The Masked Poet

by Albert Enang Eng Usang

  - Beauty and brains! I didn't see that dimension you know.

  - So, when do you intend to set up the First Date Eatery?

  - When I have gathered enough funds.

  - Why don't we begin to cost it? I would like to be of some financial assistance you know.

  - Okay, but while we do that, what about getting yours started so with emanating proceeds from it, you can then offer the assistance you've promised to.

  - Okay then, but that will be after my next big project at hand.

  - What's that?

  - I am preparing for the Miss World pageantry.

  - Wow! Yes, yes, yes. That should be the next step after the national contest. So, when is it coming up?

  - Next month.

  - True, that's really close. There is no dispute to its being a priority. So, hope you are well prepared?

  - I'm doing my homework, after which I'll leave the rest to God...........

  Just then, an unanticipated hand caught the Masked Poet's shirt at the collar, pulling him up and out from his seat. It was Victor's, and he wasted no time in landing him a blow on the face as he shouted wildly:

  'Nincompoop, so you are the one turning my girl's head right?'

  'Victor! Will you stop that!' Delight screamed at him. 'What sort of embarrassment is this?'

  'Didn't she tell you she is mine?' Victor asked as he continued to hit the already floored Masked Poet with his right fist, his left hand still fast on his collar which held his head suspended from the floor. 'Leave her alone! She is taken! I don't want to see you anywhere near her again, have you heard me?'

  Delight moved towards him giving him several feeble hits on the back while he in turn continued hitting and screaming at the Masked Poet. Then, he stopped hitting him, got up and turned towards Delight, who stepped back in fear, walking away from him as he approached menacingly.

  'Now you, face the door!' He ordered Delight as he pointed towards the lounge's exit.

  'I'm not going anywhere!' Delight defied. 'Security! Where is security? Don't you have security here?'

  'Shut up and follow me.' Victor ordered as he grabbed her right hand with his left and dragged her towards the exit while she resisted with all her might, which amounted to nothing.

  'Leave me alone!' She screamed at him. 'You are hurting my wrist!'

  'Stop resisting and you'll be fine.' He replied, dragging her still.

  - This is an infringement on my rights and you'll pay for it!

  - It is as well an infringement on my right to love, all your shameless acts with that faceless fool of a poet.

  - I don't love you again, can't you get it?

  - I still love you, don't you get that as well?

  - You will pay dearly for this.

  - I don't mind!

  The eatery's staffs in the VIP lounge were at last able to bring in the outfit's internal security, four of its masculine personnel who overpowered Victor, forced off his grip of Delight's wrist, and pushed him towards the exit to the security post at the gate where he was confined till the police arrived. Eventually, he was handed over to the police.

  Meanwhile, the moment Victor got overpowered and taken out of the lounge, Delight ran straight to the Masked Poet who was by now sitting up but still on the floor, cleaning off with his handkerchief, the bleeding from his nose as a result of Victor's severe punches.

  'MP, I'm so sorry for this embarrassment. Do you want to take off your mask so you can clean up better and have a breath of fresh air?' She apologized as she made frantic moves around him to help in the usual feminine way, touching here and touching there, including an attempt to take off his mask.

  'Don't!' He raised a voice as he held off her hand. 'And please, get out of my way.'

  Immediately, he got up and headed for the exit. She tried to calm him down with more apologies which fell on deaf ears.

  'Look MP, I'm really sorry. I thought I had this sorted out, I didn't see it coming. Believe me, I was taken unawares.' She explained after him as he ignored her and walked towards the exit.

  She overtook him and blocked his way.

  'Please give me an ear, I can explain all these.' She begged, facing him. He gently pushed her aside with his left hand while she struggled with resisting the push, but it was too weighty for her slender frame. She persisted with following him, desperate for his attention which wasn't forth coming. Then she remembered her bag and ran to pick it up from the table. Soon, she was behind the visibly enraged Masked Poet who by now was headed for the eatery's gate, towards the car.

  'MP, don't you think we should find a clinic to stop your bleeding?' She continued in her desperation.

  Dramatically, they got into the car as she persisted.

  'MP, please talk to me; should we go to an hospital?'

  'There is no need for that.' He spoke at last. 'I am fine.'

  - Are you sure? You are still bleeding and its staining your mask.

  He did not utter a word again. After some more unanswered questionings, she also remained quite, an atmosphere they maintained until they got to the Emotional House. When they alighted from the car, she followed behind, thinking of applying more persuasions on him inside his office. But her thoughts came crashing when at the House's gate, the Masked Poet gave her a stopping shock:

  'Please, I won't allow you inside. You can get your car and go home.'

  'What?' She asked flabbergasted. 'You can't do this to me MP; you are certainly more even tempered than this!'

  - The very reason I am politely saying you should go from here. Your mysterious tracker of a lover can show up here as well, who knows? I don't want a scene created here, nor an unwarranted situation on my hands.

