Tears of an Orphan
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Episode 4
© Francis Mary Solomon
Eric went straight to his friend’s shop after school. The moment he stepped in, John, his friend, glared at him with a sharp, disappointed look. Eric felt uneasy but quietly sat down as his friend attended to customers.
When John was done, he turned fully to him, his eyes burning with anger.
“Eric, when will you ever change?” he asked, his voice heavy with hurt, the words cutting deep.
Eric shifted in his seat. “Guy… I thought this has passed. Why are you bringing up the matter again? I came for something else. Thank God she did not die, or the sickness did not become critical. She is doing well now. Right now, she’s even in my mind.”
John folded his arms, his chest rising and falling. “Do you know why I’m angry? Eric.”
Eric’s face tightened. “Please, can we stop talking about this?”
“For Christ’s sake! How about Lillian, your girlfriend? Is she not enough for you? That you would go to the extent of molesting your 13-year-old cousin sister? What are you looking for from her? How wicked could you be, Eric?
“I am seeing you as a stranger. I am even wondering how come you became my friend. A friend who wants to commit incest… a friend who doesn’t care about his sister. This is out of hand.
“Instead of you to take care of her and protect her from the harshness of the world, you are the one increasing her burden. If you continue like this, I think it is best we end this friendship, because you are not a good influence to me at all.”
Eric’s heart thudded. He forced a weak smile. “Haba John, it hasn’t gotten to this extent. Please, you know you are my good paddy. If you stop this friendship now, who do you want me to run to?
“And by the way, Lillian is my girlfriend and the one I love. You know Lillian is my number one , and I have the intention of marrying her.”
“Shut up!” John snapped. His voice thundered through the shop.
“Stop saying those rubbish. You are a playboy. If you really want to marry her, do you think she’ll be proud to know you are molesting your cousin sister? You are an embarrassment to manhood. Please, get out of my shop!”
Eric swallowed hard, anger rising in him. “Hey, hey, John please calm down. But wait—why are you taking this Cynthia’s issue personally? Are you crushing on her? You know I can make a way for you.”
John slammed his fist on the counter. “I guess you are insane, Eric! When I care for someone, must it be that I am crushing on her?
“Eric, for Christ’s sake, Cynthia is an orphan who just lost her parents. Do you think the pain and loneliness she feels has disappeared within a year? And you are adding more trauma to her by molesting her. Please, have some human sympathy.
“You are supposed to care for her, to make her feel loved and comforted by her family members. But you are worsening the situation.”
Eric looked down. For a moment, a flicker of guilt crossed his mind, but his pride would not allow him to show it. “Okay, I’ve heard you John. Please, let’s forget about this topic and let’s talk about what brought me here.
“I was supposed to go home straight, but you know you are my friend, and I want you to advise me on something.”
John shook his head, his jaw set. “We’ll talk some other time. I am mad at you. You don’t even feel remorseful at what you did to Cynthia. Honestly, I’m disappointed in you.”
Cynthia greeted her aunt but she didn’t answer her.
“Did I send you to this shop to read or to attend to my customers?” Cynthia’s auntie barked, her eyes narrowing with coldness.
“I… I… I’m sorry Auntie. We still have test tomorrow, that’s why I’m preparing towards it while I wait for—”
Pa!
A sharp slap landed on her cheek. The sound echoed in the shop. Cynthia staggered, the book slipping from her trembling hands. She held her cheek, tears streaming down. Her chest heaved, pain burning her like fire.
“If you know what is good for you, Cynthia, you better be careful with me. Pick this your book, drop it wherever you like, and attend to customers. Now, what I want you to do is to stand at that roadside and call customers to the shop to buy food items.”
Cynthia’s heart ached, but she quickly obeyed. She rushed out of the shop, her cheek throbbing where the slap landed. As she stood by the roadside, the shame of being treated like this in public stung more than the slap.
A woman walked past, carrying a nylon bag in one hand and a child strapped to her back.
“Excuse me ma, excuse me ma…” Cynthia ran and blocked her path, her voice trembling.
The woman frowned. “Hey young girl, what do you want? Why are you blocking my way?”
“Please ma, you can buy some stuff for your home. Come to my shop. We have fresh garri, fresh rice, and also baby food. Please, come and patronize me,” Cynthia pleaded, her eyes begging.
The woman laughed mockingly, shaking her head.
“Must you stop me? I’ve seen your shop. Whenever I need something, I can get inside there and demand what I want. It’s villagers that stand on the way to block customers. Please shift from my way,” she said coldly, brushing past her.
