Binding Scars

by Maya Rossi

  Completely.

  Totally.

  He took five trips and dropped five big bags. On the last trip, I noticed his jeans were caked with mud, especially on the bottom. Some children followed, laughing loudly and blowing whistles. Merrick grinned widely. His teeth overly bright in his dark face.

  My teeth aren’t that white.

  “Even superman falls,” Merrick defended himself.

  “No,” a small black boy of five shouted, “not on his buttocks. He will just fly.”

  “Easy enough when it isn’t real,” Merrick muttered. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief tucked into the back of his jeans. “Shit, I forgot to tell you anything about food.”

  “Please, I need a toothbrush and some things.”

  “Things like?” he asked. With one hand, he pulled the bag up. Big tubers of yam fell out. The children were still by the gate, playing and pointing at the birds.

  When I didn’t immediately answer, Merrick frowned. “Is it women stuff?”

  My face burned with embarrassment, and I turned my gaze to a spot over his shoulder as I nod. He arranged the yams along the wall, and I rush to help. When he was done, he took out a tiny, transparent nylon filled with brown powder from his back pocket.

  He grinned. “Rat poison.”

  “Oh.”

  “It's this or no one will buy my yams tomorrow because… rats.”

  “You sell the yams?”

  Unintentionally, my voice rose high and thin with surprise. The warmth leeched from his eyes, and his smile disappears. “What did you think?”

  He sold yams. Merrick Richards sold yams. The yams were the type Madam salivated over. Big, hairy and wide. There were over fifty tubers. Merrick yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

  “You’re not wearing your shades,” I blurted. “If I had your eyes, I’d walk like a queen.”

  He stilled, then tried to cover his reaction with a playful wink. “What's stopping you now? They accept me here.”

  “Come on, let me feed you before I feed the birds.” His eyes twinkled. “Hoomans before animals, right?”

  “I didn’t know you had plans. I cooked the last beans in the cupboard.” I said hastily, “I added--”

  “Hey, hey.” Merrick stopped me. We were at the death stairs. I would have smiled at his look of puzzlement if it didn’t bump my heart rate up.

  “Listen,” he led me to the top stair and made me sit, “you’re not a maid here. You were my mother’s maid, but you’re not mine.”

  “Were?” Fear gave my voice a high pitch. “What does that mean?”

  He rubbed a weary hand down his face. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “I’m sorry,” I shouted, “I’m sorry you’re not ready. But this is my future. I might be just a maid, but it’s my future.”

  If he looked taken aback by my outburst, he didn’t show it. He rubbed his jaw. “Look--”

  “I’m sorry sir for being disrespectful but--”

  He groaned in exasperation. “Drop the sir, you’re not my maid.”

  “What am I then?” I asked.

  He gave me this long, searching, inscrutable look. Then he sighed. We watched the children playing at the gates. In the way of kids, they were unmindful of the mud, rolling and fighting. Merrick sighed again. He muttered something about sleep.

  “What do you want?”

  It stumped me. In that moment, I wished he’d put on his shades. His gaze was too intrusive. My mind whirled.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  No one had ever asked me that question. Ever.

  I was used to doing as I was asked. Strip for Oga. Endure Benita’s insults. Run any errand for Madam. His question pulled something inside me, shredding it. The pain was intense, and I gasped.

  Merrick caught my hand. “Breathe. In and out. That’s it.”

  When my vision cleared, and I stopped shaking, I found him watching me with a grim expression.

  “I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t——”

  “You’re not returning to my mother. Just get that out of your head.”

  I jumped to my feet. How did I make him understand? “You don’t understand,” I said lamely.

  “Let’s get the facts straight.” He ticked it off his fingers. “You’re sleeping with my father. I got you out because it will kill my mother if she finds out, but like the gold digger you are, you want to return to him. Is that right?”

  I closed my open mouth. That was what he thought? Really? “You won’t allow me to return, even if Madam asks?”

  He leaned forward, fists clenched at his sides. “You’ve had your last fuck with my dad. I hope the money tides you over.” He looked ready to tear me apart. I recoiled, and he stopped short.

  I tried to control my breathing. I kept my head bowed. This was the moment Madam Gold would take out her cane. There was nothing as shameful as a maid refusing punishment. It was a sign of disobedience.

  Merrick exhaled. “I’m sorry. I’m… dammit. I had no right.” Shock gave me the boldness to meet his tortured gaze. He seemed disgusted with himself. “Let’s just eat.”

  I dished the food onto a cracked plate I found at the bottom of the kitchen cupboard. He cracked a laugh when I spread one of his t-shirts over a block to create a table.

