“What happened to end your relationship so quickly?” he began.
“Work.”
“Ha, I see. The great excuse.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get straight to the point, Simisola. I know it’s too soon for you with your breakup and all, but we could have a good time.”
I smiled at him if only to ease the increasing awkwardness of the situation.
“You’re a lovely woman, Simi, any man—” He was cut short by the waiter.
“Are you ready to order?” He looked at me and then at Nicholas, who already picked up the menu from the table.
I stared down at the menu on my side of the table, not wanting to touch the darn thing. I let him order for both of us.
“We’ll have the snail thing you have here. Is that good for you, Simi?”
I nodded.
The waiter left after Nicholas asked him to bring another bottle of red wine.
“As I was saying, you are…”
“You disgraceful adulterer!”
A woman in a blue blouse and pleated skirt shouted from the entrance of the restaurant. Everyone turned to stare at her. I wondered who she was and who she was referring to. And then I saw the fear in Nicholas’ eyes and the way he tried to avert the gaze of the woman who was now strolling with determined steps towards us.
“Oh heavens, no…”’ I muttered with my head down. “You’re married?”
I had neither seen a ring on his finger nor heard anything about him being a husband.
He said nothing.
“Well, that’s just fantastic.”
The woman reached our table and gave him a slap that could be heard at the end of the room. “So the rumours were true. You seduce tramps like this one over here and have your way with them.”
My hands trembled as she rained down insults on her adulterous husband and me. Was this a sign for me to give up on men?
“Eghe, I can explain,” Dr Nicolas began.
“Explain what? Explain what, you bastard?” She gripped him by the collar of his shirt and spat in his face. That was not enough for her. She picked up the wine glass and emptied the contents on his head.
I could not hold back a slight chuckle. I laughed at the wimp of a man on bended knees, and at myself. How did I end up there? My eyes watered. I bit my lower lip to hold back the tears.
“We’ve only been married for two months, and you’ve already become a chronic adulterer. You have me. What else do you want?”
Dr Nicholas cleaned his face and said “I’m sorry. Let me explain.”
“I want a divorce,” was the last thing the crazed woman said before stomping away. Nicholas went after her, pleading woefully.
There was total silence in the restaurant.
I was too scared to look around. I could already feel the judgmental stares from the other customers burning uncountable holes in my body.
“Who’s going to pay for the drinks?” The waiter was back.
“I’ll... I’ll pay. But just for the opened bottle.” I gave him the money. I was ready to go when I heard someone say ‘whore’. I called the waiter back. “On second thought I would like to have the second bottle.”
I drank my wine at the bar, hoping it would drown out the voice that called me a whore. Whore? Really? Damn. I poured the drink down my throat to keep myself from retching. I finished the bottle and ordered another.
The person by my side who had been drinking slowly from a tall glass cleared his throat. I turned my attention to him. He was wearing a hooded sweater and jean trousers. He pulled down his baseball cap to conceal his face even though the dim light in the room was already helping him.
“Did you see what happened over there?”
I pointed in the direction of the restaurant. I was highly tipsy.
“I was disgraced, that’s what happened. Embarrassed is the word.”
He angled his body toward me, his face still hidden.
“A hard man is good to find. Wait, or is it the other way around?”
He appeared to be listening to me blab because he responded with a smile.
“I know I just met you, but I feel you should know these things. I am sad, stranger. I love my job, and it’s constantly affecting my relationships. I’m never going to settle down. Maybe I should just concentrate on my job, you know? But my sister won’t like to hear that. No, she won’t. She’s a crazy one, my sister, but she wants the best for me. No, I’ll concentrate on my job.”
He nodded slowly.
“I should. Yes, I should. I should have another drink.”
I looked into my purse to find out I had no money on me and remembered I had left my phone charging in the nurses changing room. I laughed.
“Wow, no way to get home. No more money, no way to call for a ride. Aren’t I just the unluckiest woman on earth?”
“I’ll give you a ride home, Miss…” It was the first time I heard him speak, and I wanted to see the face behind such a soothing voice.
“Miss Simi, no,” I waved my arms around sluggishly.
“Ice Queen.” Hiccup. “Ice Queen is my name. My sister gave me the name, and it really is more befitting with the way I seem to put my job before my lovers.”
I laughed and hiccupped loudly. “It’s my superhero name. Shush, don’t tell anyone.”
“Can you write down your address?”
He gave me a pen and paper, and I managed to scribble down my address in handwriting that did not belong to me.
“Let’s go,” he said, getting out of his chair. I made to stand up, but my legs did a lousy job of supporting my drunken weight. The man was by my side, holding me up.
Big strong arms which could only be from so many sessions in a gym, half dragged me all the way to his car and put me in the passenger’s seat. When he got in, he adjusted the cap on his head, and a stream of lustrous jet black hair partially spilt down his forehead. His hands reached for my body.
“What are you doing? What are you doing you, pervert?” I was ready to use my teeth on him if he tried to take advantage of the situation.
“I’m strapping you in, Ice Queen.”
