Sounds from the Animashauns’

Photo: Steve Johnson

Hanging out with Jesse and Sarah Animashaun was always a pleasure. The perfect couple, they even started to look alike. They did everything together; heck, they even argued like the typical happily married couple.

A year ago they hosted an anniversary party whose major event was the reveal of a compilation of what they considered the highlights of their marriage. People expected a few wedding and honeymoon pictures, maybe even some vacation videos. But with Jesse and Sarah, you should know not to expect the norm. The reel was filled with videos of them pulling pranks on one another. Turns out Sarah’s thing was annoying her husband with jokes. Like this one time that she came into the kitchen with a serious expression, holding a calendar. “Jesse, I’m afraid for this calendar.” “Why?” Jesse asked. “Because its days are numbered.” And she had the craziest laughter. Jesse’s thing was farting in his wife’s face when she was sleeping and running away. It wasn’t conventional, but it was them. They were happy.

But lately, the only thing that comes from their home is silence, save the occasional scoffs and hisses.

Jesse and Sarah have been married five years now, but if you asked either now, they'd say it's been too long. Why they still stayed married was a mystery to both of them. Maybe neither of them was bold enough to pull the trigger. Or maybe they didn't want to go through a messy court case like Sarah’s uncle: his divorce was so bad that he had to move to a new country just to get away from his ex-wife. Long and short is divorce didn't seem to be an option they considered.

Among other things, the Animashauns were known for their high level of sophistication. In truth, Sarah was the one responsible for this reputation that they shared. She had always been a big fan of fine art and her love for it was so infectious that Jesse caught the bug, hard. They always went to art exhibitions together. Jesse agreed that Sarah had the better taste in art, so he usually let her pick the galleries they visited and the artists they saw. Sometimes they booked shows months in advance and drove across the country to see art exhibitions from all kinds of artists and loved every minute of it. The ocean wide rift that seemed to have formed between them didn't destroy their love for the finer things in life—as they liked to call it. So they still went to art exhibitions, just never together.

*

The Irene Bello Art Exhibition that was to be hosted in the Nike Art Gallery in Lagos was one that Jesse and Sarah had been looking forward to for a long time. They booked the tickets more than a year in advance, out of excitement and the knowledge that tickets to Irene’s show get sold out pretty quickly, just before laughter left their home.

Irene was a very reclusive artist who sparingly exhibited her arts; there was no way any true art fan was going to miss it, surely not Jesse and Sarah. They actually met at one of Irene’s shows. Sarah, a second-year art student in college admiring the work of her favourite artist, and Jesse, a computer science major in his final year trying something new. He had been staring at one of Irene’s paintings, and although he couldn't understand it, he had felt drawn to it. In the painting, there was a baby in a wicker basket. The area over the basket was divided into two. On one side was the sun in a clear blue sky; on the other was the night sky, full of stars, with the moon at its fullest. The rays from the sun and the glow of the moon merged and shone over the baby who had a full smile in its little basket. On a plaque underneath the painting was an inscription: Born of the sky. As Sarah walked up to look at the painting, she saw Jesse. She had never seen him before in any of the art galleries on campus. He looked lost, like he wanted to admire the painting, to understand it, but he couldn’t.

"She was an orphan."

"Oh, uh, hi." Jesse jumped, a bit startled. "Sorry, who was an orphan?"

"Irene," she said, and seeing the confusion still evident on his face, added, "the artist who painted this.

“She was dropped off on the street as a baby and bounced around foster homes at a young age. There was so much instability in her life. The only things she could count on was the sun rising every day and a full moon every twenty-seventh day. It was as though they were her parents, growing up."

"Wow, that's really beautiful," Jesse said, turning back to the painting. This time, to admire the art with his newfound understanding. “Do you mind explaining the other paintings?”

She took him on a tour of the whole gallery. And then on more tours of other galleries. She enjoyed teaching him about art—or “teaching him to be civilised”—and he loved hearing her perspectives on paintings and sculptures.

One day, while they were out, Sarah started humming a song by The National Parks. Jesse was surprised; he had never met anyone who listened to them. She was surprised too when he started belting the lyrics to the song she was humming. They got so excited and started introducing each other to their favourite pop and indie artists. And so what started as a mutual admiration of the arts blossomed into an amazing friendship, then a loving relationship, and then a marriage in a home that produced the sweetest sounds of laughter, of joy, of music.

*

Sarah grunted. Jesse had driven her car to work that morning. Arsehole. She hissed, took his keys, and drove to the gallery for Irene's art exhibition.

She met him waiting at the entrance to the gallery since they had both a couple’s ticket.

"You took the wrong car," she said as she walked up beside him. He muffled a half-hearted apology under his breath. Neither looked at the other’s face. Jesse gave their ticket to the security; they entered the gallery and went off in opposite directions.

*

The Nike art gallery usually played music in the background selected by the artist whose work was on display, to add to the feel of the art and to create the appropriate ambience. For this particular exhibition, Irene had chosen pop music.

Jesse was amazed as he took his time walking through the gallery. He thought it was impossible, but Irene had somehow gotten better. She added sculpting to her painting skill, and her sculptures were just as amazing and profound. After an hour of browsing and admiring, something caught Jesse's attention. It was a sculpture, standing alone, away from other works in the gallery as if more dignified. An iron sculpture of a woman standing with a baby in her arms—the baby suckled a teat and her full attention was on the baby—holding it as carefully as she could. Emotions welled up in Jesse. When he saw the plaque at the bottom of the sculpture, emblazoned with the word "DESTINY," his heart dropped. He stepped back, looked around, and saw Sarah. She had seen the sculpture too, and it appeared she had the same reaction, and as if on cue, Let's Hurt Tonight by OneRepublic started playing over the speakers.

Sarah tried to hold back the tears that started to form, but she couldn't. The emotions and memories that she had succeeded in burying deep beneath the surface would no longer be ignored. This can’t be happening. No. No. I can’t. No! She turned and hauled herself out of the gallery, crying.

Jesse saw her reaction, and he saw her mouth moving. Although he hadn’t heard what she said, he was sure he knew what was going through her mind; he was sure it wasn’t different from what was going on in his. He wanted to run too, but he was not as strong. All the power in him went to silencing the thoughts that were rummaging through his head, thoughts that were louder than any thoughts he has ever had. He found the nearest bench and sat down, trying to bring order to his mind. It took all he had not to fall into a ball on the floor and weep. A few minutes later, he found strength, then he found his feet and left the gallery.

Instinctively, they had both headed to the same place—the place they had come to identify as a place to rest their hearts: home. When he got there, he found Sarah on the couch, sobbing. "That was supposed to be her name. Destiny was supposed to be her name. I never even got to hold her in my arms." Jesse sat down by her side and embraced her. She resisted at first, then she gave in. Tears started to roll down Jesse's face. "This is the first time you've said her name since she died." They sat there, holding each other for hours. Then they did something they'd always loved doing but hadn't done in the months since the miscarriage. They talked.

*

I would love to say the Animashauns lived happily ever after, but this isn't a fairy tale. Their home was, however, never silent again. First came sounds of sadness, then anger. And then the familiar sounds of laughter, of joy, of music . . . of love.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joshua is a cute weirdo that enjoys writing. He loves Jesus, yoghurt, and basketball. He pens down his wacky thoughts on the blog he writes for (http://ofaweirdo.wordpress.com/).