A Hazel Haven

Chapter 14

The place was at odds with her.  Years away didn't change that. But Uche mounted the stairs anyway, amidst hushed, disembodied voices, feeling an eerie yet familiar sense of being adrift inside the sacred walls, her heavy footsteps resonating.

It was always cold, however scorching outside, and the chill coated her exposed skin damp with the early morning drizzle, penetrating through. As though desperate for something deeper. She shivered involuntarily, tugging the double breasted army green blazer that flattered a pleated cream skirt over her spotted shirt and hitching its sleeves over her wrists. Nothing could be done about the rest of her legs. The skirt stopped just below the knees.

When her project supervisor said to meet here at the library upstairs, where she'd ensconced herself years before while awaiting her Post UTME exams, half terrified, Uche thought it somewhat ironic and opted for the churchiest outfit she had. The skirt was an old one; the blazer recently bought, still fragrant with the scent of fairly new.

Together they presented a half decent human being, and as she strode briskly down the chapels where persons knelt in supplication, Uche thought how much of a lie that was, how appearances could be deceptive, how just by changing clothes altered people's perspective of you. Dress the way you want to be address, they say. You'd be cordially conversing with some nefarious individual without being aware all because he or she wore something appropriate.

A group of reverend sisters trooped in from the other arched doorway. Aversion for the women whose religious habit was light brown, with a white scapular and veil had Uche baulking, jaws set. Part of the reasons she distanced herself from here was to avoid chanced meeting with anyone familiar, like Sharon or the middle-aged, plump lady leading them. But she wasn't why Uche contemplated turning around, though. The three sanctimonious bitches straggling behind the group, talking quietly amongst themselves were.

Already halfway through, Uche thought it would arouse suspicion if she just beat a sudden retreat. So she ducked her head down, hunched over, and walked off to the side while they drifted past, hoping the new look made her unrecognizable. That was when, in the dimly lit corridor, she noticed her odd shoes for the first time. What the hell?

"Ann?"

Caught, Uche's shoulders slumped. She closed her eyes, swore under her breath before she could think better of it. Opening them, expelling a resigned sigh, Uche faced the woman's unsure expression, which became one of delightful disbelief, and she plastered on a sweet smile, feigning surprise, hoping her shoes would go unnoticed. "Good morning, Sister,"

"Oh, it is you," Sister Agnes said, rapturous, her bespectacled eyes looking over Uche as she swept up her hands, clasping them fondly, "A blessed morning to you! I almost didn't recognize--you look taller every time I see you. Your hair....."

It was newly styled so that the sides and back formed undercuts with a path made at the left where the overgrown straightened middle tumbled down one side and fringed across her forehead.

Feeling sheepish, Uche ran a finger along the hair that hovered over an eye, flicking it aside. She saw the woman's round dark face contort disapprovingly, making her double chin more prominent. Everyone who knew she'd been long haired once seemed to think they were entitled to an explanation.

"Just felt it was time for a change," she said simply. "When did you get back?"

"Two months ago," By the hand, Agnes drew Uche into a corner as people left the various chapels, where they continued their hushed conversation. "I was hoping to see you. Your numbers weren't going through. I was worried. Then I heard you'd left the choir and stopped coming to church, even the masses. The masses, Ann, you know how grave they are. What happened?" Her old eyes bore into Uche's, waiting.