by Seun Odukoya
Chuckling, Igo kissed him back briefly and then leaned away – but he followed her, backing her into the wall beside the door and pressing insistent lips against her resistant ones.
“Hmm…baby…” she started – and inadvertently gave him access to her mouth.
He laughed loudly and she, sighing, threw her arms around his neck in surrender.
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“Thank you, dear,” Igo said, sipping wine from the glass he’d just handed her and allowing her shoulders sag into the chair. “So – what do you want to do next; watch TV or play Monopoly?”
He smiled, drained his glass and shook his head. “Those will be too distracting. I just want to hold my partner – my wife, my better whole and sing to her.”
Igo smiled. “You’ve been doing that for ten years. Aren’t you tired yet?”
Walking over, he started to speak. “You’ve been breathing for thirty-eight years; aren’t you tired yet?” He stood beside her chair and stretched out a hand.
Placing her empty one in it, Igo set down the wine glass – and then allowed her husband pull her to her feet. She blinked in confusion for a moment as the lights dimmed – and then focused on his eyes as they stabilized again.
There was an intent gleam in them – a shine that made her heart sing and her ears heat up. She stood in front of him, as though mesmerized – and then closed her eyes as he leaned in and kissed her forehead softly.
“Happy tenth anniversary, sweetheart.” He said.
She hugged him to herself, lay her head against his shoulder and mumbled; “Happy tenth anniversary, darling.”
They stayed hugged up, swaying softly to music that played from the speakers of their hearts – music only they could hear but no less real. It was a really romantic moment –
And then the lights went dim again.
“What’s wrong with that generator?” Igo said out loud.
Her husband stopped moving. “Wait her a moment, sweetness while I go check it out.”
He kissed her cheek softly – and moved away, effectively creating a vacuum in her arms. She sat down on the floor beside the chair; amazed by the realization that she missed him.
She missed him already.
The lights flickered, went off – and then came back on, a little brighter. Almost immediately she heard the rattling of the door, smiled as the generator sounds became momentarily louder – and then faded out again.
“The plug was shaking in its socket – baby, what’s wrong?”
The tears streaming down her cheeks were startlingly clear to him from the doorway.
Moving into the room, he crossed it in swift strides and knelt beside her chair, taking her hand in his. “What is it? What happened?”
She inhaled, drawing in a huge shuddering draught of air and then swallowing the sob that almost spilled out. And then burst into tears, throwing herself into his arms as he mumbled “It’s okay” over and over again, soft tones at direct conflict with the confused look on his face.
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“I’m sorry darling,” her voice came from the depths of his right chest area.
He looked down – but could only see the top of her head. Leaning in, he kissed that gently, noticing a few whitening strands in the midst of the raven-black mass. He kissed her head again – and she moaned sadly and raised her face.
“Did I just do a number on your anniversary mood?”
He shook his head. “Everything will be right again – as soon as you tell me what inspired the flood.”
She turned away but leaned into his arms. “Oh – it’s – “ she fell silent as he squeezed her softly, and she closed her eyes against still-leaking tears. “You know why Ese doesn’t bring her kids here anymore, don’t you?”
He cleared his throat. “Because they want to spare our feelings? They don’t want us feeling awkward?”
The gentle up and down movement of her head told him he was right. “And it hurts so much,” she spoke. “So much – it hurts when I see you look at their last one – when you carry her up…it hurts to see the pain in your eyes. It hurts to hear you cry in the bathroom…”
His arms tightened around her reflexively – but other than that, there was no sign he had heard. She sobbed softly.
“I can’t help but feel it’s my fault – even though I know doctor after doctor has given us both clean bills of health. I hate that I cannot give you the thing you want most – “
Gently but firmly, he turned her around and kissed the corner of her mouth. She trembled slightly as her arms found themselves around his shoulders – his quite comforting shoulders – and she kissed him back enthusiastically.
“How do you know it’s the thing I want most? Have you ever asked me what I thought about the situation? Sure, it hurts at times – I feel so hurt that I may never know the joy of being called daddy; or the pain of watching my child fall and hurt himself – “ he caught the look on his wife’s face and added, “ – or herself for the first time, it hurts more when I think of you.
“But I’m comforted. And happy – and fulfilled. I married the woman I love more than life itself – and I would like to think she married the man she loves more than anything else. I didn’t marry you for children, Igo. And like someone in the good book said – “Am I not worth more to you than ten sons?”
She chuckled, wiping back tears and made to speak – but his quick kiss silenced her quite effectively and he continued. “It’s been ten years. Ten years of ups and downs – ten years of it being just me and you. And you know what?”
