The Sounds of Night

I remember the first time I became aware of you.

It was one of those nights where I was startled from sleep by the realization that the cold seeping into the lower part of my body had nothing to do with the direction of the fan. I was once again lying in a pool of my urine. I had failed the growing up test again.

I started to cry. I wept not because of the recriminations that would follow from our mother in the morning. I was not crying because of the humiliation that awaited me in the morning in the hands of Anwuli as she stripped and left me naked in the bathroom till she was ready to bathe me either. I was used to all that. Looking back now, i think I had developed a thick skin to most of it. I was an old man in a four year old's body. Been there, done that. Anwuli, mom, dad and their reactions to my bedwetting... I had memories of all of them before that night. But you, you were just a shadow before then.

 

I cried hard that night. Thick skin or not, I still wanted mom to be able to lean in and hug me without holding her breath for fear that a whiff of my urine might assail her pampered nose. I wanted to be rid of Anwuli and the scare her Nixoderm painted face gave me on the nights she woke me up to pee. I wanted to be able to drink apple juice or milk any hour of the day I chose. I wanted to be free of the mocking songs of 'Atole' that Anwuli composed to haunt my every waking hour.

I remember how cold it got that night as my urine and tears seeped into my bedclothes and reinforced the chill of the night. I sat up in bed wondering how to make it right. Then you walked into my room. I have no previous memory of you before you walked into my room that night but when you did, I knew it was going to be alright.

"Why are you crying?" You asked.
"I peed on the bed again." I replied in a small voice full of shame.
"Ok." You answered.

You made me get out of the soiled bed and helped me remove my damp clothes. You took me into the bathroom and rinsed my body ever so gently. You found me new bedclothes and dressed me. You then took me by the hand and into your room. You tucked me in your bed and gave me your teddy. Mine was soaked in pee.

"What if I pee on your bed?" I asked after you had gotten into bed with me.
"Then Anwuli will wash plenty clothes tomorrow and leave us to play our football" you replied. I chuckled at the thought. I didn't pee again that night. I don't remember ever peeing on the bed again.

Mom says you cured me but I think it was Anwuli's threat the next morning to tie a snake round my waist if I continued with my ways that did it.

Its 3am and I can hear your son sniffling. Your snores, your wife's soft breathing, his sniffling and the drone of the air conditioner are the sounds that accompany the night. I can recognize the sounds your son is making anywhere. It is shame mixed with fear, topped with loneliness and wrapped up in the chill of the night. Been there, done that.

I walk into your son's room and repay the favor of many years ago. Your house-girl's name is Beatrice. I will have a word with her about stories of snakes on little boys' waists in the morning. It worked for me and Anwuli.

For now, I listen to the sounds of a child breathing,his security and dignity restored, and I know what it feels like to be a hero. You, my brother, were my first hero.

P.S I wish i could always write like this...sigh...Sadly my muse is as strong willed as i am... 

This one is for all my heroes. You make me better...

Song of the day: Mariah Carey - Hero