Page 5

Timi looked thoughtful. “I guess you can. But it would be a waste of time, I'm afraid. I'm quite good at shocking people. ”

“I know it,” Timothy, one of the smaller kids exclaimed. “Bouncing castle!”

“Where will he hide a castle without us knowing, stupid?” Benedict, an older kid, asked.

“Say your own, then,” a couple of kids scolded.

“Fine. Another school bus.”

“Sorry,” Timi tutted.

“More laptops,” another kid volunteered.

“Going to Dr Daddy's outreach.”

“Shhhhh! He's dead!”

Timi swallowed hard at the sudden silence.

Then, a kid shouted. “Story books!”

Relieved exhales misted the air.

“Encicodia!” Another followed.

“It's encyclopaedia, John.”

“Toy story toys and teddies!”

“Big, big yams and potatoes!”

“Shoes!”

“Barney!”

“So silly, Sarah, that's not–”

“No, look. Barney!”

Timi turned towards where the little girl pointed at. But before he could say anything, the smaller kids had begun barrelling towards Hulk who just stepped in.

Hulk's eyes immediately sought his as they scaled him like joeys, alarm replacing cool blankness. Beside him, Nejeere's face mirrored this dismay.

Timi burst into laughter then. Loud guffaws from the pit of his stomach, shaking his frame and tearing his eyes. It occurred to him at some point the depth of his laughter didn't exactly match the hilarity of the situation, but he couldn't stop.

However, the laughter died abruptly, when Hulk, still holding his gaze, began to sing in a soft, deliberate tone.

I love you. You love me. We are a happy family. . .

Hulk's baritone floated around him like silvery bells carried by wisps. And someone must have put on a Barney video, because he eventually dropped his eyes, and fell to his hands and knees. With kids immediately scrambling onto his back, singing loudly along with the TV.

Clip clop riding on a pony…

Timi knew why the guy had done that. An obvious defiance to a laughter that may have come off as mocking.

An entirely false assumption as he'd laughed because it was funny.

Wholesomely so. And had been unable to stop because he couldn't remember the last time he'd found anything genuinely amusing.

What surprised him, however, was Hulk could do something completely alien to his cool, aloof persona, just to beat Timi at his own game.

Activities resumed, with the older kids demanding to know the surprise. Hulk, swinging laughing kids hanging from those muscled arms. Nejeere, coordinating who swung next. Music, completely forgotten.

His two little limpets-turned-traitors also joined the fray. It had taken five visits for them to respond to Timi's teasing. Hulk hadn't even smiled, but there they were, giggling in that endearing way reserved for him. Kids were perceptive. Maybe Hulk's action wasn't superficial as he'd assumed.

The children gathered soon after, singing Happy Birthday and presenting him with a crudely designed chocolate cake, specially baked by Peter, Daniel and Dorcas, the sixteen-year-olds.

He closed his eyes at their commands, made a silent wish for their understanding, and blew the six candles.

A hand tugged at his trousers' hem, and he looked down to find Sarah holding up a paper.

He unfolded it to reveal a stick drawing of what looked like him, Uncle Jude, her and another boy.

Probably Henry, the other three-year-old and her fellow limpet.

His eyes burned as he hefted her into his arms. At another tug, he picked up Henry as well.

“Come with Uncle Alex next time, Uncle Timi,” Sarah instructed. “I'll draw a picture of him too.”

“Hm,” Henry dutifully endorsed the demand.

Timi had to physically restrain himself from seeking Hulk's form. No way in hell a man who had spent a few hours with him, was already carving a place in his life. If he wanted to visit, he could damn well do so in his absence.

Steaming hot jollof rice, peppered chicken, and moimoi began making rounds.

Handing out his own neatly packed portion, Dorcas shyly informed him she made sure not to include onions, garlic and green peas, and had added lots of pepper.

Then, she handed over a portion of the cake wrapped in foil, just as she'd always done.

For Dr Daddy, she didn't say. They shared a moment of silent understanding, and the ache in his chest sharpened.

To crown the celebration, he presented the kids with two envelopes.

“Unlimited tickets at Rufus and Bee,” he said. “So, make sure you leave no game unplayed tomorrow. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” the kids thundered, grins threatening to split open their faces. Eyes shining up at him.

Timi swallowed the lump in his throat. “After, y'all must head to Marcopolo for some Chinese. You love xiaolongbao , don't you?”

“We do!”

After receiving individual hugs, with their recently acquired Uncle Alex not left out of their teary affection, he bid the kids farewell.

As he stepped out, he heard Mother Agnes speaking to Hulk.

“Thank you for indulging the children. It meant a lot to them. And to us.”

“My pleasure, ma'am,” he replied.

Mother Agnes followed them all the way to the L.M and leaned in through Timi's window.

She hit his shoulder gently. “Go and marry. Then, all this baseless gossip will cease.”

“Mother, tell him,” Nejeere called from behind him.

He'd wondered when Mother Agnes would bring the rumour up, and she couldn't have chosen a worse tactic.

Haranguing him on marriage wasn't what he needed, seeing as Uncle Jude had taken it upon himself to torment him with it once he clocked twenty-eight.

Him as a married man was like him before Uncle Jude. Wrong. An anomaly .

“You know me, Mother,” he said flippantly. “I'm for everybody and nobody.”

Mother Agnes raised her nose. “That's what you want everyone to believe. But I know you, Timi. Your heart is too large to remain empty. Pick a lovely girl and start a family. Fame doesn't have to come with loneliness.”

He smiled. A small, sad twist of lips. Long before fame, loneliness had been his companion. The actual driving force behind this fame. He'd come to terms with the possibility of being alone forever and now wanted to enjoy it in a skin he recognised.

“How about you pick a good, Christian girl for me, Mother? I promise to attend service with her every Christmas.”

Mother Agnes hit him again. “When you find your one, bring her to me. We'll see.”

She patted his hand and joined the other sisters at the animal-shaped shrubs by the fence, waving at him. As they disappeared through the gate, his heart lurched so painfully, his fists clenched.

Losing this bit of him hurt, because his heart had clung to the last second. He, however, drew comfort from the bank account he'd recently set up. It was his last time seeing them, but they would feel his presence for a long time to come.