She shook her head, spellbound by the lovingness in his eyes.
“Child or no, I can’t wait for the next ten.”
Igo snuggled against the warmth – against the security, love and happiness her husband represented. “See baby, I still ask myself how you choose me in the midst of all the girls who were hanging onto you then.”
He shrugged. “Really? I had eyes only for you.”
“You do say the sweetest things – “
He shook his head. “You make it easy for me, darling.” He leaned in close till her eyes, nose, ears – everything was full of him – and then he said,
“Happy Anniversary sweetheart.”
She would have answered too – except that her lips were quite busy.
Remembering – Random Memory
I went there again today o.
That place – that ‘us’ place at Elegushi Beach – the first place I ever took you to – remember?
Yeah, I went there.
I don’t know – maybe I was trying to find a memory of you – a lingering; something to put a fresh angle to the way I’ve been feeling lately.
Honestly, I don’t understand it.
I questioned it as I sat in the Keke that took me; bumping and sliding on the sand, maneuvering between coming and going vehicles; headlights stabbing the dark like evil eyes – questioned whatever it was that was pushing me back there.
There was no answer – at least, none I could hear.
Soon enough the Keke stopped; I came down and gave the Hausa driver the two hundred we agreed on.
His kola-stained teeth widened in a huge grin. “Na gode!” he said, over and over again as he rode away. I spent a moment, staring after him and wondering what his excitement was about. And then I turned away and slowly walked towards the beach, dread echoing each of my steps.
But then I stepped into the cool sand, watched a fresh wave surge towards excited children and grownups alike – and it came to me.
Calm.
I felt peace; because in that moment, I became one with you. Again.
And I realized why I came. Why I had to be here.
So I walked forward, walked past the dancing, selfie-taking, eating, horse-riding, hugging and so on bodies – got a face full of balloon and kite thr
ead too – and followed the rock-riddled incline to the other side. The part of the beach mostly away from the lights, noise and activity.
The part reserved for lovers – or at least that’s what we agreed.
I remember; I recall you kicking and kicking as the sand kept getting into your sandals; I remember your complaints – and I remembering biting my tongue to keep from asking you what kind of idiot comes to the beach and does not expect to get sand on their feet?!
But that probably wouldn’t not have made great first date conversation – so I shut it.
I could not help the smile that curved the otherwise-flat line of my lips at the recalling of that memory. And then, the silly thing becomes sentient, widening as I remembered what you used to say about said smile:
Don’t you have the cutest smile ever!
I’m doubled over in laughter, covering my face in embarrassment. I could see you, standing away, hands on round hips, lower lip stuck out as you mutter; what is doing this one?
A flash of white caught the corner of my eye and I turned towards it – an ‘aladura’ woman who was startled by my sudden outburst. I waved an apology to her while thinking how many demons she must have bound and cast for my sake.
That had me chuckling again.
And then – I spotted the first palm tree.
All sorts of sensations flooded me at once; my body hair started to rise in indignation, my ears became hot and my heart rate tripled. The memories; still as fresh as ever suddenly became incredibly vivid – like watching a color TV for the first time…
I lean against that tree and watch you dance.
I watch you move – move your shoulders and waist to some imaginary music. Music I couldn’t hear. I remember thinking – I remember feeling all warm and pimply and – oh; I don’t know.
I remember also, catching a peek of the beads that line your lower back – I remember feeling some kind of heat flowing into my cheeks – and I hurriedly looked away. By the time I look again, you had done something – either to your blouse or the beads.
I never saw them again.
I still recall – still see clearly how you look at me over your shoulder, teeth shinning in the midst of the sweat lining your face. I think; it is in this moment I feel my fingers – my heart; actually – let go of everything I think I know of love – of relationships. It is in this moment I realize I would follow you anywhere; I would do anything to keep you with me.
It is in this moment I mean everything I have ever said to you.
My heart outgrows its unsavory confines. You stop dancing and step towards me, young delightful breasts moving with the intensity of your breathing, a gleam in your eyes I wish I put there. You give me your right hand and I lower you gently to the feet of the tree, me leaning against it, arms around you protectively, you leaning against me, eyes closed, hair stirring in the salt-spray breeze of the tide.
I remember you pointing to the solitary palm – palm twenty; as we come to name it later – and asking why it is standing alone. And, as is usual – you answer your own question; maybe it’s the guard for the rest of them.
