The Last Kiss

There i was sitting on a pew at the chapel, watching her get married to the supposed love of her life, a man with a clean shaven beard, which was an offence to the beard-gang nation. Just 3months ago i was the love of her life and now the story is all changed, i could not bear to watch, the more i looked into her eyes the more i had flashes of my immediate past. I stood up and walked out the chapel door. Just outside, the priest was done with the wedding ritual and whatever commitment needed to be done by the alter and the new couple were outside taking pictures with well wishers or so they seemed, i heard a familiar voice call my name, who else could it be but Tonia, the 1st thing i said to her was,

 'I still love you'.

 She asked why i was there, i told her,

 'Just to let you know I’ll always love you'.

Such powerful words huh? I know right, anyway as usual she warned me to stay away from her life and that I should make a promise to never look for her that she wanted a happy home and you know the rest of the babbles.

Oh i forgot to mention details about me, I'm just a regular pressman, what i mean is I'm a journalist, work for some crappy Nigerian news agency, that’s basically all there is about to know about me.

Tuesday morning while trying to piece the news together which i had gotten the previous week and forward it to the editor, i stumbled upon an obituary that was about to be published, familiar face i said to myself, where have i seen this face before? Could not seem to place a finger on it, i skipped and looked down to the funeral arrangement and to see if i could get any relevant information about him, saw that he was survived by a wife and 2kids and the venue for all the burial ish. To cut the long story short i assumed he was Tonia's husband, i laughed, the last time i saw her was at a wedding and now I'm planning to go for a funeral just to see her again? Mixed feelings, did not know if i was to be happy or sad? that the guy she dumped me for was now dead, should i call her up laughing? i felt like a prick at the thought of that. Just over 5years ago she dumped with a note and her wedding invitation card, what a chance life has given me for payback, so i imagined.

I arrived at the funeral uninvited once again, a desperate pest i must really be, tried to pull a poor man's disguise, sat down and listen to people praise the late husband and all, that was boring to me, why was i really there? If i could mock up a wife an a kid it would be a perfect payback at this scenery, and many other mischievous thoughts kept crossing my mind, every eye in the chapel seemed wet except mine, so i got a little saliva and rubbed it on my eye just to blend in.

Eulogy upon eulogy, until a teenager was called out, to my amazement he was the late husband's son. I looked around for a recognizable new widow, but no sign of her. When the service was over and it was time for the body to be moved to its final resting place, I saw a lady and two kids get in the car, with mourners all around, tried to get a glimpse of her face but it wasn’t a familiar face, or not the person I was hoping to see, i began to question myself if i was at the right funeral or not? I left the funeral after making a few enquiries; found out that he was shot and murdered in cold blood. I never did ask or pay attention to his last name at the wedding, i drew up another assumption maybe he had married Tonia secretly or something that's why she could not make an appearance at the funeral.

I thought how else I could reach Tonia at least to offer my condolence, then I came across her sister's phone number, we had spoken a few times over the phone. I called and it proved abortive, she claimed not to know who I was and gave a stern warning that i should never call back. That act raised my curiosity level an all-time high, I had become an undercover/detective/007 all in one, I went online to see if the social media or google search had something on her but nothing, so i took the time out to go visit places we had visited together just to see if they had any recent update on her. During my search for answers i went to chapel where she had gotten married to her now assumed to be late husband, the priest was still the same, oh how i was glad, finally someone with an answer, i approached him and to my uttermost shock he said he never officiated such Ceremony before, we went through the chapel records, i remember the date like it was my dob, but we found nothing.

After i left the chapel, i made a few calls to see if i could source for help from friends and colleagues who were good at digging up people from the underground, because the task was seeming a tougher task than I had imagined.

Sunday evening as i was doing my routine checks and gathering all the information i needed to submit to my editor the next day, i got a mail from a spam like email address, normal reaction was to ignore and delete, but since it had no subject and i know I'm in dire need of answers concerning Tonia's whereabouts i clicked and opened it, to my amazement it contained just 4words that pierced through my heart: ‘YOU MADE A PROMISE’. I quickly hit the reply button asking if she was ok, waited patiently for a reply from her, instead i got a reply from maildaemon saying the address doesn't exist, i reclined on my seat shattered.

But wait how did i even meet Tonia? Let me not bother you all with the details of how we me: truth be told it was in a real cliché manner nothing spectacular to the meet asides from the fact that the sun was at its best that particular day, when i saw a nigerian young lady use an umbrella, i looked to check her behind, not what you thinking, but to see if she was carrying a baby on her back or there if was an actual need for the appearance. I was at the police station trying to gather information about a crime that had occurred and the police did solve, while she was there to get a police report on a missing ID card. I've always had my way with ladies and my friends knew me for that, so it wasn't so complicated getting Tonia to be my heartbreak kid. Basically that's how we met and began dating for about 3months that was from March till a day before she was about to get married in June.

My investigations continued, this is a classic case of a journalist turned detective, i won't admit it but the truth is I'm doing this for love. Sitting at a bar with a few friends: Erat was a professor at a Nigerian University, Ricky was let just a random guy who could pull strings here and there, Enil was a retired detective, yes we have Nigerian detectives at least they are paid for that. Erat then asked me why i never introduced her to any of them all i kept doing was talking about her to them every time we met, but they never met her in person, why was that? Enil was quick to draw up conclusion that possibly she did not exist, since i was the only one who knew about her existence, even the priest that officiated at the ceremony did not know her. I was distraught took a lot of convincing for them to agree to join me in the search of course not without a promise of a little favour in return.

