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Sunday, 18 August 2013
Randy Me #11
Heads instantaneously turned
towards me as the sound of my
goods hitting the ground rang
through the market section. The
bags gave out on impact, the tear
visible for all to see. I was
thoroughly embarrassed.
Braving the situation, I called for a
bag seller to bring bags and
transfer my supplies. Thank God I
am a firm believer in canned
goods, I’d be cursing myself
otherwise.
I noticed she had been smiling
since our eyes met, she couldn’t
stop laughing, and in a weirdly
insane way, I found it erotic and
endearing. I knew then that there
was no escaping this, the only
impedance to our having a ‘thing’
would be that, she was already
married.
She strolled over to me when the
hullabaloo had calmed and ladies
had lost interest in the hapless
dude who dropped his goods. Did
I say she was prettier than Halle
Berry, Beyonce and Zoe Saldana? I
did? Well, watching her close the
gap between us, striding
majestically towards me, it started
slowly, but I swear, the musical in
Amitabh Bachchan’s ‘Mard’ ‘Will
you marry me?’ Started replaying
in my head. I was a dead man
standing.
‘Hello!’ She snapped her fingers to
get me out of my reverie. ‘Am I
the cause of all these, or are u just
dramatizing for me? I don’t
believe I have that effect on
anyone.’ She was still smiling.
I saw her lips moving, nodded
stupidly, hearing but not
understanding a word she had
said. When she stopped talking, I
could only mutter a weak ‘huh’.
She should have gotten irritated,
thrown a tantrum or even told me
off, yet, she smiled, helped me
carry one of my bags to my car.
My ego sufficiently dented, I
asked for her mobile number just
to fulfill all righteousness. She
gave it to me and I promised to
call.
She smiled walked away and called
back to me. ‘When you do call,
please do not gawk.’ She
disappeared into the market.
I stood there for a while
wondering what I would do about
her. I finally got in the car and
drove home. Then another weird
thing happened, I forgot all about
her. Apparently, my mind had me
for a fool and was playing pranks
on me.
It was after a week had elapsed,
and I was looking for a friend’s
contact that I saw her mobile
number sitting quietly on my
phone; using up space. I placed a
call to her immediately.
‘I’m so sorry I’ve not called all
these while, I have no excuse
other than, I forgot.’ I said
apologetic after the initial ‘who
are you’ ritual had been passed.
She laughed. ‘At least you called. I
gave you the number because I
wanted to see how long it would
take you to call, and if you would
call at all. A week, not bad, you’re
trying to form gangster for me
isn’t it?’
Because of her amiable tone, I
answered honestly, ‘no, I honestly
forgot. I get busy sometimes it
makes you wonder. I’m truly
sorry.’
‘No problem, all is forgiven, and
you finally found your voice, cool.’
Her laughter was melodious to the
ear, like a soothing accordion. And
like that, we became fast friends;
after that, I can’t for the life of
me say how we started dating. It
was a glorious time in Akure.
The days floated past, the sun
shone brighter and displayed
colours I had never seen, the
rains brought us closer, and the
moon chronicled our days and
nights. It was a beautiful time.
Then, as abruptly as it had all
started, the project was
completed, I had spent nine
months in all in Akure. Now, it
was time to go back home, away
from the dreamy life I was living,
away from the peace and quiet,
the annoyingly hot sunlight and
away from Kemi.
I was in a pensive mood when I
told her. ‘My work in Ondo is
done, I have to go back to Lagos
next week.’
She digested my words slowly, did
not hastily respond, then after a
few minutes had passed, she shut
her eyes, then reopened them,
exhaled and looked into my eyes.
‘Stay. Stay with me.’ It was a
demand, not a request.
I analysed how my life was in
Lagos, how I had put it on hold for
the past nine months, and though
she was the best thing that
happened to me in that quiet
place, I needed to go back to
Lagos. Back to my reality.
She nodded through my
presentation. Assenting to every
point I raised and sometimes
expansiating and explaining it back
to me to show she understood,
when I was done, she said it again,
‘stay. Stay with me.’ This time it
was a request.
I held on to my resolve, I was on
my way back home. Lagos had
called, and I could not resist. As
an afterthought, I asked her to
come with me.
She closed her eyes, then clung
onto me as if life was about to
end for both of us. When she left
me, she silently went into the
room and started packing her
things. Oh, I forgot! She had been
staying with me the last two
weeks.
I stood there, transfixed, too
dazed to move, or stop her.
Quietly, she moved all her things
into her box, snapped it shut and
looked at me one last time.
I held her gaze.
Then she said the same words the
third time. ‘Stay. Stay with me.’
I couldn’t bear it any longer, my
resolve broke, I looked away from
her, hurting that I did not want
her to go, eager to be in Lagos. I
was torn within myself.
Dragging the box behind her, she
left. It was the sound of her car
that got me out of my inertia. At
that time it was too late to do
anything but stand still and
complain to the walls. I waited
almost an hour, then I called to
know if she got home safe.
She answered on the second ring,
answered in the affirmative and
asked when I would be leaving
Akure. I told her.
The days between were long and
lonely, my house screamed for her
literally and I found myself talking
to my walls in the middle of the
nights. Then the day came for me
to leave.
She came. I could not have
divined it, after the call I placed to
her five days earlier, I had been
too stubborn to call her again, she
didn’t call either. But there she
was, smiling like nothing had
happened between us, like I had
not acted like a royal fool and
broken her heart. She was
smiling.
When I was about leaving, she
came to me and hugged me one
last time. Then she bit my left ear
playfully as she broke off the long
hug. ‘This is how I want you to
remember me.’ The smile was
fast fading.
‘I’m not…’ I tried to explain.
‘Go.’ She nudged me, ‘I
understand.’
I stood there, for a while, our
eyes locked, then I got in the car,
turned the key and drove out.
That time, I left. I failed to see
the tears that doubtless flowed
down her cheeks. I kept telling
myself, our story was not over,
she would relocate to Lagos and
we would have a glorious life
together.
Five hours later, I was at Berger,
Lagos was just a stone throw, I
wound down my side glass and
turned off the Air conditioning
system. Time to take in the
polluted air that was Lagos into
my nostrils. It was a ritual I
observed without fail every time I
travelled out of the city of Lagos.
When I got to Ojota, as usual, I
had to join the long queues of
cars. Lagos and traffic. I was back
where the hustle was and
momentarily, I forgot all about
Kemi. I called all my boys, I was
back. I was jubilant and happy
when I drove into my house on
top of the world, I was back
home.
I got out of the car and strolled
majestically towards my
apartment, then I got the worst
shocker I had gotten in a very
long time. Standing outside my
apartment, waiting for my return
was Trisha!
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