And I can’t help but agree with you; walking there and looking up at it. It is on the same line with the others – but yet manages to stand out. You say you want to sit there, and as I spread my shirt (imagine that) for you to sit on you whisper, that’s how you are to me – in comparison with other guys.
I bring myself back from those memories in time to catch tears as they slowly slip from my eyes and into the corners of my mouth, a mouth that looks like Julia Roberts’ whenever she’s crying.
I’m still ugly. And it’s still sad for me around this time of the year too.
It’s as though you were the catalyst – the loose stone that starts the landslide. After you, then Onome. Then Ejiro. Then Wunmi. Then Fela.
Then my mother…
I stood by that guardian tree for a long time that night, just staring away into the ocean and thinking about the best times of my life. The memories I shared with you – the memories I wish I could somehow shuttle deep into unmapped space.
How’s that working out for you so far?
I chuckle softly to myself. I’m crazy; even moreso now hearing your voice in my head. Same way I imagined I received a phone call from you a while ago…
Sigh.
Slowly I pull out the thing I brought today; the thing I want most to show you.
A copy of my novel, Saving Dapo.
Yes, Sola. I made it. I’m a published author.
So I brought this copy, signed for you so you can read and point out all the typos and the errors and how I could have made the sentence in a particular line more colorful by simply adding…
And then you would bring your face real close, looking deep in my windows with those headlights of yours, and you would lower your eyes and look at my mouth, leaving no doubts as to your intentions…
And then you would touch your lips to mine softly; ever so softly.
And you would tell me how proud –
The sobs tear at my chest and have me racking up now. I cannot stay any longer. I toss the book at the foot of your tree and hurry away, knowing fully well some stranger is going to come and pick it up and take it away.
I only hope they read it.
I only hope – I only hope it serves; in a very strange and off way, I only hope it makes them happy.
As you have me. Tonight.
Even if it’s just for a moment.
Elegushi Beach;
23rd of January, 2015
eleven – something pm.
My Valentine
So there I was, Valentine’s Day.
When I say ‘there I was’ I meant ‘there I was’. In other words, I was just there.
I was at work, something-after 8 o’clock in the evening – having just replied the last of the comments on my piece for that day. My colleagues were headed to the E-center – Ozone to be specific, and we were supposed to be going there together.
There was only one problem.
Six of us were supposed to leave from work. Five males, one female. Two of us were married and would be joined by their wives; a third by his woman. The other guy paired off with the one female in our midst…let’s just say I was the ‘sexy and single’ one.
Embarrassing.
Bottom line, I changed my mind about seeing a movie – choosing instead to head to Elegushi beach. At something close to 9pm. Undoubtedly crazy, no?
No. The word I choose to use is ‘lonely’.
Anyways, so I got a cab and headed to Elegushi beach. The bulk of the traffic was headed in the other direction, so within a few minutes I was trudging through the sand barefoot; carrying my shoes in my hand after making sure I collected the cabman’s number for when I was leaving.
The beach was a beehive of activity, lit up by several spotlights from the many bars that lined the shoreline and the music that pounded from different speakers warring for attention. Weaving my way through dancing, drinking and eating figures, I walked towards one of the bars and got myself a bottle of Amarula, a bag of ice cubes and one disposable cup. Caching my shoes with the bartender, I made myself a large drink, stuffed the bottle in the ice cube bag – and bag in one hand, drink in the other, I walked to the beach.
I stood there, at the edge of the pounding surf and watched nature express its opinion about love, human beings and other related endeavors. I looked around me at the revelers and wondered if they were supposed to be at work the following day; like I was supposed to be.
“All of us dey craze,” I muttered to myself and began walking along the shoreline, trying to find some relative quiet. I was almost out of the lights before I found a place where I could stop; close enough so I wasn’t in darkness, but far enough so the music was not so loud. I looked for a log to sit on and proceeded to focus on my bottle.
I ran through three-quarters of the Amarula before I came up for air. I looked up, feeling pleasantly buzzed and at peace
with the entire world. A slight rumbling in my stomach reminded me that I had had nothing to eat that day, and I looked around hoping to find something edible; something to quiet the hunger pangs.
That was how I saw her.
She was a bit to my right, looking like I had always imagined Eve; the first woman would look. She stood on a small mound, arms around herself, head thrown back – eyes closed. She was wearing a large shirt; I couldn’t tell the color, and it came down to her thighs. From where I was sitting, it looked like that was all she had on. She was also barefoot like me, but close to her feet were leather sandals and a bag that looked like it was used to kidnap babies. I cocked my head to the side and listened.