Binding Scars

by Maya Rossi

  “My God.”

  “And that’s not all. Dad wants mom back.”

  “No,” I whispered fiercely. “No, he left, and he doesn’t get a second chance.”

  “That’s not all.”

  I jumped from the bed and paced. “It can’t get much worse than--”

  “She wants him back. He asked for the land and for us and she will give him everything.”

  Unbelievable. “After everything Aunty Sheila has done, after everything we’ve suffered?”

  He sobbed quietly. “I can’t stand him, Ada. I can’t live with him. I just can’t.”

  I pulled him into my arms and rocked back and forth. Giving as well as taking much needed comfort. “How long is her treatment going to take.”

  His back rose and fell with his deep breath. “Really long, we don’t know. We were just… to see him after…It was …somehow—”

  “I know.”

  “We go to school with this kids.” He drrew in a shuddering breath. “I hate him. I h-hate him. I want to kill him—”

  “Shhh, I know.”

  Tight

  Chapter eight

  “… that’s photosynthesis.” NK gathered her notes. “I won’t be around next week, so you get Mr Odunsi for chemistry. See you upper week.”

  As the class swamped her, I took a minute to stare at the board. The weird letters she called an equation danced before my eyes. Apart from the equation part, I really enjoyed the class. I pushed my handbag higher on my shoulders and edged away. What was I even doing here?

  Just then NK raised her head, and our eyes met. I froze, expecting her to call me out, but she only smiled and continued her discussion with a student. I took another look at them. They were old men and women,even some as old as Madam.

  From my calculation, I would probably be the youngest student. If I attended.

  I hugged the wall, my heart beating double time as I edged close to the nearest office. With my cheek pressed against the hard wall and my arms spread out wide on either side, I felt like spiderman. Just without his dexterity.

  One little slip and I could fall over thirty feet down. The building was new and still under construction. Whoever owned the adult school must be filthy rich to afford this. My feet slipped, and I scrambled against the wall for purchase. Sick to my stomach with fear. I stopped, heart pounding so loud it left me dizzy.

  I could have just asked NK if I could listen in. But fear of word reaching Madam and my personal misgivings had me spying on classes like a thief.

  Finally, I curled my hand around the edge of the nearest office. As I prepared to swing in like some superhero, a familiar voice stopped me.

  “We fucked, we had a great time. You came, get over it.”

  My eyes went wide. That was Merrick.

  “What did I do wrong?” a girl wailed. “You said not to talk to aunt about--”

  “I didn’t promise you anything, Kemi--”

  “Karen.”

  “What?”

  “My name is Karen you woman wrapper!”

  That was when I forgot myself and burst into laughter. As I shook against the wall, someone, Merrick grabbed my hand and hurled me into the office. My elbow caught the edge of the wall, scraping off the skin. I stopped laughing momentarily to hiss at the pain. I held out my elbow.

  “Karen? I thought I heard Kemi,” Merrick said.

  The Kemi or Karen stood with her hands on her hips, chin jutted out, ready for battle. Her weavon was a stringy mess down her back, her lipstick chewed off. On a normal day, she looked like the many rich, well-dressed young girls who visited the shop every day but now, she looked like a Merrick reject.

  At that thought, I started laughing again. Karen turned on me, screaming shrilly, “Shut the fuck up, you good for nothing--”

  “Get out.” There was no mistaking the authority and iciness in the words. Merrick took a step forward, herding her to the door.

  Her expression turned contrite. “You’ve got to give me a chance. Come on, Merrick, please--”

  His voice lowered, but it carried, anyway. “It was a fuck. Just a fuck, get that through your head--”

  “It’s not like you’re even fine. You’re just an okada man, no money--”

  He banged the door closed and stalked over to where I stood cradling my elbow. My eyes dropped to the clasp of his unbuttoned jeans. I pointed at his opened trousers. With a light curse, he stopped to zip up without embarrassment.

  I pulled my elbow back, touching the blood that had broken through the skin. “So, you drink, have tattoos, sleep around and treat girls badly.”

  “And?”

  He sounded strange enough that I stopped to stare. He had a pissed off, exasperated and irritated look on his face. “You should see your face now,” I said.

  “So what? Your mother’s going to warn you, like Joy did, to stay away from a devil like me?”

  With his lips curled in disgust, his hooded eyes brimming with dark thoughts and his arms folded across his middle, Merrick looked every inch the bad boy. How did it feel, to just be? To live life like you wanted without thought or second guesses? Without care. But something about the set of his shoulders told me he cared.

