When a mother’s tear hits the ground it does so with a lot of pain. Especially when it’s for the suffering of her child. She can fight the entire universe to protect her offspring.
Diane, a fairly young woman. Widowed. Her husband, Gregory, left home for work one day and returned a week later in an unusual state. What happened exactly, she did not know. The story had a lot of theories, but what good was it anyway. The damage was done already, with no possible way to reverse it. It was a big wound she was to live with for the rest of her life. Love is pain at times.
“Why?” she wondered.
At around 16:45hrs he had called up and asked how she was feeling. She seemed a little unwell when he left earier. “I am almost knocking off from work and will come home straight away,” he said.
“Bring me some vegetables from Woolies please,” Diane asked.
Gregory grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down all the required vegetables. Before long he hung up and cleared his desk. He switched off his computer and walked out of the office. Unlike many other days he bid farewell to almost everyone he met on his way out.
Naturally, Gregory was a happy soul, but on this certain day he was being too kind. His colleagues just wondered what was the genesis of this excess excitement.
By that time, Diane was barely two weeks pregnant, without her knowing too. The young soul just sat in her belly without sending any check-in messages.
A Week Later
Diane sat on the balcony of their apartment looking at the waters splash. The smell of sea salt filled the air and the cool breeze gave her a sudden relaxation. Her mind wandered off into nowhere and her spirit elevated into the unknown. It was a good therapeutic feeling, but still did not stop her from missing Greg.
They lived just a wee walk away from the beach and she so longed to just put her feet into the waters. Her feet were swollen after being homebound for days on end. The country, like any other was under strict lockdown due to the devastating Covid-19 pandemic. Could it get any worse for her?
A week earlier Diane anxiously expected, like always Gregory to knock on the door. He would kiss her first thing when she opened the door for him and embrace her. Alas, exactly seven days later she was still waiting for the knock. Gregory never returned home and he never called. In fact, he all of a sudden went AWOL and was never reachable. Diane progressively lost her mind daily, especially with the police not giving a satisfying conclusion to their investigation.
Everytime she would call them, they told her; “madame, we are doing our level best to find your husband.” What would be the best from a police force that is totally incapacitated? Many of them were busy chasing drivers on the road. Most probably, no one had the time to look for a missing adult.
They were also sick and tired of similar cases. Many a time they had had to look for unfaithful husbands who chose to elope with their secondary sweethearts. They called it a waste of state resources and women should put a leash on their husbands. Diane kept pestering them tirelessly, until they chose to go an extra mile.
She called Greg’s office for the umpteenth time, to no avail. No one at his office could explain his absence. Diane ran out of tears and could cry no more. She was stuck, home alone. Family could not visit her, lest they risked being arrested for defying lockdown rules.
To be continued...