“Oh.”
A sigh escaped from his full lips as he started his car.
“Where are you from?”
His eyes were focused on the road.
“What?”
“What country are you from, stranger?”
“Here, Nigeria.”
The moving car and strawberry scent most likely from an air freshener made me sick.
“But…”
“My mother’s German.” His answer came out in a forced manner.
“I see.”
He helped me out of the car when we arrived in front of my bungalow, the last house in the quiet cul-de-sac.
“Take care of yourself,” he told me. I fumbled with my bag for a few minutes and finally found my keys.
“Thank you…” I turned around, but he was already gone.
***
It seemed like another lifetime when I found myself walking down this strange, lonely road, darkness closing behind me. The night seemed to be conjured out of the fog, clouding my senses and making me numb.
I did not recognise where I was or why I kept on moving forward. Soon I appeared in a forest. Falling leaves floated across to me and danced around the tall trees. I walked in and out of them baffled by how green and bright everything seemed. Behind a tree, about twenty feet from me was an outline of a person who hid as if afraid to get out.
“Who’s there?” I asked, my voice shaky.
No answer.
I moved towards the shape, but it floated to the trees on my right. I turned sharply to find it gliding toward me.
It was a woman clad in white, holding a staff. She had a smile on her dark blue lips.
Trembling all over, I fell to my knees.
The sight of her terrifyingly white pupils should have sent me running, but my legs didn’t move.
She came close, ever so
gracefully and said, “Daughter of Ireti. The time is almost upon us.”
“What ... what ... what ...?” I couldn’t form words, and I blinked so fast I could barely see.
“When the time comes, you’ll know,” she answered. Her white eyes became black. “You'll certainly know.”
She disappeared through the trees.
***
My body jerked as I woke to find my curtains on fire. I scrambled for the bottle of water on my bedside table and threw the contents on the flames. It went out with a searing sound.
As I stared at my charred curtains, my heart raced uncontrollably. I recalled the dream clearly. I knew not what to make of it other than a drunken delusion, but there was no explanation for the fire.
Chapter 2
The next morning, before my afternoon shift, I paid my sister and her family a visit. They lived in the government residential area, not so far from where I lived. I knocked at the door of the semi-detached building.
“Who’s there?”
Jephery’s voice came through the wooden panel. Jephery Eneje was my sister’s husband and father to their twins; a man in his early forties who looked younger than his age even though he was already going grey.
“It’s me.”
He opened the door wide and beamed a smile. “Simi, my favourite of the Oladeji sisters.”
“Don’t let your wife hear you say such things now.”
Chuckling, he ushered me in, locking the door behind me.
“Your aunt is here,” he announced my presence to the twins.
“Aunt Simi!” the twins echoed as they leapt off the couch and rushed to my side for a hug, almost knocking me down. The girls were nearly twelve, but they looked sixteen.
“What has your mum been feeding you guys? Fertiliser? I need to get some of it.”
They laughed and went back to their positions on the couch, both concentrating on their laptops. They had on their Spiderman pyjamas, making them look like mirror images of one another. It was challenging to know who was who sometimes.
No matter how hard I tried, I failed to differentiate them, so I came up with an ingenious system. “Lisa.”
“Yes?” one of them replied.
“Good, here take my bracelet so I can identify you.”
The other twin, Mona, laughed out loud.
“Who’s out there making you guys laugh?” my sister called from the kitchen.
“It’s your sister,” Jephery said. He turned down the sound of the television and increased the volume of the surround system.
The voice of the sensational Rhythm and Blues singer Teju encompassed the room. After taking home two Grammy awards the previous year and another two this year, his popularity had skyrocketed.
Ava emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a hanky.
Ava Eneje, my only sister and sibling and the centre of my world. She was a real African beauty with a smooth dark complexion and dark brown eyes that were hard to forget even after years or if you suddenly developed amnesia. Those eyes carried particular mystery about them you wanted to unravel if only to quench that burning curiosity.
After giving birth to the twins, she got rounder, making her even more beautiful. She was an epitome of sexiness, a quality I envied.
I somehow managed to remain stick thin despite my occasional binge eating. But I had my picture perfect eyebrows and creamy complexion going for me. It did not come cheap, though. What with all the skincare kits I bought every month or so.
“Mrs Eneje,” I greeted, making myself more comfortable on the tan leather sofa.
“You don’t look so good.”
“I had a bizarre dream last night. Then there was the fire after.”
“What fire?”
“My curtains spontaneously combusted.”
“Dear Lord. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was just as surprised too.”
I’m sure it’s the dryness. What’s it called? Static on fabric, I think. The Harmattan is harsh this year. Everywhere is so dry.”
“It’s probably that.”
“Have you been eating well?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“It’s true. I ate a bowl of jollof rice before coming here.” I lied.
“Hmmm,” she hummed.
“If you want to blame anyone, then blame Joshua. I got dumped.”
“What? Joshua broke up with you?”
Even the twins looked up.
“Yes. He could not handle my work hours. I forgot we had a date. It was the last straw, I guess.”
