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Wheels of Faith (a short story)- Ep 2


The Waiting Series 


#Episode 2

Wheels of Faith 

(a short story)

Photo by Lum3n
Beauty in chaos


 “Oh, sorry… I’m Tolu. Toluwani Obim.  I’m

currently part of a project for young people

battling with suicidal thoughts.” 


“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. Okay…?” She hoped he got the message. Why are you calling me? Who gave you my number, and why are you calling today of all days? Please, can you go straight to the point already!

“I saw some of your art works at Twains store yesterday.” He sounded impressed. “I believe your artwork would surge many damped hopes.”


Valery chuckled. Yeah right. Like it is surging mine right now. Holding the phone with her right hand, she tossed some empty cans in the waste bin with the other.

 

“Our team would love to work with you on a current project, if that’s fine?” Like a flash, memories of Seye flooded her again. From the voice, she could guess his age. Another young man interested in her artwork. Nah, she thought.

 

“I’m not sure about that Mr. Tolu. Really sorry.”

 

He felt a rude jolt, “Oh, okay…”

 

She was about to end the call but thought better. She hesitated a little and then asked, “Can I call you back please?”

 

 “Sure. Thank you.” Toluwani crosschecked the contact, wondering if he dialed a wrong number.

 

Valery knew she was not calling him back. She gladly would have given an affirmative if it was a woman.

 

Valery felt silly at the thought of that. For now, any man interested in her work was another Seye she’d rather not meet. It was almost a year already but still felt like yesterday.

 

Valery guessed Mrs. Thompson gave

him her number. Who else? She managed Twains store. She should have asked for my permission at least. Valery decided to text her.

 

Taken aback by her response, Toluwani tossed his phone on the bed.

 

Apparently, the lady he just spoke with wasn’t interested in whatever project he was talking about.

In the bathroom, he turned on the faucet, bending just enough for water to run over his head.

 

He was having a headache. It had persisted for two days now. Maybe it was the long hours of surgery shifts he had earlier in the week.

 

But that had been his new normal since residency. No doubt he got busier when he resumed St. Luke’s as a consultant in pediatric orthopedics.

 

He just knew it was more than work fatigue.  Maybe it was the stress of planning his wedding and a major project simultaneously.

 

By now, he wished they had finalized on artist selection. The project was scheduled for September.

 

He wiped his face and placed a white bamboo towel on the towel rail, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

 

He’d wait till Monday. Femi will follow up with Valery if she decides with them before then, if not, they’d have to fall back to the initial artist.

 

The team agreed yesterday during a phone meeting to conclude on artist selection latest the next week. And Tolu knew that was somewhat his fault.

 

He picked up his laptop and headed for the mini study. He had carved out a study from his dining area.

For the next few minutes, he tried to go through the budgets again, and their progress so far. But his mind kept going back to the call.

He had gotten Valery’s number from JolaJesu earlier that week.

 

That same day he was supposed to meet with the artist a team member had recommended when he had an impression to speak with Dr. JolaJesu about their search for an artist.

 

They both worked in St. Luke’s hospital.  He wondered why God was leading him to talk to her when they had already gotten a highly recommended artist, who in fact was Christian.

 

What more did they need? He acceded eventually.

 

Jola was very excited to give him Valery’s number. She literally schooled him about Valery’s art works.

 

She told him where he could buy her paintings. Half teasing, Tolu said Jola would make a rich marketer if she ever reconsidered medicine.

 

“Valery loves young people, and I believe she’d really love to be a part of this.” Jola’s words haven’t stopped echoing since then.

 

Now, he couldn’t marry Jola’s words and the feedback he got from Valery over the phone. Lord, we can work with some other artist. This artist does not seem interested. Plus, we need someone passionate

about lost souls.

 

After seeing Valery’s Hope-Alive collection at the Twain store yesterday, Tolu was convinced she was the right one for the job.

