CHAPTER TEN: THE MYSTERY OF THE OAK

Kevin rolled over the linoleum, opening his eyes blearily to the overhead fan above, which was spinning—like a whisk. It is a sunny morning. Bright rays penetrated the neatly arranged room through drawn curtains. He sat up straight and stretched himself. Found relief in hearing his bones cracked.

Last night was perfect. He felt like that was the best sleep he’d had in a while. It was his first night in many weeks he didn’t have any nightmares or disturbing dreams about his past. He then realised he’d been lying on the floor and quickly got up. Turned to the table beside him and scooped the pills Cedric had given him.

It had to be the pill, he thought, looking over it. Whatever this was, I’m grateful to Cedric.

Then he looked up at the big clock on the wall.

10:32 am.                                  

His mouth fell open.

Shit, I overslept!

Hastily rolling out of bed, he walked over to the window and took the trash that lay beside the table, emptying it into the waste bin outside. He took his brush and stood in front of the mirror to clean his teeth. Then he went over to his bed to arrange the cotton sheet. 

He quickly changed into a clean towel and entered the bathroom for a quick shower. And when he was done, he walked to the door to glance at his to-do list, which was written on a little note and pinned to the door. 

He read through the list. “Grab some groceries, visit Mirabel and her mum at the park, pay Natasha a visit at the hospital, go to Pittsburgh bar.” 

“Wait, go to Pittsburgh bar?” he paused, giving it a second thought—recollecting what had transpired yesterday. “I don’t think so.”

He took out a pen and crossed it off. Then he moved away from the door, accidentally stepping on something in his path. He stopped to see what it was. His drawings. They were scattered all over the floor. He picked them up and spread them out on the table beside the window. His eyes were drawn to the drawing of three blackbirds sitting on an oak tree. He had fallen asleep last night trying to figure out what it meant. 

Kevin once again looked through the window, at the oak tree sitting outside, and then at the drawing. He compared them and found, much to his dismay, that they had similar markings on them. It was exactly the same tree from his dream. Just then, the door fell open and Landry walked right in.

“Landry, come look at this,” Kevin quickly called out to him. “Look, it’s the tree from my dream.” 

He was taken aback. “The one with the crows on it?”

“The one with the crows on it.” He yanked him to the window, pointing at the tree outside. “Here, have a look. It’s the same tree. It has the same markings on its body, just like the one from my dream.”

“Whoa!” Landry’s expression was positively wonder-struck as he took the drawing from him to scrutinize it. “You sure you didn’t draw this while looking at the tree.”

“C’mon man, you know me better than that. Why would I lie about this?”

He was silent, still overwhelmed by surprise.

“It’s funny though, this tree has been sitting here all this time, and I never for once noticed it—until last night.” 

Landry racked his brain for any clue about what it meant, and when he couldn’t draw any meaning from the painted picture coinciding with the tree outside, he asked, “Does Cedric know about any of this?”

“My sleeping trouble already bothers him. I don’t want to disturb him with any more of my problems.”

###

Natasha’s dad walked into the chancellor’s office, looking formal in a neatly ironed collared T-shirt, and polished shoes. 

“Mr President.” The chancellor quickly stood upon seeing him and offered a handshake.

“Please, just call me William.” He took his hand.

“A pleasure having you here in my office, sir.” 

“Likewise, Mr Georgery.”

The chancellor motioned for him to sit. And after William was seated, he turned to look at him, craning forward in his office chair—smiling. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having the president of TCU visit my office?”

“Actually,” William started off, “My daughter is a student here.”

He rose his brows. Clearly, he was unaware of this.

“Her name is Natasha—”

“Miss Natasha Martinez,” he interrupted, looking quite surprised. “You are her father? No wonder the resemblance is uncanny,” he cajoled. “She’s a really sweet girl, your daughter. You did a good job raising her.”

William preferred not to make any comment on the subject. Rather, he went straight to the point. “I’m here to beg a leave of absence from normal school activities on her behalf.” 

His request was met with a blank stare.

“I heard about what happened to Natasha,” Mac Georgery said, pressing his fingertips against each other and wearing a sympathetic look. “I am deeply moved with sympathy for what had happened—truly, I am. But, as you already know, we have certain laid out rules and regulations which must be strictly followed under any circumstances. One of which is regular attendance in class. If a student fails to maintain at least a seventy percent attendance record in class, then he or she will not be considered for—”

William was flooded with rage and confusion. “What you’re saying in essence is that my daughter should be wheeled down here from the hospital in her current predicament, every morning, to attend classes, just to maintain a perfect attendance record?”

Mac Georgery exhaled loudly in frustration. “Sir, you’ve misunderstood what I’m trying to say. My point is that—”

“Your point is that you cannot grant my daughter permission to be excused from college activities even for a short period simply because you don’t want to tarnish the attendance record of your college,” he interrupted him again.

For a moment, both men remained silent. The atmosphere in the room was becoming tense.

“How long will she be away?” Mac Georgery finally spoke, leaning back in his chair.

“A week.”

“A week?”

“Yes, a week and nothing more. But if she recovers before then, she’ll have to resume as soon as possible. You have my word.”

After a long comprehensible silence, Mac Georgery shot a glance at him. “A week it is then.” He turned away in defeat. “Is there any other thing I can do for you?”

“No, that will be all. Thank you!”