"It was a heart issue, before it was a skin problem." Chioma Onwudiwe
“I don’t care about what my mother did, or said. She is dead now.” Bridon yelled. Running his hand through his sandy blonde hair, he turned momentarily away from his aunt. He just wished she would go away. Somehow they always found a way to make things more complicated, than it already was. They being the much older, or religious ones like his aunt Maylin.
His parents had died in a private plane crash, just a month ago. Now he and his identical twin brother Brenton, stood to inherit a massive fortune. They were scheduled to meet with the lawyers in a couple of days and he was feeling very anxious, as the seconds trickled by. He already had so many plans lined up, for $600 million dollars. The amount he would get, if the estate was split equally between him and his brother.
His brother unlike him, was away in college. And he often observed life differently, than Bridon did. He reminded him so much, of their mother and her sister. The same one whose voice was now clamoring, for attention along with his racing thoughts.
“That’s not a very kind thing to say.” Started his aunt, hardly dismayed. Bridon said or did what Bridon wanted to say or do. An attitude that had been grandly fostered and encouraged by his late father.
She often wondered, how her sister did it. But she did it for twenty-five years and beautifully so. “You know your mother would want her to stay. She has been with your family, your whole life.”
“But we do not need her anymore. My parents are gone and I don’t want that unnecessary burden.” He felt irritated, that she was making him have this annoying conversation. Just like his aunt and his late mother, to uphold the cause of the seemingly down-trodden. Even to the point, of their family’s detriment. At least that was the way he saw it.
“Okay, I understand.” Continued his aunt, undeterred by his habitual brashness. “Her services may no longer be needed, in that capacity. But you can lay her off nicely. Send her on with a nice little package, of token and appreciation for all her faithful years of service. Your mother would have wanted that.”
The young man grunted and shook his head in disbelief. Pacing the large and opulent dining room, with his hands in his pocket. He began to speak.
“Appreciation for service? Aunt May, she is black. Pulled away from squalor and a hard life. Rescued from hopelessness. Had her life and her family’s position promoted, from what it could have been. And yet you suggest I thank her, for allowing us to better her life?”
The older women merely shrugged, sighing her sadness.
“What does Brenton have to say, about all these decisions that you have made?” She ventured to ask.
“You know he does not care. He often lets me speak for him. And that is exactly what I am doing right now. We will have to make some significant changes. Changes that will not and cannot accommodate, the black woman. And that’s final aunt May.”
She looked up at him towering over her, as tears pooled in her eyes. “Whatever became of you? Where did all this mean and vile sentiments come from?” The sad woman asked, unwilling and afraid of any answer that there might be.
“They came from nowhere. And your classification of my opinion, as mean and vile is absolutely incorrect. Feel free to pray for me though, as you always do.” He finished, his sarcasm hanging densely in the spacious room. When his aunt did not respond, he chuckled in derision and walked out.
The emergency response team, worked quick and hard to keep the young man conscious. “What’s your name again?” Asked the doctor as the room bustled around him. Can you hear me? Stay with me. Stay with me…."
Bridon winced, at the bright light over his head. It hurt to open his eyes, much less blink them. He could hardly move his hands either. He was strapped to the bed.
When his vision became less blurry, he saw a man standing over his bed. “Hello Bridon, good to see you coming through.” The doctor smiled kindly. “You were in a very bad car accident, three days ago. You apparently drove of a bridge, in a state of inebriation.” He paused to let that sink in. The young man only stared him, so the professional continued.
“The good news, is we had to amputate your left leg. It was trapped in the car door. With months of rehabilitation and physical therapy, you should be able to walk again. And you will definitely need, an around the clock home care. However,” he paused to grab a seat and move closer to the bed. His following information would be grim and he needed to be professionally steady in it's deliverance. “You severed some cardiac muscle. When a piece of sharp steel, punctured your chest. You also have only one kidney left. And it is slowly shutting down, due to multiple abrasions. So right now you need a heart replacement/transplant. And at least one kidney. We are running out of time.”
“Your twin brother and aunt, have tested negative for the kidney. And so far, we are waiting for a miraculous heart donor transplant in the next eighteen hours.”
The young man began to sob softly. Pain racked through his body, with the slightest movement. However, he managed to speak. Though his speech was slurred and almost inaudible. “Please don’t let me die. I don’t want to die. I will pay anything, I have the money….”
“That’s not the issue son,” the doctor explained sympathetically. “We need some organs and we need it now. Most importantly, a compatible heart. Usually….”
“Dr Cole, please report to the nurses’ station.” Came the voice, from the overhead speakers. “I will be right back.” The doctor excused himself as the pain-killer sedated young man, fell asleep.
Two hours later, Bridon opened his eyes to see yet another looming figure. This time it was his aunt. “Oh Brid,” she cried with a smile. “So good to see you coming through. We were so worried, Brent spent the night here. He left a few hours ago, to shower, change and grab something to eat.” The young patient nodded, with obvious difficulty. “I don’t want to die aunt May, please pray for me.” He began to sob again. "Oh dear no," whispered the distraught woman.“I never stopped praying Brid, I never did."
"In fact, I heard the doctor say. That they just flew in a compatible heart. And you are the next critical patient on the list.” She started with a faint smile, her face briefly registering joy.
“Oh thank God.” The young man breathed in relief, his voice dry and coarse.
“There is just one problem though.” His aunt looked suddenly torn and worried, as she continued to speak.
“I mean, I know how you feel about these things. And you have recently expressed your stand further” The woman held her nephew's gaze, steadily but kindly.
“What aunt May, what?" Bridon begged for a response, wincing at the pain that shot through his body. "What in the world, are you talking about?” The patient began to panic. "Well," started his aunt tentatively. “The heart you are about to receive, once belonged to a black man.”