  “Don’t tell me you hefted that block yourself from the gate.”

  I didn’t bother replying.

  When I returned with the food, Merrick already had the water, and spoons out.

  I stopped short, irritated with his interference. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  He lowered his tall frame to the ground with a grunt. “Do what?”

  “Get the spoons yourself, I will do it.”

  He rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes. It was so childish and unlike him; it was funny. Merrick waved his spoon.

  “Unless you want me to expire, better get moving.”

  He dug in, moaning loudly. As he went on and on about how great the food was, I relived the number of times they slapped me back home for cooking food a billion times better.

  “What is it?” He took a huge drink of water. “You look like I said you’re never going back to Ogba.”

  Someone opened the gate, and I rose. Merrick waved me back. “I.J.”

  Finally, we heard I. J coming in. “Oh, my God, look at those yams. We’ll be fucking rich, Merrick.”

  When she found Merrick eating, she laughed. “You couldn’t wait to feed them before eating?”

  He swallowed and downed a huge gulp of water. “I asked, I swear they said it’s fine.”

  I wanted to apologize for my behaviour, but not with Merrick present. I.J pointedly ignored me. She spread a rag on the ground beside Merrick and sat.

  “You’re eating all these alone? Shame on you.”

  “I.J?”

  They both looked at me, Merrick curious, but I.J’s expression was guarded. Her eyes were wounded black pools, and there was that air of sadness again.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I forced myself to meet her gaze. “About this morning. I’m… just finding things difficult.”

  Merrick carefully dropped his place filled with half-eaten food. “What’s going on?”

  I.J dug an elbow into Merrick’s side. “Girl talk.”

  His face said he didn’t believe her, but he won’t push. I bite my lips in relief, glad to have that off my chest.

  “Speaking of girl talk,” he said, taking his plates and spoon, “you can make a list and I’ll get what you need. Or if this girl talk is successful, you can go with I.J to pick up what you need. That way you can get to know the area.”

  After his talk of keeping me away from Oga, I might not get back to Madam as fast as I would like. “I would like to go with I.J… if she wants?”

  “Sure,” she waved off the chore like it was nothing, “it’s no problem. This place is so small it’s no trouble.”

  “Have you eaten?” Merrick asked I.J. When sh
e shook her head, he said, “Go grab a spoon so you can tell me about the meeting.”

  I hurried to get it, but Merrick frowned at me. “Stop hovering. Sit and eat. I bet you haven’t eaten. I will make you a plate.”

  I wanted to warn him there was no plate in the cupboard, but I was stunned he wanted to serve me. He opened the cupboard and sighed loudly. “No plates, dammit.”

  I.J nudged my thigh with her foot. “You’ll think he’s only just knowing. Any time I complain he’ll say there’s no point.”

  “Why?” It was not the only thing I was curious about.

  “He says he’s only ever going to be the only one staying here.”

  “Talking about me?” Merrick asked drily. He placed a mountain high plate of beans and yam before me. “I know I can be mesmerizing. I know, I know.”

  “We were talking aquaman,” I.J retorts.

  We all grabbed a spoon and dug in. It was odd, eating with people. It created knots in my stomach. I was used to eating in the kitchen after everyone. I forced one spoonful and tried to follow the conversation.

  “…. you think it will work?” I.J sounded dubious.

  “We have to try,” Merrick replied, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

  “That won’t cut it, never.” I.J pointed her spoon at his face. “When I mentioned your name and proposal, they lost it.”

  “And you wanted me to stay? What will I tell my yams?”

  I.J threw beans at his head for that, and Merrick laughed. My head swivelled back and forth between them. As much as I loved their exchange, it made me miss my friends.

  I never even got the chance to say goodbye. They’d probably get the gist from gossips.

  “You can’t blame them, Merrick,” I.J cautioned.

  I got the sense she did this a lot, pulled Merrick’s punches.

  “They want to be sure it will work before committing.”

  He gulped down more water and smacked his lips dramatically. “Really? Where in the world does that happen?”

  “Maybe they need an example or instance where whatever you’re planning worked,” I said.

  I bite back my smile at their twin looks of shock. Merrick recovered first. “That made sense.”

  I.J promptly grabbed my spoon and pulled me into a hug. She vibrated in place, almost crawling out of her skin in excitement. “You can’t know, or understand what you’ve just done.” Her voice deepened dramatically. “For centuries the Ipaja clan struggled, they wrestled over a matter dear to their heart. Soldiers were lost on both sides, and the conflict seemed unending. But the prophets promised a chosen one. It’s long promised, but the gods never lie. They say the chosen one will love one person forever and--”

  Merrick guffawed. His laugh was the kind that drew you in, invited you to laugh or smile with him. So as much as I tried to hide it, tiny chuckles slipped free from my mouth.