 

Now he wasn’t sure. Even though he was sure God was leading him, he couldn’t force her on the project. She had a will, and a choice to make. Time wasn’t on their side anymore. More reason he had become anxious lately.

 

 The entire project started two years back. He had just lost his younger brother when he began considering the idea.

 

His family was getting ready for Cross-Over vigil that year.

 

Tolu was used to spending a new year’s eve on surgical shifts. This year, he was glad to spend it with family.

 

His fellowship training had just started. He got a new space and moved to the Island right after his senior residency.

 

His mum as usual had set their new year presents on the dining table. She had repeated the family tradition for as long as they could remember. Even as an adult, Tolu still enjoyed opening them. He turned 30, September that year.

 

Whenever they had a family outing, it was either his mum or Chiamanda delaying them.

 

His phone beeped. A lengthy chat from Sharon. He would call her when they return from Cross-Over service. Their courtship was barely a week. He officially popped the big question two days after Christmas, and she gave him a whopping yes.

 

Toluwani looked from his teen brother beside the driver’s seat to his dad in the back seat. “The guys are ready, aren’t we?”

 

He nodded his head as he gently pressed the horn again. Justin was the second child of the family. Happy and easy going. His jokes were never dry. Even Tolu agreed he was the funniest of the Obim clan. And the most brilliant, at least his grades affirmed that. Justin had a 4.82/5.0 CGPA last semester, and that was enough worry for him. He told them he wanted to maintain a 4.90 as minimum.

 

 “Your mom made me wait for over six hours the day I wanted to propose. I almost gave up.” Dr. Obim had a natural way of making others laugh even when he had no intentions of it.

 

Tolu pressed the horn twice. This time, long enough to announce to the ‘girls’ they were more than ready to leave them. He adjusted the car seat. His legs would hurt if he maintained the same seat level. “I’ve missed this Baby!” They were taking his mum’s 2017 Compact SUV.

 

Justin seemed far tonight, though he chuckled in between their convo, Tolu could still sense something amiss. Justin was too dramatic to be this collected on a new year’s eve. Sometimes, Tolu wondered how he balanced academics and his personality.

 

“I’ll go check them.” Justin unlocked the door.

“No need. I’ll call Chiamanda.” Tolu was about dialing her number when he saw them out already.

 

“I’m sorry, guys. My zip decided to wear out today of all days.”

 

“And we all know it takes my darling wife, Adejoke mi, two years, one month, 15 hours, 55 minutes and a sec to decide what to wear.”

“Dad!” Chimamanda giggled.

Her parents were both drama regals.  “Kilode gan? She looked at her wristwatch. It’s only seven minutes past 10 now. Service does not start until 11:30pm. And church is roughly fifteen minutes away.” She teased, knowing her first child, Tolu would give another valid point to counter hers.

 

“Mum, we all know we’ll most likely have to sit in the overflow if we get to church later than 10:30.”

 

Justin wasn’t having the whole family drama. He seemed very uncomfortable. Adejoke noticed he had been awkwardly uptight since afternoon. She asked but he would not bulge.

 

All seated in the car, Dr. Obim cleared his throat, “Let us pray.”

 

“Dad, please excuse me. I’m really pressed.” Before any response, Justin opened the door and dashed to the other side where Chimamanda was seated. He looked into her soul as he collected the keys from her. She knew his eyes said something to her, but she couldn’t place it.

 

Tolu gave up the possibility of them arriving at church before 10:30pm. They waited for about 10 minutes and Justin never came out.

 

Tolu suddenly felt this dark cloud over him. “I’ll go check him.” Tolu hurried into the house like he knew something was wrong. He headed upstairs to Justin’s room. There he was lying still on the ground. “Justin!” He tapped him hard several times, calling his name. He turned him over. He was lying on his face. He checked his breathing and pulse simultaneously. He wasn’t breathing. There was no pulse. No life.