''How did you manage to forget a date with Joshua?''
"I volunteered to work." My chest tightened.
Hearing myself speak, I began to think maybe it was my fault. I could have not volunteered to work and yet I did. From the wrinkle on my sister's forehead, it was clear she thought so too but did not want to say anything.
“Don’t fret, dear,” Jephery consoled me. “I did not like him, anyway.”
It was the same thing over and over again.
“You’ll find a better man,” Ava said, putting her arms around me.
Something snapped inside me. I planned on keeping my depressing news to myself next time. Next time? My faith in the opposite sex and especially myself had diminished entirely if I was contemplating the next time I would get dumped.
“I’m sick and tired of men. They are all a bunch of cowards as far as I’m concerned. With you as an exception, Jephery.”
“Thanks.” He chuckled.
“Next time maybe I’ll just hit it and quit it,” I said with a sly smile.
“Simi! You cannot give up on men. I need to be your maid of honour. Don’t you dare deny me the position, I beg of you. So you promise me you’ll get out there and date some men. And certainly, no hitting and quitting.”
I thought about it for a few seconds and was about to say no but seeing the expression on my sister’s face, I had to say, “I promise.”
“That’s my girl,” she said, and her gaze fell on her daughters. “Are you two done with your homework?”
“We are,” they echoed.
“And?”
“We’ve sent it as an attachment to the teacher’s email.”
“The weirdo of a teacher,” Mona added sniggering.
“Don’t insult Mr Micah. He may behave strangely sometimes, but he deserves some respect, all teachers do,” Ava told her daughters, who were chuckling amongst themselves. “And for the love of God, go and take your baths. We have to go to the supermarket.”
They went upstairs, and my sister joined her husband on the couch. Lisa returned to retrieve her notebook.
“Lisa, can you help me with some water?” I asked.
“That’s Mona,’ Jephery said without looking at her daughter. My widened eyes fell on the girl who was now grinning. The joke was on me.
“Why do you girls always make a fool out of me?”
“And me,” my sister added.
“Because it’s fun,” Mona snickered.
“How do you tell them apart, Jeph?”
“Fatherly instinct, I suppose.”
“And what about motherly instinct?” I asked.
Mona interjected, “I think we were adopted.”
“If you were adopted, why then do your eyes look like mine, you silly girl? Why do you have my straight legs and the exact same scar I have on my right shoulder?”
Mona hugged her mother.
“I love you, Mum,” she said before bounding up the stairs.
“I love you too.”
“What about your father? No love for him?” Jephery inquired.
“Love you, Dad.” It was Lisa who replied from the top of the stairs, staring down, toothbrush in hand. “You too, Aunt Simi.”
“Those kids. They never fail to make us laugh. And worry,” Ava said with pride in her eyes.
I wanted children, but my recent run-ins with the species that made it possible f
or reproduction daunted my will. I left for the hospital after Ava and the kids went to the supermarket.
Later that day, Dr Ekwebelem, one of the new ER doctors, rushed to me as I filed in patients’ records. I looked up at her from the computer as she tried to get all her words out at once. “We need you and whoever is available in the ER stat. Accident victims on the highway.”
I hurried to the ER to meet a horrid sight.
There were so many people injured and fighting for their lives. Monitors once beeping went flat. Cries once heard went silent. The driver who was brought in with his head severely wounded, repeatedly shouted that he did not want to die. A few seconds later, a doctor called his time of death.
“Can you please attend to the patient in exam room five?” Dr Peters, another ER doctor asked. “He has been waiting for the past three hours. Finish up and get back out here.”
He rushed past me to attend to a victim with a badly burned face.
“Sure thing,” I replied.
As I passed the waiting room, I noticed two orderlies bringing a huge Christmas tree, with a bag of ornaments trailing behind them. It was the same routine every year. The Christmas tree was delivered a few days to Christmas, and then the carols serenaded the halls of the hospital; whether the patients or employees felt the jolly goodness of the holiday spirits or not.
I opened the door, and the patient who sat on the bed had his back to me. I needn’t have looked at his face to recognise who the person was. His name on the chart had already given him up.
“Femi Bamidele,” I gasped.
“Simi, Simi Oladeji? Is that you?” he asked with a wide smile.
“Wow,” he added, hugging me with his left arm wound around me. Femi and I had attended the University of Ibadan. We were both studying Biochemistry for a year and a half until he left for some unknown reason.
“How long has it been? Six, seven years, I think.”
“Seven,” he stated.
“You’ve really grown. Now you have a moustache, and you’ve grown taller and bigger. Age suits you.”
“No one thought I would, but I proved them wrong. But look at you, you grew up beautifully.”
Femi had been a skinny boy who looked too young for his age. Most people had treated him like an adolescent, and he had hated it. Even with all his petite qualities, it did not stop me from admiring him or agreeing to be his girlfriend, making him my very first boyfriend. Now here he was looking incredibly buff. Life liked to play mind games on people. I took up his x-ray and examined it.
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