No Escape From A Black Hole

I hit the brakes as soon as I saw her, but it was too late. Her body slammed against my bumper, bounced off, then went rolling over the murram until it came to a halt a few meters in front of my car. The air in my lungs stiffened, almost like a two-hundred-pound load was sitting on my chest.

“Banange amuse,” someone screamed.

I opened the car door, stepped out, then walked to the body to see what I had done.

There she lay, her left leg had folded onto itself from the hip, it was a surprise the knee wasn’t peaking out from under the skin. Her hands were sprawled beside her, lifeless. But there was no blood, she wasn’t bleeding.

Then her chest heaved. I gasped, getting back a sense of my being and moving into action.

As I attempted to pick her up, two passersby approached and helped me put her in the back seat.

“Lord, don’t let this woman die,” I prayed, my foot on the gas pedal, speeding through traffic to the hospital.

***

I was seated at her bedside when she opened her eyes.

“Hey,” I said.

From the look on her face, she couldn’t trace where she was.

“You’re in the hospital,” I said.

She sat up fast. Her eyes darted from me to the bed she lay on, and then all around her.

“This is a hospital you say.”

“Yes.”

“Why am I here?”

I was dumbfounded. I attempted to answer her question nonetheless…I couldn’t find the right words.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “Where am I?” She grabbed my wrist.

“Mengo Hospital,” I cried, trying to extricate my hand from her grip, with no luck.

“What planet?”

“Ahhhhh.”

“I need to get home.” She dropped my hand.

“Ehhhhh.” I caressed my wrist. The skin had turned dark where her hand had been. And an imprint of her hold was visible.

“Where did you find me?” She grabbed my wrist again. I winced and she let go.

“You came out of nowhere,” I said.

“Where?” She roared.

If my body wasn’t already riddled with stress and anxiety over knocking her down, the sound of her voice would have put the fear of God in me, but as it was, I said, “Sir Apollo Road, as you’re heading to Nakulabye.”

“Take me back there,” she yanked the hospital blanket away and slid off the bed. Both her legs looked in good shape and seemed to work fine. I was stunned by her apparent quick healing.

***

Once we were settled in my Uber and on the road, I had a chance to take her in. She sat straight, hands lying flat on her thighs. She had long fingers, the longest fingers I had ever seen; they covered more than half the length of her thighs, the fingertips hanging freely over her knees.

We drove in silence, and it made me jittery. Here I was, driving a random and seemingly superhuman stranger (broken bones don’t just put themselves back together in a matter of hours) I’d knocked down back to the scene of the accident.

To calm my nerves, I alternated between squeezing and holding the steering wheel like a plaything, except I was mostly trying not to let my mind run wild with questions. But they came anyway, who is she? where did she come from? how is it that she can walk? her legs should be broken? did I imagine the accident?

“Nyabo, can I drive you home?” I broke the silence. I figured the faster I got rid of her, the quicker I would get the car fixed before David, the car owner and my boss had a chance to look at it. He would be furious if he saw the bumper and hood bent in. And I didn’t want to lose my job.

“Home!” She said. It was more of a whisper. And clearly, it wasn’t meant for me. She was contemplating out loud.

“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Tanga,” she said. Another whisper, except this one was meant for my ears.

“Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“We’ve heard of you. We know all about you earthlings.”

“Earthlings?” I turned my head to her, startled and questioning. She stared at me, her face blank of any expression.

I looked away. Her stare was unnerving, I was starting to feel like I was drunk driving. She continued staring at me.

“How are going you back to Tanga?” I asked, trying to get her piercing dark eyes less focused on me.

“I am going back the way I came. Through a black hole.”

“What!”

She shrugged, then looked straight ahead.

A new silence enveloped the car. I exhaled and squeezed and held the steering wheel as I drove.

What the hell is she talking about, I wondered. Oh, David is gonna be so mad when he sees the car, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and grit my teeth. I gotta get it fixed asap.

“Sorry about the car,” she said. “And don’t worry about your boss.”

My eyes widened in disbelief, and I turned to look at her.

“You can read my mind?”

Her stare burrowed into the depths of my eyes, pocking something within, she was in mind. I blinked and my toes tickled at the realization.

We continued driving in silence. And I kept holding and squeezing the steering wheel as I bottled and battled whether or not to ask, but it was a futile effort. And she must have sensed it.

“Take me with you,” I blurted out.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Erina,” I said.

“Erina, black holes are not something to play with.”

“No, am serious, I have nothing to live for here. I have nothing to lose.”

“You will lose everything, no one can escape from a black hole. You will not be the same if you survive.”

“There’s nothing for me here,” I said, looking into her eyes and willing her to see my truth.

***

I came to a halt at the spot where the accident happened.

“Here we are,” I said.

She watched me, eyes intense and unblinking.

“Okay,” she said. Then got out of the car and started searching the ground.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

She ignored me and just kept searching. Suddenly, she stood up straight.

“Time to go home,” she said, throwing something in the air.

A mad wind erupted, sweeping everything around us off the ground, buveras, dust, sticks, rocks, myself, and the lady from Tanga included. Then a pitless swirling dark hole opened below us.

“There’s no going back,” she said, pushing me into the hole.

The drop felt like I was being stretched and pulled apart. Visuals of fiery oranges and reds swept past me so fast my eyes sank into my head. Then it all went dark, and I started floating.

Suddenly, I shot upwards like a rocket, speeding towards a black opening, and then swallowed.

When I woke up, I was in my room, or at least I was aware it was my room, but nothing in the room was familiar. I had never seen any of the things I was looking at.

The floor under me collapsed, and I found myself airborne again.

“There’s no going back,” she said, and I dropped. I was back in my room again, surrounded by unfamiliar objects. Before I could comprehend what was happening, the floor collapsed again.

“There’s no going back,” her voice came again.