Cynthia froze, her heart pounding. She lowered her head, wishing the ground would swallow her. Shame pressed heavily on her chest.
One after another, ten people passed. She begged each of them, her voice cracking, but none listened. Each rejection felt like a stab in her heart.
Her eyes blurred with tears. She thought of her late parents—how her mother would have never let her stand under the rain begging strangers. If only they were alive…
Just as she turned to go back, dreading her aunt’s anger, she saw a young lady approaching.
“Please ma, can you buy something from my shop? We have umbrellas. You can see that rain is coming, and you don’t have any. You can purchase one. I promise you will get it at a cheaper rate. Please,” Cynthia begged, her hands shaking.
The lady stopped, surprised at her desperation. Something in Cynthia’s trembling voice moved her. Without a word, she followed her to the shop and bought an umbrella.
Cynthia’s face lit up with relief. “Thank you very much. I am grateful. I hope to see you more in our shop to patronize us.”
The woman smiled kindly and offered her money.
“No ma, please. I won’t collect the money. My auntie is watching me, and if she knows I collected money from you, she won’t be happy with me. Please.”
But the lady insisted. Cynthia pressed her hand back and ran to the shop, fear gripping her that her aunt would notice.
“Hey! Is it only one customer you can bring?” her auntie snapped the moment she entered.
“No Auntie, I would love to bring more, but the more I spoke to them, the more they looked at me with disgust. Some said if they need to buy, they will come. But they don’t want to buy anything right now. That is why. And… it has started drizzling outside,” Cynthia explained, her voice low.
“You must be crazy, Cynthia! I didn’t tell you to come back to the shop and sit. I will watch over the shop while you stand out there bringing more customers. If you know what is good for you, better go out there and bring more customers!”
Cynthia’s stomach knotted. She wanted to cry, but she swallowed the tears. She stepped back into the drizzle. Each raindrop chilled her skin, but she had no choice.
Then a car pulled up.
“Hey Cynthia!” a familiar voice called.
She turned and saw her classmate waving from the back seat.
“I didn’t see you in school today. Hope all is well? And what are you doing under the rain? Do you want to go home? Then my uncle will take you home.”
Cynthia forced a smile. “I am fine, Steve. I’ll tell you about what happened tomorrow. But please, can you purchase something from our shop? I am calling customers to come and patronize us. What do you want to buy? We have soft drinks, snacks, umbrellas, food items. Which one do you want?”
Stephen blinked, shocked by how she pushed aside her pain and focused on selling.
Steve’s uncle came out of the car, frowning. He took Cynthia by the hand and walked to the shop.
“Please give me three Hollandia yogurts, egg rolls, and two spaghetti,” he said without even greeting her.
Cynthia quickly packed them, counted the price, and handed them over. He paid, then turned to her aunt, fire in his voice.
“I believe this young girl is not your daughter. That is why you are maltreating her like this. Why are you so mean to her? Why will you allow her to stand under the rain calling customers? I never intended to buy anything—I only pitied her. Don’t you know she is young and fragile, that she can fall sick because she stood in the rain? The Lord will judge you if you do not repent.”
He turned to leave, but her aunt barked:
“You bought what you want to buy. Please leave the shop. You have no right to question me on how to treat her. She is my girl, and I can treat her the way I want. Learn to mind your business.”
The man clenched his fists but said nothing more. He dragged Cynthia gently, gave Steve two yogurts and egg rolls, then placed one yogurt and one egg roll in her hand.
Cynthia’s eyes widened. She trembled. “No sir, my auntie will kill me. She won’t allow me to have it. Please, thank you for patronizing me. And you shouldn’t have told her anything. Right now she will maltreat me more when I get home.”
“Don’t worry, she can’t do anything to you. And if she tries, when you come to school, tell Steve. I know how to deal with her. She is so mean.”
He took her back to the shop and forced the egg roll into her hand and glared at her aunt. “Don’t you dare collect this from her. And the next time you treat her this way and I hear about it, you will have me to deal with!” He stormed into the car.
Cynthia stood there, shivering, rain dripping from her clothes. She looked at the yogurt and egg roll in her hands. Her heart raced. Fear and confusion tore through her.
Her aunt’s piercing eyes followed her every move. Cynthia fidgeted, not knowing whether to eat or hide the food. She thought of her parents again, and tears filled her eyes. Why did you leave me in this wicked world?
Inspired by the Great Teacher.
To be continued….
Do not copy or edit any part of the story without the author’s consent.
Stay blessed till we meet in the next episode.
Written by Mary Francis Solomon.