51 - Never Truly Apart

“Aaaaaaaaah!” Came the scream loudly, piercing the quiet of the relatively peaceful hallway.
I shrunk back with my hands to my ears, having gotten the full impact of my best friend’s excitement. Deola was a screamer, she had always been. I wanted to kick myself then. I realized a little too late that I should have chosen a less populated spot on campus to present my bestie with the surprise I had for her. While Deola busied herself delightfully eyeing the tickets, I pleaded with my eyes with those who now casted mean glances towards us, looking like they wanted to burn the noisemaker at the stake. Thankfully, the stares did not linger too long. I turned to look at Deola and the exhilarated look on her face told me she was completely oblivious to the stares that her screaming had attracted. It amazed me sometimes how I was always the one easily embarrassed by people’s attention, but I had never known Deola, in all the nine years we had been best friends, to give a rat’s ass about that.
She turned to me, gushing; “Oh I can’t believe you got these for me...for us!” Without warning, she grabbed me in a tight hug.
“Well, I know how much you love Chris Brown and how, since you heard he would be performing live in Lagos, you haven’t allowed me to hear word…the concert is still two weeks away and tickets weren’t sold out yet so I figured, why not?” I managed to say, as I felt Deola’s hug getting a bit tighter. “Wow, you’re crushing my spine…Deola! I yelped, forcing her to release me. The time was 2:47pm. We were on our way to the hostel; we had just concluded a two-hour class on Law of Contracts.
As we walked down the hallway along with other law students, we were greeted by the cool breeze which was a plus for the University, ideally situated near a considerable large body of water. I had been told once, though I had never seen it myself, that one could see Third Mainland Bridge from the towering Senate House building. It was definitely one of those things I hoped to behold before graduating with my law degree, in the year 2019.
Presently, my stomach yearned for something else which I knew I wouldn’t have to wait so long to have – doughnuts. I had been craving them since morning and now my body, spirit and soul were free to make a beeline for Mrs. Banjoko’s shop.
Anyway, before long, my legs had transported me to where my mind had travelled hours before, and Deola and I were seated at one of the tables at Mrs. Banjoko’s shop.
We treated ourselves to some doughnuts and soft drinks. A chair was pulled up noisily somewhere beside us. I turned to see two guys seated at a table to my right. It was hard to miss a single word of what they were saying, they spoke like they were the only two around.
“Guy, so you think say I dey joke? My friend, Tony, told me yesterday that something similar happened in that hotel that he works in or rather…used to work in.” “Which Tony is that?” the other guy asked, sounding a bit uninterested. “Tony now, the guy that I told you was working in Bluebell Hotel now, the one in Lekki.” “Ehn… what did he tell you?” the other one asked, his tone laced with derision. “He was on room service duty about three nights ago, and something that has never happened in that hotel before happened that night.” I watched Deola roll her eyes and mouth the words; “Story, story.” which made me grin widely and take a bite of the doughnut in my hand. It was all I could do to stop myself from laughing. The guy went on; “Tony told me the phone rang exactly three times that night between the hours of ten o’clock and twelve midnight. Each time Tony answered, it was the same female voice on the other end and do you know what she said every single time?”
Even though I could hear his words loud and clear, I felt my ears strain to the right.
“She said; “Please help me! I can’t get out of here!!” and when Tony asked her where she was, she said…” I swallowed the piece of doughnut I had bitten without chewing it.
“…Room 101c.” The next words sliced the silence that followed those two words like a hot knife through butter.
“They have no such room in that hotel.” As if on cue, Deola and I turned to look in their direction. The second guy who had been quiet all the while mirrored the looks on both our faces. The thought was in my head but not until the words were uttered, did I know that they had come from my mouth.
“You’re joking right?” The guy who had been talking, turned in my direction, looked momentarily stunned that I had butted in, but recovered quickly and in the calmest tone he had used since his first words at that table, said; “I’m not.”
“Well, that’s… really weird.” his friend said, taking a sip of his drink. “So what did Tony do?” Deola asked, obviously as interested as I was. “Well after taking a walk round severally to confirm that there indeed was no such room in the hotel…Tony made up his mind that he could no longer work in that hotel and the next morning he resigned. Of course the management felt the incident was all a crazy figment of his imagination. And so did I, until I read about a similar experience of someone else in another hotel in another part of Lagos.” “Wow!” Deola looked genuinely shaken, and so did the other guy, but me, I had never been a strong believer in the supernatural or such unexplainably crazy things happening and frankly, this “horror” story was not enough to convert me. I looked down at the nylon in front of me, noted it was empty, as was the coke bottle beside it, then I stood up. Well, it was an entertaining story, if nothing else. I was ready to head to the hostel now. Deola and I walked to the hostel in silence, except to say bye. It was exactly 3:31pm when we parted ways and went to our different rooms. My roommate who was a biological engineering student was nowhere in sight which meant I had the room all to myself. In spite of my semi-full stomach, I slumped on the bed and just spread my arms wide, staring at the white ceiling. There were no more classes for the day, so I was totally free till the next. Room 101c…What a load of…
My phone’s ringtone suddenly rang out in the air filling the room with Adekunle Gold’s ‘Pick up’. I opened my eyes, the room had a shade, had I fallen asleep? I looked at the screen, it was my mum calling.
