Jesse stood there, frozen, his hand still on the door handle, and his body halfway out of the room.
What felt like the door's silent approval before, now felt like it's blatant mockery, and as if in jest, the door creaked on it's own with scornful laughter.
He couldn't hear his heart any longer. The same heart which had been pounding like a drum all this while, now felt like it had stopped altogether.
As though silently hinting at him: "You're dead my boy. You just don't know it yet."
He swallowed hard, his throat felt as dry as sandpaper — as though he had been stranded in the desert for weeks.
He turned slowly to face his mother.
His mother was sitting up now, her arm no longer draped over her face. The dim light of the kerosine lantern casted a soft glow on her features, highlighting the dangerous glint in her eyes and the sharpness of her gaze.
Looking at her cold murderous gaze, Jesse knew there was no oasis of hope in sight. Only the hot, burning sands of despair.
There was no point in him even lying.
He knew there was no fooling her.
Not now. Not ever.
"Jesse Olorunsola Jackson," she repeated, her calm but firm voice cutting through the silence like a knife at the slaughterhouse thoroughly prepared at the whetstone for a butcher. "What are you doing?"
Her eyes bore deeper into him, making him feel like a mouse caught in a mousetrap.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, refusing to come out.
All he could do was squeak helplessly like the trapped little mouse that he was.
His mother's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to play football again?"
When Jesse didn't reply, she swung her legs off the bed, walked over and stood right in front of him.
Her figure towered over him.
"Why didn't you say anything to me?" she asked with her lips pursed thinly — so thinly that Jesse was sure he could put lipstick perfectly on them with the single stroke of a pencil.
Jesse muttered quietly looking down at the ground, "Because I... I knew you wouldn't approve."
His mother's gaze softened for a moment, but only for a moment.
She sighed — a deep, heavy, weary sigh — and ran a hand down her face with exasperation, then looked him in the eye with what felt like a hint of sadness.
Her voice trembled as though she was in pain when she spoke again, "And you thought sneaking out in the middle of the night was the best way to handle this? Without even talking to me?"
"I knew you wouldn't approve," Jesse repeated in response. "That's why."
His mother sighed again, walked silently over to the bed and sat, then gently tapped the foam of the mattress next to her, gesturing for him to come over and sit beside her.
"Come," she said calmly. "Sit."
Jesse stared at her silently for a moment.
She was being weirdly calmer than Jesse thought she would, and Jesse was clueless as to the direction this was going.
It was totally unprecedented.
She was usually the type to act first and talk later, not the other way around.
Still, things didn't seem to be going in a bad direction... yet, at the very least.
There was always a calm before a storm, after all, so Jease didn't fool himself into thinking he was out of the waters just yet.
He closed the door and walked over, then sat beside her.
She was quiet for a while, then she turned to him and said in a sombre tone, "Sola, you're my son. My only son. I know I can be strict some of the times..."
'Not some of the times,' Jesse thought. 'A lot of the times.'
"...But I just want what's best for you. How could you leave home without telling me where you were going? What if something happened to you on the way? Where would I go? What would I do?" she said, pausing briefly with melancholy evident in her eyes. "Sola, try to think of me too. How could you just leave at this ungodly hour without so much as a word to your own mother? Just because you wanted to play football..."
"No, mummy, this is different. It's the Pepsi Football Academy, they're having trials at the National Stadium and anyone who meets their requirements will get into the academy. It's my chance. If I get into the academy, this could change everything for us. I could get a scholarship, and with my skill, more than likely even play professionally one day. I could finally take care of you, just like you've always taken care of me."
His mother sighed. "How do you even intend on getting to Surulere? Where will you see the money?"
"Oh, my friend Bayo is going to handle that."
"Who's Bayo?" his mother asked, puzzled.
Against the calling of wisdom, Jesse told her everything. How he met Bayo playing at the community field — the one she had instructed him explicitly to stay away from — and how Bayo had helped him out with getting a jersey and boots for the trials, and also intended on helping with his transportation to Surulere, where the event was to take place at the National Stadium.
He could see his mother's brows crease more and more, and her expression grow darker and more dangerous as he went on, but he didn't stop.
He'd decided to tell the truth — the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It was for two fairly good reasons:
Firstly, there was a saying that honesty was the best policy, after all, and he hoped with everything in his heart that his honesty would do him a world of good in this predicament.
And Ancillarily, lying had never brought him anything but a world of pain, after all, and he wasn't willing to give it another try in this tumultuous psitiation.
If there was such a thing as a walking, breathing lie detector in this world, he was sure it was his mother, after all.
All things considered, it seemed like a good choice — the only available choice.
His mother sat silently even after several minutes had passed since he finished telling her everything.
Her silence was deafening, but Jesse wasn't going to give up just yet.
"Please, mummy. Let me go," he begged. "Football is my dream."
"...Dreams are dreams, Sola." his mother finally replied. "This is real life, not a fairy tale, and dreams... don't always come true. You need to understand that life is not a bed of roses. Things never go as you wish them to simply because you wish it. That is life. You're still a child, so you just don't understand yet."
"Mum, I understand," he said, his voice steadier now. "This isn't just a dream for me. It's a big opportunity. And if I don't take it, I'll always be wondering what could have been. Please, mummy, just this once, let me try. If it doesn't work out, I'll focus on school like you want. You'll never see me bring up football again either. But if it does… if it does, it could change everything."
His mother was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Jesse held his breath, waiting for her response.
Finally, she sighed again, this time with a hint of resignation.
"You really want to go to this trial, don't you?"
Jesse nodded eagerly. "I do, mummy. I really do."
She studied him for another moment, then slowly, she stood up from the bed and began to pace back and forth.
Jesse tensed, unsure of what she was going to do. But instead of picking up a slipper, or scolding him further, she eventually stopped pacing, then walked quietly over to him.
"Alright," she said, almost in a whisper. "Go. But remember what you said. If this doesn't work out, you focus on school. No more football, no more sneaking around, and no more secrets. Promise me."
Jesse's eyes widened, but he quickly responded before she could take back what she said. "I promise ma."
She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder with a gentle touch and began to say a quick prayer for him.
When she was finished, he glanced at the clock — it was already 5 AM.
He was late.
If he didn't leave now, he'd miss his chance to meet Bayo.
He glanced at his mother one more time. She didn't hold him back.
"Go," she said softly. "Quickly, before I change my mind."
Jesse smiled.
"You won't regret this," he said to his mother as he headed backwards towards the door. "I promise you that!"
His mother rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively.
With that, he turned towards the door, opened it and slipped out, closing it behind him.
His heart was pounding once again, but this time with excitement rather than fear.
The cool morning air hit his face as he stepped outside, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jesse could see a silver lining in his cloud, and the rainbow crossing beautifully over the horizon after the storm he'd suffered for so long.
He felt relief, contentment, freedom, and a sense of possibility. The future was right ahead, and it had plenty to offer.
And most of all, he felt happy and at peace at the fact that he wasn't doing this behind his mother's back, but instead, he was doing it with her blessing.
It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart, and now, it made him feel like he could play to his heart's fullest.
In this elated mood, Jesse was raring to go.
He was going to get into that academy no matter what.