  - MP, you are certainly over reacting! You already are prejudicial even before knowing the facts. Let me come in and explain............

  - No please get your car and walk!

  With that, he left her and entered the House's premises in an apparent walk out move. She followed him to get in as well, but was stopped by security at the Masked Poet's directive. She cut a lonely figure at the gate as she watched him walk briskly like a summoned soldier into the Emotional House. Dejected and frustrated, she walked towards her car amidst consolations by the security personnel who although oblivious of the circumstances surrounding the just concluded movie like but real time drama, felt some pity for the beauty queen who he felt for her beauty's sake alone, should have been treated better.

  She shed a tear as she approached her car. In the car, with the doors closed and the glasses wound up, she bowed on the steering and cried................

  Victor! Victor! Victor, has yet again, birthed her another round of trauma.

  She was extremely sad when she got home that evening. She called his line severally but he never picked. She tried hiding her number but it was too cheap a strategy as he knew it and ignored the call. She opened her Whatsapp and dropped a message there:

  'Hi MP, I know you are mad at me for the unfortunate events

  of today. I am absolutely sorry for it all. You know ordinarily,

  I can't subject you to such embarrassment. One day, l will be

  able to explain everything to you. But for now, please forgive

  me.'

  She waited and waited for a possible reply, checking her whatsapp account every now and then to no avail. He saw it, read it, but refused to reply. How she was able to sleep that night, she never knew. But she was teetotally disappointed when in the morning she checked her phone's icons but couldn't find that of a whatsapp message. Telling herself it may have indicated and vanished after hours of not being read, she opened her account to check for new messages especially from the Masked Poet, but met yet more disappointment.

  She dragged herself to her preparatory classes for the Miss World pageantry but was scarcely her usual lively self. Towards evening just after the prep, she sent another whatsapp message:

  'Hi MP. How's your nose? Where you able to locate a

  good
hospital? Can you please type me your nose's

  health status since you won't talk to me? Just so

  you know I am concerned.'

  He did not reply.

  The next day, she decided on a change of strategy. She opted for the use of emotions; the type that gets to poets. In the morning, she typed:

  'MP, I'm actually supposed to go for prep today

  but I don't think l can. I am emotionally and

  psychologically weighed down.'

  He refused to reply still.

  The next day, she sent another:

  MP, today I miss another preparatory

  class again, no thanks to my emotions. Not

  too long ago, I was brimming with high hopes

  regarding this pageantry but now, I see it crashing

  before me already. Can the Masked Poet come

  to my rescue?'

  He never replied. On the fourth day, she sent a poem:

  Saddest story of all times!

  A silly little girl

  weighed down by emotions

  rejected fine diamond for brass

  the international, for the national

  the high sky, for complacency

  and heroism, for national wrath.

  As soon as he received the missive, he opened it, read it, and reacted to it by calling her immediately. She got into the grove: she has gotten to him at last. She refused to pick. He called again, still she didn't pick. He understood the game: she was getting back at him. He exited his phone's contact app and opened his whatsapp account. He typed:

  ' Don't do it. Pleassssseeee..... '

  She replied; with more poetic lines:

  Too late now

  my emotions too weak

  my psyche too deflated

  my spirits too low

  my decision, a corpse already!

  my rejection, now an apparition!

  He got into the mood as well as he typed:

  Your words create a caveat

  between disparate antitheses

  of too weak, and a corpse;

  of too low, and an apparition;

  as death and life don't coexist.

  Too weak isn't yet a corpse

  too low, not yet an apparition

  only but qualitative adjectives

  begging for timely revival

  and in my poetic clinic,

  such a revival is sure!

  She giggled as she said: 'I got youuu.....' But she presented a defiant invisible countenance on whatsapp as she typed:

  Such carefree doctors these days

  in the hospitals and the clinics!

  who derelict gravely on duty

  with reckless punishable abandon

  while patients slip into comatose?

  One million accusations all over

  to you, oh heartless doctor

  for gross dereliction of duty

  which made me low and deflated

  a very avoidable poetic malady!

  And you are so guilty!!!

  - Who declared me guilty?

  - The court of poetic justice of course!

  - Then:

  Many have towed paths

  whose end they determine

  but there are many paths

  whose unpredictable outcome

  the initiator can't determine

  in the court of poetic justice

  you can only be an accuser

  and a defender when required

  and possibly a judge too

  but you can't be all three!

  you can't be accuser and judge

  in one and the same court

  but while you contemplate that

  what about settling out of court?

  She typed her response:

  Guilty! Guilty! You know you'll be

  and the consequent sagacity?

  an out of court settlement.

  Prepare then! To do the necessary,

  prepare, for a hefty compensation!

  I wouldn't compromise one bit!

  - Ha ha ha ha.......... What's this hefty compensation?