“Hello mum…” “Patricia…” I knew immediately that something was wrong. Mum never called me by my full name, she had always called me Patty for as long as I could remember. I sat upright. “Mum, what’s wrong?” “It’s your brother, he’s …in critical condition in the hospital. He has been asking of you.” “What do you mean in critical condition mum, what’s wrong with Patrick? What happened?!” I could feel my heart racing as I waited for an answer. “Patrick was in an accident… he was …” I could hear my mum struggling to hold back tears. I cut the call. If my twin brother was in critical condition in another part of the country and was asking for me, what was I still doing here? The last time I saw Patrick was about six months ago before the start of the new school year. He was his normal troublesome self, so full of life, and also about to enter second year at Obafemi Awolowo University in Osun State. Patrick was studying law as well but we had both agreed to attend different universities. After all we had been together all our lives, inseparable in fact, throughout primary and secondary school. As I grabbed a few useful things and hurriedly stuffed them into my handbag, I realized just how unreasonable that decision was now. My eyes darted to the clock, it was quarter to six...how time had flown! I ran out of the room, I would have to look for a direct bus to Ife from Lagos. As I ran like I had never run before, I kept praying that I would find one. On getting to the bus station, that was not to be the case; I would have to settle for a bus to Ibadan first, then from there I would get to Ife. As I sat on the bus, I felt those were the slowest hours of my life. When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the bus I was in suddenly encountered holdup. It was discovered that a few kilometers ahead, two other buses had collided and though no lives had been lost, both buses were in bad condition and had blocked the road, hence the holdup. I saw the holdup stretching for hours and I felt like crying. I couldn’t sit there, I just couldn’t. I paid the bus driver for how far he had gotten me and amidst what sounded like words of concern for my safety, I alighted the bus and proceeded to walk to the nearest bus station where I could board a bus that would take me to Ife. I walked a while after asking for direction as to where I could find a bus. According to those I asked I was not far from one, but when it seemed like I had walked forever and there was none in sight, I took out my phone and called my mum to ask after Patrick. She told me he was still in critical condition. He had undergone an operation hours ago and was still under observation. I told her my whereabouts and made her promise she would call me if anything changed. I felt for my mum, I was very sure she would not leave his side, she sounded a bit tired. I wished then by some stroke of luck, I could be transported to the hospital where my brother was.
Instead of a bus station, all I could see were hotels. It was a few minutes past nine. I reasoned that it was better to be in one of those buildings than out on a dark street.
So I got into a hotel named The White Hut, hoping to pass the night till I could actually get a bus to Ife. I walked up to the reception’s desk. A gangly looking woman stood there writing vigorously into a book in front of her. She looked rather unusual, she had a big forehead and eyes so small I half expected them to sink in and never come out again when she blinked. Also, she had a very masculine looking jaw.
“Good evening, I need a room please.” I didn’t bother to ask about the cost, I felt I had enough money in my bank account to cover it. Her eyes rose to meet mine. There was something in those eyes and the icy way she stared into mine that made me, for a second, consider running out. Finally, she spoke;
“Your name, please?” “Patricia Ogundele.” She scribbled something down, I don’t know what, and I wondered if she did either because her eyes never left mine. She stretched out her hand to the wall on her right and removed a key and handed it to me. It all looked so mechanical.
I hesitated, suddenly wondering why this hotel sounded so silent, like we were the only two in there. But I took the key, eying it suspiciously. I looked at the key card attached to it…my eyes widened. Room 101c.
“Wait, how…” I looked up, and to my horror, I was alone. No gangly looking figure with spooky eyes was standing in front of me anymore. For the first time since I heard the news of my brother’s accident, fear seized me and I wanted to run far away from that hotel, but something which I will never be able to explain kept me rooted to the spot. I looked at the key in my hand again and looked down the long narrow hallway which led farther into the hotel. What was in Room 101c? More out of curiosity than courage, I started to make my way to the room. Walking down the hallway which was lined on each side by white doors with numbers painted on them in gold, I looked at each one, not wanting to miss it. Finally I was almost at the end of the hallway when I saw it. Room 101c.
The door looked like every other one I had passed. My racing heart was by now a loud pounding in my ears. As I touched the door knob, I felt my heart stop. I opened the door. The room was empty…save for someone who sat in a chair which had its back to the door. I don’t know how or why, but I stepped into the room. Every wall had red tapestry, even the floor had a red carpet. It was like a scene out of an old English movie. The chair turned around. I could not believe my eyes.
It was Patrick.
He was dressed in black.
“Patrick, what are you doing here…but you’re?” “Yes I am and I came to say goodbye, Patricia.” “Goodbye?” “Goodbye.” He smiled at me but I just couldn’t get myself to smile back. We stared at each other for what felt like minutes, like he was giving me time to digest his words.
Then he stood up and turned away from me. It seemed like the room had suddenly become larger and Patrick started to walk in the opposite direction.
“Patrick, stop! Wait, where are you going? Come back!” I called out to him as I started to run after him. The distance between us started to get longer and longer. It was like a very bad dream. Suddenly the room got pitch black like someone had turned off all the lights, and I could no longer see a thing. I kept calling out to Patrick but I heard nothing. I felt another bout of terror about to seize me, when my phone rang. Suddenly all the lights were on again and I was in the hallway. It was surreal. Still in a daze, I retrieved my phone from my pocket. I looked at the caller ID. It was my mother.

• Written by Vicki Harrison