She looked down at
her gown as she got off the bus, the engine oil stain from the mechanic’s
overall had spread a little wider. She worried about getting the stain off,
wearing a white uniform frayed the ends of her patience. The thing attracted
more stains than a young girl at a boys boarding house would magnet eyes and she
spent a good chunk of her salary on bleach and detergent.
There were women who could wear the same white gown for a
whole day without a wrinkle or a stain, Patricia was one of them. Thinking of
Patricia always made her lips purse in a rather unattractive pout, she shook
her head as if by doing that she’d shake off the unpleasant thought. The bitter
taste in her tongue remained until she got home, clinging even as she took off
the offending gown and put it in a bucket containing water mixed with bleach
and detergent.
She walked to her
mirror to stare at her reflection, the lacy line of her bra shyly framed her
breasts and the same lacy line spanned her waist and lightly covered the top of
her thighs. She like order and would have arranged the world in matching sets
if she could. She liked her thighs best of the parts of her body, the
smoothness of it made her feel ridiculously proud and when Jesse caressed them
and placed tiny kisses on them on his way to worship at her hairy throne, she
smiled like the proverbial Cheshire cat.
She had read Alice in
wonderland when she was a little girl but the story flew by her head. She knew
it was supposed to be a literary classic beloved by children all over the world
but she much preferred Juju rock, The rainmaker and other stories, The passport
of Mallam Ilia and other books by Cyprian Ekwensi. She still wondered what a
Cheshire cat really looked like and why Lewis Carroll thought it had a
mischievous grin. She supposed she could whip out her phone and google Cheshire
cat grin and see thousands of answers and theories.
Ignorance is indeed bliss, she thought as she traced the
fine line of hair that started from just under her navel to the top of her
waist before disappearing into the lace of her panties. She remembered when
people could argue for hours over certain things with each person holding his
position fiercely with a passion that’s beautiful to watch, there were no smart
phones with chrome, opera mini or UC browsers that could give answers to much
debated questions. She wanted to wallow in ignorance sometimes and luxury in
beautiful uncertainty because most times answers were flat and dull like Hero
beer in a tumbler two days after it was poured.
The knock on the door made her turn towards it and the
rhythm of the knock made her smile, it was only Jesse who would knock in the
rhythm of her favourite song- Runaway by STYL Plus. Because it was Jesse, she
didn’t get a wrapper to cover her body with but walked to the door with what
she thought was a sultry smile.
“My lioness, roar for
me” he said as he walked in.
“Na this kind thing you dey like” she replied with her smile
intact.
He took off his shirt
and whirled it above his head.
“For your mind you be Channing Tatum now” she said even as
she laughed at his stripper persona.
He smiled too, loosened his belt and stepped out of his
jeans, his polka dot boxers flailed in the weak breeze. She picked up his
clothes and walked to her bedroom. It was their ritual- the shedding of clothes
and the sensuous walk to the bedroom that he claimed turned him on every time.
She dropped the
clothes on the loveseat and went to get a pack of condoms from her stash, her
jaw fell open when she found that all the condoms were gone.
“Jesse all the condoms are gone”
“Your brothers have struck again” he said just before he chortled.
“What brothers?” she asked, her voice sharpened.
“Babes have you forgotten how your brothers raid your stash all
the time”.
She worked in a
HIV/AIDS Voluntary Counselling and Testing unit of a teaching hospital and she was
the nurse who handed out condoms after counselling individuals who could not
practice abstinence and wanted to protect themselves. On Tuesdays she would put
ten packs of premium condoms in her bag and by Sunday they’d have all
disappeared. She couldn’t ask her younger brothers about it because she was uncomfortable
with the idea that her younger brothers could be sexually active.
It was a little
ironic that she who counselled strangers about sexually transmitted infections
could not talk to her brothers about sex. Jesse told her to be grateful that
her brothers were using protection and would never end up being one of her
nervous patients. They always laughed when he said this, her patients always
walked gingerly to the clinic and kept to themselves, occasionally there’d be
an exception to the ‘fraidy cat’ prototype. It was the loud, usually male
patient who’d chatter about everything under the sun and smile at everyone. If their
results came out negative, they’d buy drinks for everybody in the clinic and
come back often to “greet” the clinic staff.
“But my brothers are not around” she replied
“Martha, what are you saying?”
“My brothers travelled, they travelled on Monday morning and
haven’t been around since I got the stash that you and I used on Wednesday.
“You mean to tell me that your brothers travelled and you
did not tell me” he stuttered.
“Is that what we’re talking about here? What happened to
those condoms?”
“Stop screaming babes, because of ordinary packs of condoms
you want to destroy our romantic mood?”
She went to the
loveseat and flung his clothes at him and got a loose gown and rolled it over
her head.
“Babes let me confess, I took those ones to give to my guys.
I don’t want them to end up in your clinic too”
“Quick thinking Watson, close but no cigar. If you wanted condoms
for your guys, you’d have told me to bring some for you.”
“Are, are you excusing me or something?” He was closing his
fly with his eyes fixed on her.
“My friend, the word is accuse and yes! I am accusing you of
having sex with someone else and having the fucking nerve to use my condoms.”
“Mi amore, you’re the only woman who matters to me.”
“The one you stole my condoms to use with doesn’t matter
right?”
“Babes, stole is such a strong word. I merely filched a
couple or so. See, it’s not like it means anything. It’s just that sometimes I need
a woman to hold and you’re busy or at work.”
“What’s a guy man like your guy to do?” he smiled and cocked
his head to the left. He knew that she couldn’t resist him when he smiled at
her from that angle. He thought about opening his arms so she walk in for a hug
but decided it was too soon for that.
“And that makes it right?” she exhaled and let her shoulders
slump.
“I think it’s time for you to leave, Jesse.”
“Babe don’t make no hasty decisions just yet, we love each
other.”
“I need time to think” her voice seemed to be submerged in her distress.
He stood there for a
minute watching her and waiting for her to raise her head and look at him, his
phone rang and the name on the display made him flinch. Why would Patricia call
him now of all times?
This is where I should say watch out for Part 2 innit? The thing is, this is the third part of a series I started in January. I'm not the most conscientious writer in the world but I promise to do better this time and actually finish this. I'm writing the next part already... See! I can change.
So let me know your thoughts on this one. What you think I should work one, what didn't werk for you and just anything that flashed through your head when you read this.
Sweetness and light to you and yours.
Adaeze.
Chai...so the guy used her condoms on another babe! The annoying part is, he Cheated! I hate cheats...God knows I can't stand them.
ReplyDeleteThis is very nice...I like!
Thanks Nne,
Deletei hate cheats too, it's a terrivble thing to do to someone you love.
Patricia? The Patricia that causes the unattractive pout? Oh my! My heart is breaking for her alredy.. Jesse is just a typical man. They love one but still wants the other. They sabi chop their cake and still have it. It's the ugly truth but if not Patricia, it could be another.
ReplyDeleteI have only read this and I am hooked already. Your sense of humor is awesome. It's not only you. I have almost four stories that I have started as part one but after the first rush of adrenaline, the second parts remain stuck in my head. This writing thing sef!
Ada thanks sooo much for stopping by.
DeleteThis writing thing is definitely not easy, especially continuing a series. I'm finding more and more similarities between you and I.
“My lioness, roar for me” cracked me up. Lol
ReplyDeletePatricia? I hope he's not eating cakes from the same oven.
I am so glad that Martha stood her ground.
Well written Adaeze.
PS: There seems to be a pattern of Adas commenting on this post, well I am an honorary Ada, being the first daughter and all. :-)