  - Three pronged: one, forgive me; two, listen to my explanations; three, restore our friendship.

  - One, I've forgiven you; two, there may not be a need for an explanation; three, friendship restored.

  - Then, meet me at the court!

  - How? Why? I thought I've met the compensatory terms and even more?

  - No, you've not met them satisfactorily.

  - What is it I've left undone?

  - Item two.

  - What about item two?

  - You must listen to my explanations.

  - Good! Now we have a deal!

  - I demand an unofficial seal to the deal that would be real.

  - Ha ha ha ha.......... That line got me. That's by the way. So, what is the make up of this seal?

  - Pick your phone when next I call.

  - Only that?

  - I don't have more.

  - Okay, that's a doable.

  - So, I can test the seal right away?

  - Why not? You are free!!

  Straight away, he dialled her number. She picked up.

  'Beauty queen, I'm sorry for all inconveniences.' He told her.

  'I should be the one apologizing.' She replied. 'How are your wounds?'

  - I'm very much okay now. I don't feel pains anywhere, any longer.

  - Did you visit an hospital?

  - Yes, the Hagon clinic.

  - That's okay. I want us to meet. How do we go about that?

  - Ahhhh!........... I'm scared of eateries now! Ha ha ha ha............ Especially first date eateries!! Ha ha ha ha...............

  - Ha ha ha ha ha ha ............... You are so funny. I'll come to your office then; would that be okay with you?

  - No. I think it's rather time I reciprocated a goodwill; what if I come to your office instead?

  - That will be absolutely fine by me.

  - But please, make sure you settle all differences with your boyfriend so we don't have another unfortunate recurrence.

  - You can be sure I have done that.

  - Good, very good. See you then.

  - Just a minute. Which day are we looking at, we've not ironed that out you know.

  - Choose a convenient date.

  - What about tomorrow after my prep by 3pm?

  - No problems at all................

  CHAPTER 17

  'You mean you have broken up with him?' The Masked Poet asked.

  He wanted to be sure. He was at the D-Lite Ventures, Delight's expansionary outfit which at the moment holds her office as the reigning Miss Nigeria, and her advertising arm. It had a big hall for general purposes and a small room at the west end of the hall, which she made her office. In there, she and the Masked Poet were discussing the matter of the last unfortunate event at the Phantasy eatery which they were involved in.

  'Yes I have.' She replied the Masked Poet.

  - But obviously, he doesn't think he has broken up with you?

  - He doesn't want to to own up to that fact.

  - Why have you decided on this?

  - He has been nothing but trouble in all ramifications of my life. He is a bully who doesn't believe in feminine freedom nor independence and except for buying me stuffs, he doesn't care about anything more save making sure no man poaches me.

  - Is that why he attacked me?

  - Yes. He thinks I'm breaking up with him because of you and this has been a perennial habit; he doesn't want me to associate with men for whatever reason.

  - Well, that's too barbaric for these contemporary times. So it's been a recurrent issue? I thought you had a recent misunderstanding?

  - True but it was actually a recent misunderstanding that led to this decision of mine.

  - The proverbial straw which broke the camel's back?

  - Exactly.

  - Hmmnnn..... I see. The mis...........

  - Won't you like to know abou
t it?

  - Ermm....... Well, ........ If it doesn't amount to prying into your private life?

  - We are friends now aren't we?

  - True, true......... Okay then........ tell me.

  - It's about my last birthday celebrations.

  - The one l performed at?

  - You invisibly performed at; yes.

  - You rub that in again. But wait a minute, was that the proverbial straw?

  - Yes it was. He took that decision without consulting me and all for fear he will loose me to you.

  - I don't get it: that you will run after me because of a performance?

  - Absurd, isn't it? But that is the sore reason.

  - Unbelievable! Then, all the women I have written poems for should all be my lovers now if that is the case.

  - That's Victor for you; he is so fearful and inferior.

  - Well, I actually wrote a poem aimed at resolving whatever differences you both had that led to all that mess.

  - For me or for him.

  - For you of course! You are the one who is my friend.

  - Well, I think the poem should be for two, not me alone.

  - Whatever, I wrote it for you because irrespective of all, l believe he has his good sides: isn't it?

  - Okay, before I make more comments, let me hear the poem.

  - Right. It is titled: 'YOU HAVE NO RIGHT NOT TO FORGIVE.'

  There're many fundamental human rights

  right to life; right to movement

  right to faith; right to association

  right to all that is good

  right to legal personal choices

  but there is one right we don't have:

  the right not to forgive others.

  Many activists in contemporary times

  many human rights activists too

  demanding justice for the oppressed

  advocating restoration for violations

  proffering enforcement for the denied

  yet are there no right activists

  for the top most human right

  which actually is morally optional

  yet as well, divinely mandatory

  to one, to all, to sundry.