THE END AS IT CAME-3

THE END AS IT CAME-3

Rony Brown

Episode three

 

 

“I think it’s time we give little Armah her name.” my husband announces grandly; his voice an octave higher than it usually is. He is anxious I can tell. He wants to asses my mood after leaving the whole day for work. Well, there was a time that I would have jumped at this offer and poured out all sorts of names that would make any birth certificate proud.

But things have changed. Ever since…

“Let’s name her Courage Armah.” I say wistfully. I try to match his pseudo excitement. He sighs sadly, suddenly overcome by the whole charade. I can hear him walk towards the window where I sit.  He kneels in front of me and earnestly looks at me. I am suddenly overcome with shame and bury my face with tears streaming through my fingers.

“Hey,hey… It’s alright. It’s all in the past now. It’s all in the past.”

I don’t know why, but his words get me angry.

“Don’t lie to me. He said he’d be back.”

***

Over the past months, we’ve had this same conversation in a million different ways. And I know he's getting tired of telling me the same thing over and over again.

He takes in a deep breathe; possibly stealing himself. The two of us cannot be in a dark place at the same time.

He walks out on me and walks to the next room. Whatever for? O yes, little Armah!

“What the hell, Sandra!” My husband never cusses and definitely not at me. I turn nonchalantly to face him. He’s holding little Armah to his chest.

“Have you changed her diaper today? Have you even bathed her? Darn,” he feels her tummy, “has she even eaten today?”

I return my gaze to the window. I think I heard something move. Is he here already? I see a shadow dash into the garden.

“Dan, Dan! He’s here!” Panic stricken I take to my heels. Dan puts little Armah down and tries to hold me down. I slide out of his grasp and bolt for the main door. I am not going to let that murderer get to my family.

Why is my husband chasing me? Can’t he see we are in danger?

I start descending down the stairs; I miss a step. Whoa, for a moment there I believe I am flying but then I plunge down, head first unto one step then another. Before I plunge into any more steps strong arms close around me and then all turns dark.

***

Mr. Armah is caressing my face and humming softly. He has a nice humming voice. But Dan never hums. What am I turning my husband into? I turn to my side and the salty streams flow without restraint.

He climbs the bed and in a minute he’s by my side. He’s kissing my back, softly. My trouble and tension melts. He plunges his tongue into the dimple at my back and desire soars in my gut. I moan.

On her usual cue, Little Armah lets out a lusty cry. I throw my head back and laugh; everything is definitely back to normal.

I grab my morning coat and go and attend to her. Wow, little Armah really needs that bath. I quickly draw up a bath.

“Your father and I are definitely going to call you Courage.” I cooed at little Armah. Courage! That word spirals my memory to a dark place. The court sessions.

***

“Since the videos were conveniently destroyed how do we even know that you are not the culprit?” Terry has hired the best and dirtiest lawyer in the city. So far it looks like he is doing a great job. His lawyer was trying to pin the murder on me.

“How dare you say such a thing to me? There are over twenty witnesses who say your client killed Mr. Ghartey and…” I was screaming on top of my voice now. This lawyer was doing a good job at irritating me in the witness box.

“And over twenty witnesses also say that they are sure my client, Terry did not do it!” He interjected, “Let me ask you something Mrs. Armah, do you think Mr. Ghartey will rob a bank if he can afford to hire a lawyer like me? Do you know how much I charge for my quid pro quo? Hundred thousand cedis for every hour on a case. So tell me why would he rob a bank?” He smiled cockily. I felt stupid. He got me thinking. Was the robber really Terry?    

I stammered. There was nothing I could say. But I knew what I saw. So I leaned forward and looked him in the eye and told him just that.

“I know what I saw.”

“No need to be defensive Mrs. Armah. “  He said that and walked off. Before I could say another word he cut me off with a curt, “That will be all your honour.”

The lawyer defending the bank's face turned ashen and so did mine. Was this armed robber and murderer going to walk scot free because there was no evidence?

There was no gun and there were no videos from the surveillance cameras. Also, how on earth could he get twenty and over witnesses to admit to something as atrocious as this. Witnesses whom I risked my life to save. Worse of all, those witnesses were pointing their fingers at me.

“Can you recount what happened that day? Mind you any lie and you will be charged with perjury.” The state defender commanded.

She had the look of mistrust in her eyes. Even she? She doubts me! Am I not her star witness?

Well I did it to the best of my abilities. I don’t think it had any impact. But for a recording found on one on the phones I collected, Terry would have walked scot free and I would have been charged for the armed robbery and murder instead.

Quickly Terry’s defender changed his defense and got leagues of psychologists, psychiatrists, and experts to testify that having a wife on her death bed screaming out her husband’s name to save her can drive anyone to do crazy things. Terry’s lawyer was able to make the jury sympathize with Terry as he plead a new case of temporary insanity.

Temporary insanity my foot!

He was charged with five years in an asylum. Although he could be released after a psyche evaluation that shows that he won’t be of any more danger.

I was horrified. Terry could be released any day without me even knowing it

And how can I forget his words as he was handcuffed and taken away.

“Your end will come!”

***

“Sandra!” My husband’s voice reaches me through the wall of my reverie, “The baby!”

The baby what? I followed his gaze.

“O my God!”

How long has my baby been in the water? She’s not moving! O God! I drowned my baby.

Mr. Armah quickly picks my baby from the bath. With one hand he performs a CPR on her. I am numb. I killed my own child.

Mr. Armah stops the CPR and turns a shattering and burning gaze at me. It sears my conscience.

Almost immediately little Armah spatters, coughs and begin to cry. My husband holds her to his chest. I try to hold her too but Dan moves away from my reach.

“You are never, and I mean never, going to lay your hands on my daughter again. It’s either you pack your bags or I pack mine. Tommorow I will get the lawyers to draw up the divorce papers.”

Little Armah’s cries  pick up pace and gradually becomes unbearable. My husband throws one last shattering look my way and walk out of the bathroom and out of my life.