls to the pediatric clinic for a checkup as well. It looks like you haven’t been eating well, which isn’t good.”

“I’ve been having a hard time, but I'll do better. My friend Sheila will bring the girls around. Is that all, doc?”

“I’m afraid not, Ms Rivers. I have a few more questions. How would you describe your sexual life before the passing of your husband?”

Amaliah sighed. “We had sex more often than regular, doc. We had a very active sexual life.”

The doctor blushed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Have you noticed any unusual changes in your body over the past weeks?”

“I’ve been physically tired a lot, but I simply thought it was as a result of the stress, physical and mental fatigue of the past weeks.”

“Well, I'm afraid not, Amaliah. The nurse told me you have had a period delay for months now. Why didn’t you come to the hospital?”

“I wasn’t paying attention and hadn’t really noticed it until she asked me this morning.”

“The delay with your period isn’t only as a result of stress. I mean, stress isn’t the only factor. It may seem as though you are fourteen weeks and five days pregnant, Ms Rivers.”

“Excuse me?”