Chapter 1
My Aunt was a happy woman, or at least as happy as I knew her to be, until when she
lost her husband. Heart attack, was what I later found out it was. He’d been out in the
garage tinkering under the floorboard of his car when it happened. Aunt Caroline wasn’t
home at the time, and even if she were, she probably wouldn’t have known. It was one of
the neighbours that found him, Mrs. Cavendish. She was strolling past their home walking
her dog when something made her turn her head and she saw Edward’s legs sticking out of
his car unmoving. She hollered out to him but got no response. Curiosity got the better of
her and when she realised what was about ran back towards the street, screaming for anyone
to come help.
Caroline was two blocks away fixing her hair. When she returned there was an
ambulance, a police car and a growing crowd of onlookers hovering and milling about her
driveway. Baffled, she’d had to wade through the crowd, becoming afraid when she saw a
body being pushed on a gurney into the back of the ambulance. It was Mrs. Cavendish who
came to her rescue.
“Oh Caroline... I’m so very sorry—”
Reality stung her right there and then. Her body felt numb even as an officer came
beside her, asking her if she knew the deceased. She barely listened to him. Her eyes
followed the covered-up body being shoved into the ambulance. It was then she came back to
life.
“Edward! Edward!” she cried out as she approached the ambulance’s doors. She would
have jumped inside it had there not being officers and one of the ambulance attendants who
held her back as suddenly she broke into wrenching tears.
“Oh God... Edward! Edward!” she mumbled between tears.
Her neighbours watched with sympathetic eyes and two officers dragged her away from
her husband’s dead corpse.
My Aunt was never cut out to becoming a widow, not when she still had the rest of
her life ahead of her. She was thirty-eight at the time. Her skin creamy white, long
auburn hair with the loveliest pair of green eyes you could ever come in contact with. She
had been a ballet dancer back in college, and though she didn’t last through the program,
and she’d added much weight on the specific areas, but not enough to make her plumb. Her
body still retained that supple levity any college girl would die for. Her cheekbones were
always quick with a smile. But when Edward passed away, that smile kind of went away from
her. She became cold, weary, and distant. Life still went on for her as they normally did,
but you could tell the light she once had wasn’t there anymore. My parents felt sad for
her. I used to hear them talking about what they could do to ease her pain. She’s still
young, I overheard my mom mention once. She could still find another man to fall for…
The weeks became months. My parents debated this issue back and forth every now and
then though neither ever thought of confronting Caroline about it. They wanted to, but
didn’t know how. They were afraid she’d take it the wrong way. As for my Aunt, she grew
depressed as the weeks turned into months. She barely carried on with herself, taking care
of the house as well as her job as a municipal secretary. I took to spending frequent
times with her. My parents allowed it as it would help ease her burden somewhat, as she
and Edward never had any kids.
Things changed in the early weeks of May.
It was getting towards the ending of April when my Aunt decided the time had come
she rented the upper room above the garage. It wasn’t like she seriously needed the
money—she’s a contentious woman, my Aunt always has been. My later guess was she wanted to
hear the sound of someone else’s feet that didn’t belong to mine or hers. Sometimes the
house can get real claustrophobic I tell you.
She put out an ad in the newspaper and I helped her paint one on a mini-billboard
and we nailed it in front of her driveway. It had been three months to the date that she
lost Edward; his presence hung over the house like a shroud and obviously it worried her.
She was still fighting to get herself back. Though she did smile, you could tell it
perfunctory-like. And she wasn’t the sort who spent much nights chatting with friends or
going out.
I can’t recall the exact date, though I remember it was the early week of May
because then I was off from school. I was in her driveway playing with my Lego set with a
friend from down the street, Daniel, when this taxi drove past our home. The taxi
screeched to a stop and my friend and I turned to look at it. The cab reversed till it
came to a stop in front of our driveway and the side door opened and this tall black man
stepped out of it carrying a bag over his shoulder. He wore a leather jacket with a blue
shirt and jeans. His head was shaved and he had a goatee beard. He settled the cab and
then stood there turning his head around like he was checking out the neighbourhood.
Daniel and I stood up and approached him. He turned his head and looked at us and smiled.
He had a nice smile.
“Hi,” Daniel and I said almost simultaneously like we were twins.
“Hi,” he replied. “How’re you kids doing?”
“Fine,” we both said. Then I asked: “Who are you?”
He turned to look at the billboard standing beside the driveway and pointed at it.
“Do you know if it’s still available?”
“You mean the room? Yes, it sure is. Though you’ll have to wait, my Aunt isn’t at
home yet.”
He looked at the house. “Your Aunt, is she the one who lives here?”
“Yes, she is. You can sit on the front porch. She’ll be back in the next hour.”
“Thank you, little man,” he said to me.
“I’m Jerry,” I said to him and pointed to my friend. “He’s Daniel.”
“Nice meeting you both,” he said to us then shook our hands. “My name’s Curtis.”
And that was how I first met Curtis Kouffe.
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