Thursday night i was at a bar to watch soccer match, Europa league, won't bother you with the details or information about soccer. I stayed there till it was a tad bit late, because i could not come to terms with the fact that the girl i once dated for 3months and saw get married had suddenly become a ghost. I left the bar at about 11:25, then it happened, i was kidnapped by 3men who were armed. Long story short i was buzzed, i was wondering what's going on here? Was it the fact that i refused to keep to my promise of staying away?, the very first thing I was going to say in my defence was ‘I won’t search anymore’. The first guy gave me dirty slap sort of bringing me out of my thoughts.

 He asked 'where is Tonia?'

I was stunned!

 Such a question. Another slap to my face and a few curse words.

I responded with 'I've no clue'.

The slap seemed to have been in my favour because the alcohol began to clear from my eye and my thinking was getting a bit straight, too many movies watched and stories heard, i felt if i could pull a few stunts I'd be able to get out of the car probably with a few bruises. I fought my way through, i was stuck in the middle of two guys at the back seat, at least my hands were not tied, though they had guns on them, I figured they needed me alive, i went straight for the driver with a big punch to he's head, that was good enough to knock him off balance, car began to swerve, which gave me ample time to dodge the nozzle of the 9mm pistol heading straight for my head, used my elbow to jab the guy to my left who had the gun on him, his gun fell to the floor of the car, now all three of us at the back seat were struggling to get the gun, I was getting punched from the guy on my right, but I was determined to get off that car anyway I could, I somehow managed to get the door opened, pushed the guy close to the door out and I jumped after him, rolled on the coal tar, and almost got my head squashed by an oncoming vehicle but the other guy wasn’t so lucky. They never stopped, a Good Samaritan took me home, I had sustained a broken arm and few bruises from my face down to my feet. I called the office the next day after I was done with the hospital to inform them of my ordeal, I was given permission from the office to stay at home and get better.

For a fact, i knew i saw Tonia get married to Payne, now a certain Payne is dead, if it’s the same guy Tonia got married to? I don't know. I got in contact with Payne's widow (not Tonia) i told her that i wanted to have an interview with her, i reckon her husband was well known and she would have a lot of things she wanted millions of people out there to know about Mr Payne. it wasn't difficult to convince her, and since I’m a journalist for a reputable newspaper. She agreed and a date was fixed, venue was their private residence.

Perfect! I thought to myself.

 I got to the residence right on time, i had a thing for keeping to time and due to the importance of this interview, i had no reason to be a minute late. I got in, she was the only one at home all the kids have returned back to school after their dad's funeral arrangement were done with. She welcomed me properly as an African woman offered me strong eba and Okro, i declined politely for fear that the food might be too heavy and I'd probably lose concentration. Here i was with a widow who has not fully recovered from the death of her husband and the only question I'm eager to ask is

'How did he die?'

I was trying to compose myself and put the words in the right way to avoid being thrown out,

She then asked,

 'Can we begin?

‘Where is your pen and your notepad?'

I replied by suggesting we make it a bit less formal that way she'd be more comfortable and at ease, she was fine with that. I muttered some words, then she completed it for me by saying,

 'You mean how did he die?'

 I nodded.

 'It wasn't a robbery, they did not take anything from us, but they hurt him, real bad, kept hurting him like they were trying to force an information out of him and when he won’t give in they...   ',

She paused,

I saw that she was weak and her lips had begun shaking i wanted to move closer to offer solace but that won't be appropriate, i changed the question and asked what he did for a living,

‘He was a doctor, he travelled a lot to help out poor kids in other parts of Africa, giving free treatment and attending conferences’

Next question,

'Where was your husband 5years ago around may/june?'

She said he travelled to Ghana, as was his yearly tradition, for medical conferences. I told her i knew her husband,

‘Personally?’ she asked,

‘No and Yes’ I replied,

‘Can you describe him?’

Of course not, I could not accurately describe him, my description was faulty, as he had a different look on the day he was getting married to Tonia, he had a clean shave, which was different from how he looked every other day, the pictures of him I saw around the house he kept his beards at a decent level.

She then asked

‘Where did you ever met him?’

'At a wedding to my ex-girlfriend'

She was stunned!

‘That can't be possible!’ she exclaimed.

 She got a tissue to wipe her tears, as tears were slowly trickling down her eyes, she asked me to walk out the door, that the interview was over and she doesn't think she's ready for this. As a gentleman i stood up, but as i got close to the door, about to turn the door handle i saw a picture frame on the wall with something like a ‘thank you’ message on it. I turned back to ask about the frame,

She responded casually,

'He got it from one he's patient'

 ‘Can I take a look at it?’

‘Sure, you can’

I got close to the frame, i saw Tonia's signature right at the bottom of the frame. I immediately informed her,

‘That’s my ex-girlfriends signature and that i bet she was the one who gave the frame to your late husband’

She slumped on her seat for there was no strength left in her.

 I decided to try once more to get in touch with Tonia's sister, but this time around not via phone, but to actually go there in person. I got there, when she saw me at the door, i asked,

‘Are you still going to continue to act like you don’t know or remember me?’........ to be continued

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