SCENE SEVEN
INT. BEDROOM OF THE ALAKIJA’S. NIGHT
We see ENIOLA in her nightdress; her hair covered with a hair net. Her large eye balls roams devotedly through her reading glasses onto the laptop sitting on a reading table in front of her.
THOMAS, her husband on the other hand, is busy ironing his clothes at the extreme part of the room.
The atmosphere is relaxing as a slow music plays at the background.
ENIOLA
(Looking up from the laptop)
Darling, you need to hear that girl’s
angelic voice. So awesome!
THOMAS
(Applying spray starch on a shirt)
You’ve not ceased to talk about this
your little star I’m even beginning
to feel jealous.
ENIOLA
Mere watching her performance evoked
the painful memories of our lost
baby.
THOMAS
(Barking at her)
Why are you turning back the hand of the clock?
Please don’t take me back to those painful memories of
Bolu.
He pauses in remorse and moves closer to her. His long arm curls round her chubby shoulders. The upset lady wriggles her shoulder from his touch.
THOMAS
(Gently)
Darling, I’m sorry for the tone of my voice.
It hurts so much to lose a baby…
(Pauses as he furrows his brow)
…most especially when we could have done
something to save her, but were helpless.
Bolu came to the world at a time when
the only people who cared so much for
her were helpless while the ones who could
have saved her were either indifferent or selfish.
The smell of a burning material circulates round the room. THOMAS looks round and sees smoke coming from the direction of the electric iron which he accidentally left on top of his shirt!
He hurries to the spot and switches off the electric device from the plug.
THOMAS
(Examining the ruins on his shirt)
Oh my goodness! This shirt is a
complete write-off.
ENIOLA moves closer to her husband
ENIOLA
It’s my entire fault; I shouldn’t
have distracted you.
THOMAS
Que sera, sera – whatever will be, will be.
The shirt had been destined to get burnt today,
just as Bolu was destined to die fourteen years ago.
ENIOLA
You’re so philosophical!
She throws a pillow at him; the latter reciprocates and the trend continues until an ear-splitting bang at their door brings their game to a standstill.
ENIOLA
(Whispering)
Who could that be at this time of the night?
The banging persists. THOMAS signals to wife to remain calm while he goes near the door.
THOMAS
(Forcefully)
Who is it?
WATCH OUT FOR THE FULL STORY …
I like the suspense…lovely piece