 

He immediately started CPR. He was well trained for this. In split seconds he wondered if he would be able to save his own brother. His only brother. After a lot of chest compressions and two rescue breaths, he carried Justin, racing to the car as fast as he could.

 

From inside the house he yelled, “Kasali, open the gate!” Dr. Obim yanked the door open and got into the driver’s seat.

 

Tolu’s mum kept groaning at intervals, “Ah, ah, Jesu gbami!” as Dr. Obim raced the car out of the gate.

 

It was a short drive to the nearest hospital. Tolu hoped against hope for some miracle that’ll defeat the glaring reality.

 

Chimamanda assured herself it was all a figment of her imagination. Minutes later, it was announced. Justin was gone. The doctor confirmed he was B.I.D.  

 

Justin had just begun a new year. He had just turned nineteen that same month. The autopsy revealed that he died from liquid poisoning.

 

They later found a pre-recorded voice note in Adejoke’s mail. He knew he’d be gone before she’d ever opened it. Mailing wasn’t her thing. Justin had sent it that same evening.

 

I love you all. I truly do. But I got tired of everything. And I kept hearing voices telling me to end it,

‘I really do not matter,’

‘No one would miss me.’ I got tired of feeling not enough. Don’t judge me please. Mum, I’m sorry I’ve now caused you more pain than the joy my birth brought you. I love you mum.” That was it. The last they’d ever hear his voice.

 

Each time he remembered how Justin left; his heart yearned to run more swiftly with the Breathe Still project.

 

He knew the Lord wanted to save many through it. Tolu closed his laptop and headed to the kitchen.

 

The memory of that day rocked his family. They found strength from a short sentence Justin left in his journal. They guessed he wrote it shortly before breathing his last. Justin had always loved to journal his thoughts. The note was scrambled over a page of the journal,

 

“I’m sorry Lord”

 

That was all. His last breath was the full stop.

 

 When they arrived home from the hospital, Tolu went straight upstairs. He came to a halt when he stood in front of Justin’s room. He stood there for what seemed like forever. The door was opened, yet he needed mammoth courage to enter the room again.

 

When he finally did, he walked in like a stranger. He picked up the journal that was opened on Justin’s bed. His eyes full as he bleakly read through the open page.

 

He tossed it away. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he was more present.

 

But how more could he have been present? After moving, he tried his best to maintain a consistent weekly check-up with his brother. They’d talk about school, faith, girls, sports, the list was endless.  He knew he had to relocate to the Island. His fellowship training was on the Island.

 

Deep inside, Tolu knew he was baselessly blaming himself, but it was still hard to wave aside the weight of guilt he felt. Maybe I could have done better. Lord, why didn’t You reveal this to me beforehand?

 

 Tolu looked from Justin’s array of books to his gym bag carefully tucked away in a corner of the room. Everywhere was painfully quiet. Is this a joke or something?

 

Chimamanda knocked on the opened door, walked in quietly and sat on the tiled floor, next to her brother, her only brother and sibling now. She held him tightly to herself.

 

Neither of them spoke a word. An old hymn welled from her inside. She let it flow alongside the tears.

 

 

Valery kept rolling on her bed. It was beyond the hunger pangs she was now having. It was a discomfort she couldn’t place. She stood up to go fix herself some cereal.

 

The doorbell chimed twice.

“Urgh!” Slightly irritated, she pulled a ply from the kitchen serviette sitting on the microwave.

She sluggishly walked down the

hall to the entrance, drying her wet hands on the way. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Who could it be? She had a funny guess but hoped not.

 

…continued in episode three


Catch episode one here-

 Wheels of Faith- Episode 1


See you soon, by God’s grace!

Love,

Abba’s Daughter

 

 

Wheels of Faith


Wheels of Faith is a story that speaks of redemption, mercy, and the providence of God in bringing us to His expected end for us.

Disclaimer: This story is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents depicted in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

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