  Then we were all laughing. Merrick wiped his cheeks. When he caught his breath, he scrambled to his feet. “I forgot my babies.” He pointed at me. “Do you still want to be my maid? Because that food was something else. Maybe we could--”

  With a snap of her fingers, I.J threw the empty plate at him and sent him running down that death trap of a stair.

  Now I knew what happened to all the plates.

  With a loud sigh, I.J lay on the bare ground. “After all the things I did to make my stomach flat, one bite of your food and it went poof.”

  “You’re watching your weight?”

  Her gaze skimmed my slender figure. “Sometimes. You’re a great cook, Ada.” She snorted. “I know that man doesn’t even have the basic ingredients.”

  We sat in companionable silence. I tugged at a thread on the jeans. “Thanks… for the clothes.”

  She yawned. “No p.”

  “What’s the I.J short for, your name?”

  “Ijeoma.”

  Her voice became dreamy. “What’s going on your list? I love shopping.”

  I eyed her curiously at the wistful note in her voice. My experience with shopping was extensive after following Benita and Blessing around for years.

  “Is there… what kind of shops are here?” I asked tentatively.

  Her expression turned cold, and she dared me to comment. “Not like in Ogba.”

  Then she crowed. “I totally got you there.”

  After I.J left, I head out to help Merrick with the birds. He had already fed them and was putting water into their drinkers. He hooked his phone to a speaker and rap music poured out. I was not a fan.

  Merrick sang off key, enjoying himself. It left me puzzled. Work wasn’t a source of enjoyment for me. I did it either for punishment or out of necessity. I worked alongside him and got increasingly irritated at the noise.

  When I could take it no longer, I reached out and pulled the plug. I rested my back against a pillar, glaring defiantly.

  “What’s wrong now?” Merrick asked.

  “Nothing.” I drew in a deep breath.

  His eyebrows snapped together and dropped the bucket in his left hand. “So why did you turn off the music?”

  “We’re here to work not enjoy ourselves?”

  He nodded. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

  I snapped my mouth shut. Later, I would admire how neatly he maneuvered me into that hole. “I did not--”

  “What would you rather be doing?” His voice brooked no argument.

  I bowed my head, waiting, body tensed in anticipation of his anger. “Sleep,” I murmured.

  “Then plug in my music and make yourself scarce.”

  When nothing happened, I frowned at him. “That’s all?”

  He looked like he wanted to wring my neck. Maybe he was saving the punishment for later.

  “What else do you want?”

  “You’re not angry?” I held my breath.

  “No,” he drawled, “I’m not. Enjoy your sleep.”

  “What of later, when I wake? Is there anything else I can do? Will you be angry?” I whispered.

  He waved his hand, irritated. “You can run down the streets naked for all I care.”

  “I-I just need something to do, anything.”

  “Can you mind the goods while I return to the farm?”

  “Mind how?”

  “At the market.”

  I watched him warily, waiting for the other shoe to fall. What kind of Oga allowed a maid to choose sleep? Maybe the punishment would come later when he reported everything to Madam. But Merrick didn’t seem like the type.

  Well, I never believed Oga would like to see me naked.

  I nodded.

  His expression turned stern. “Don’t stop my fucking music again. If you do better have a good reason.”

  I nod again and made my way back to the house and the room. It was still a far cry from home. And I didn’t know what to do except take it a day at a time.

  It was the best sleep I had had in ages. When I woke, I stretched, yawning loudly. When I noticed I.J seated against the books, I froze mid yawn.

  She smiled. She was always smiling.

  “Welcome to the land of the living.”

  When I only stared blearily, she clapped. “Come on, market opened ten minutes ago. Let’s go.”

  The road was a mess. By the time we got to the market, mud covered my legs up to my ankles. I wasn’t the only one, so it was bearable. The market was just a long row of stalls with goods arranged on tables or on the ground.

  “This isn’t a market, this is…”

  I.J smiled. “What is it then?”

  I sealed my mouth shut. Merrick had already carried the goods to his spot. All I needed to do was arrange it and sell. Not so different from what I did for Madam at the shop. Children who ought to be in school hawked pure water on their heads. Men from the Hausa tribe walked about looking for people who wanted to mend their shoes. The sun was just behind the clouds, a little sign of the rains of yesterday.

  One man caught my eye. He had on long flowing agbada, b
rown with dust and sweat. He had a bruise around his mouth. It was healing nicely, but the punch must have hurt.