  “A devil?” I arched an eyebrow. “You apologized when you vomited on me, helped me when you didn’t have to, helped Riggy.” I shook my head. “You’re not good enough to be the devil, I’m afraid you have to manage Merrick.”

  The set of his shoulders relaxed slightly.

  “But the parties, the drinking, the smoking--”

  “You don’t care about that,” he said.

  “I don’t,” I admitted. “I’ve just never met anyone like you. The baddest anyone can attain in my area, usually is skipping school.”

  He got this mischievous look on his face, reminding me of a little boy. “Done that, ate that, a long time ago.” He continued his walk over. “So, what would your mother say?”

  He stood too close, the smell of wind and musk and earth setting off a series of reactions in my belly. “My mother?”

  “What would she say about me?”

  “Oh?” I pulled my throbbing elbow back to see the damage. “She’s crazy, I think you’ll become fast friends.”

  He laughed. “That’s--” he grabbed my elbow. “Shit,” Merrick murmured, taking me to a bathroom to the left of the office. “Crazy, huh?”

  “Not like your girlfriend.”

  “I hope we entertained you,” he said drily.

  It was a bathroom and toilet combo, long and cool and with white and black tiles. His words reminded me of the drama I just witnessed, and laughter bubbled up inside me. Merrick shook his head, chuckling. “Woman wrapper.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ll hear that.”

  He grabbed a first aid kit and briskly cleaned the wound. His fingers were cool and sure on my skin. I braced myself against the counter and let him do his thing.

  “I heard ugly too.”

  “She’s just angry. I’m many things, ugly isn’t one of them.”

  “Yes,” I said absently. He looked at me sharply. “She did say you’re broke.”

  He smirked. “Maybe that.”

  Jesus. He was too much. I looked away. “So what are you doing here?”

  “Working.” He cut out a small plaster, but I shook my head. “What are you doing spying like a broken James Bond?”

  “Who’s James Bond?”

  On his way to the sink to wash his hands, he stopped and glanced back. I waited for him to make a Joy-like comment about not knowing who the Bond person was, but he just smiled and reached for the handwash.

  “He’s this guy in this movie that climb walls, jump buildings, drive fast cars, and carry guns--”

  “Jump buildings? No. Maybe, if I’m desperate. Drive? I can’t drive. Gun? I’ve seen what it can do.”

  “Where?”

  “Where what?”

  “Where did you see what it can do?”

  “At Ma--” I inhaled, sh
ocked at myself and what I nearly gave away. What was it about Merrick that opened my mouth like a leaking basket?”

  “I will show the movie sometime.” He wiped his hands on a towel. “Come.”

  Curious at that note of command he had never taken with me, I followed. In the office, he jerked open a drawer and got out a small book he handed over. It was filled small handwritten notes at the sides. It was more a scrawl than a handwriting. A childish scrawl. I leafed to the middle and the childish scrawl became more matured. When it turned to the last page, the handwriting had morphed into adulthood.

  I exhaled. “This is yours.”

  “Yeah,” he sounded wistful, “for a long time, it was my bible.”

  “What do I do with it?”

  He took his seat behind the desk. He held my gaze, those strange eyes piercing and intrusive. Someone knocked, and NK poked her head in. She looked from me to Merrick and back again.

  I should be in her school.

  One phone call and she would ruin my life.

  My head swam with a dozen nightmarish scenarios, more cruel than the last. I jumped to my feet,

  Her face filled with realization. My heart sank.

  She smiled gently. “I’ve seen how much you love learning. When you come to the PTA meetings, you stare at the student’s classrooms, ask good questions. I knew you would be interested. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

  I stared at her, speechless.

  She turned to Merrick. “She’s my friend, treat her well?”

  “You’re leaving early.”

  “I have a parents, teachers thing and classes this week. I’m afraid it has to be--”

  “Next week. Got it.” Merrick walked around the desk towards NK. “Got a minute?”

  I watched them leave. I could almost imagine how the conversation would go. Maybe she would see Benita in school. What was I thinking? She was Benita’s class teacher they shared a classroom. Since she was so kind, she might hand Benita a couple of notes to give me at home. I could just imagine Benita’s expression.

  “She’s a maid, she doesn’t go to school.”

  Or she might call Madam directly to commend her. What a good, brilliant girl I was or some nonsense. I shook my head, trying to erase the images. It didn’t matter how Madam would find out.

  Add this to To’s visit and I was in trouble.

  “She will not say anything.”

  I jerked back to the present. He closed the door and walked over, confident and careless. Jeans and tattoos in an office. It irritated me. The contrast between my uncertainties and his confidence was jarring.

  “About what?”

  “About you being here.” He reclined against his seat. “You didn’t want her to know.”

  It wasn’t even a question. “It doesn’t matter. “I’m going--”

  “Sit down.”

  I sat.

  His expression became pained. He picked up his phone and typed, shutting me out. I felt like I had disappointed him somewhat and made me sad.

  Madness.

  The chair creaked, the air conditioner hummed, and my trepidation grew. When I couldn’t take the silence anymore, he dropped his phone and smiled. My breath caught. Then he slipped on his dark shades, cutting me off. Again.

  “Riggy has gone back to her Mistress,” he said.

  I twitched at the use of the word Mistress. “Madam,” I corrected.

  This shade was darker than the last. Behind the shades, I couldn’t make out his expression. “Madam,” he spat like it was something foul. “I don’t understand how she could go back or why no one came by the house to ask questions. She was out of it for a week.”

  I kept quiet. He watched me with arched eyebrows, expecting something I couldn’t give. Finally, he nodded. “Joy said something about talking to the Madam, and now Riggy could go home. She seemed happy.” He cocked his head. “And you seem relieved. Why?”

  That urge to tell him things he had no business knowing struck me, and I chewed my lips instead.

  “Right,” he sighed. “I think we both know you can always come to me if you need anything.”

  I gave a hesitant nod.

  “I noticed you about two weeks ago. You came here. You’ve been here six times. You would look around, listen to lectures. Or do you just watch, without listening?”

  I raised my chin. “Are you going to arrest me?”

  “No,” he waved off my fear, “ not.“ A pointed look. “I like you.” He raised an eyebrow. “I find you as fascinating as you find me. I have never met--” Merrick stopped. “The point is, you can attend the classes. No charge.”

  I shook my head. “On what authority do you, uhmmm… are you the owner?”

  “Nah.” He twirled a pen between his fingers. “Jerry and Rach.”

  “Your?”

  “Cousins. I can put in a good word.”

  Why was he so kind? I dropped my gaze to his old man sandals. Maybe he was really broke.

  “Ada?”

  “N-no.”

  “Your… Madam wouldn’t like it?” he asked carefully.

  I cleared my throat. “Even if she agrees, I can’t come.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  “My mother’s crazy.”

  “Huh?”

  “Have you met a crazy person?”

  The office was quiet. I was conscious of the weight of my question between us. But I trusted him somehow. I had seen him at his lowest. He removed those glasses, exposing his eyes.

  “They’re beautiful. Your eyes.”

  “They’ve made my life difficult,” he said wryly. He became serious. “I have met a crazy person. Not close, from a distance.”

  I nodded. “I was five when I understood something was wrong with mom.”

  “Fuck.”

  The fervent curse gave me courage. “I’m not sure I even understood what it meant. I heard my father, uncle, grandmother, my aunty, neighbors, everyone said it. They laughed. My aunty cried. The pastors came, they prayed. But mom was still mad.”

  “She used to be this person people admired. She was beautiful, intelligent… educated.”

  He reached forward as if to make contact and drew back. “Before…”

  “No, during. She was a student of the university. As I later understood it, she had this arrangement with my dad where he attended school first and she stayed home to keep the house.” The memories were too ugly, tainted. I pushed ahead. “Anyway, my grandmother said she had no business with school, she was a wife. She was studying medicine. They had exams. Then one day, she left for school naked.”

  “Naked?”

  “Naked,” I confirmed. “Around that time she just gave birth to my brother and sister, twins. I was six. Aunty Sheila says she begged her to forfeit the exams till the next semester. Mom said she could handle it. And then….”

  He looked pained. “You don’t think— No.”

  I grabbed the book and rose. “Thank you… for this. And for being a friend?”

  “Yes,” he said faintly, looking shocked.

  I felt compelled to add. “I can’t lose it like her. It might not be much, but mom had Aunty Sheila. She tried to help when Dad left. What I’m trying to say is--”

  “You don’t have a Sheila.”

  “Yes. I can’t lose it. The twins depend on me, without me….” I bit my lip, pushing back my disappointment. “There are many people who aren’t educated. I will manage.”

  “What would you study if--”

  “No.”

  “If you had the option to attend school?”

  “I will study madness.”

  He coughed. “That’s… admirable.”

  “It’s not. Walk down the street, how many mad people will you see?”

  Merrick scrubbed a hand down his face and over his jaw. “At least one.”

  “Or two. And they have children.” My voice turned hoarse and I blinked back tears. “They are men who take advantage of the women. If I can, I w
ant to help them. It’s shameful, dirty and ugly to be like that.”