Chapter 18

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Wet patches on my boxers jolted me up from the bed this evening. I opened my eyes and stared at the thatched ceiling, unable to recall the last time I had the experience. It must have been in my high school days or so I thought.

The digits on my phone displayed 10:30 p.m. I got up observing the parabolic curve between my legs. Outside, the wind spoke men's languages; it whistled and rustled giving warnings of impending showers. I peeped through the window, but saw a clear cloud.

I had slept earlier than usual after returning from school tired. But I couldn't return to bed as my eyes remained wide open. For the first time since my arrival in Glenmore, I wished a woman stayed by my side. I sat up thinking about my stay in Port-Elizabeth.

The biting evening cold got me doubting if I could survive four weeks without seeing Yenzo. Back in Johannesburg, such bulges meant it was time for her to visit. Being nowhere around, I held on to memories of the good times we had.

"Should I travel Friday evening and return Sunday night? No."

It would be stressful travelling such a long distance to be with her for one day. The bulge would soon flatten out, and all would be well.

That I lived alone didn't help matters. A ladies' man like me was going through the test of endurance; a test of loyalty. Female delicacies lined up in my front, yet I lacked the appetite to consume them.

Not the type to joke with ladies issues, the promises made to Yenzo and the desire for good appraisals kept me in check.

I'd since learnt a lot more about myself here. I could adapt to different environments without hassles. When not teaching at the school, all I did was sleep, boil water, read and prepare for the next lessons. Watching movies was my other favourite activity.

"Hand over the laptop to Mr Mutetey for entertainment," the principal said to his secretary the other day and she promptly did so. The school laptop had since served as my home TV.

Movie clips to watch weren't an issue. My external hard disk had them stored in style. Sometimes, BBC or VOA blared from my MP3 player. But that only came on when I wanted to get a hang on the political issues around the world.

The radio did a good job linking me up with civilization. I always left it on whether or not I was home, as a sign that someone lived in my room, just in case an intruder wanted to pop in.

In the last three days or so, soft knocks bounced off my window. I'd assumed the sound came from the radio station. This evening that I was up and alert, I heard it loud and clear. Someone lurked around my hut knocking on the panes. Why anyone would stay out there in the cold puzzled me.

When the urge to pee gripped me, I made for the urinal. On my way back, a lady stood by my door at the same familiar spot. Covered all over, her outfit was the same as before. It should be Funeka or Deliwe, I imagined. Those were the only girls living in the compound. "I will talk to her this time."

"What are you doing outside by this time of the night?"

"Can I come inside?" she asked, looking pensive.

"Sure, why not?"

My reply was rather impulsive. I couldn't stay outside in that cold and start questioning her. Since sleep had eluded me, I saw an opportunity to chat with someone, even if late in the night.

She got into the room, waited for me to step in, latched the door and sat on the bed. Before I could utter a word, she uncovered her face partially. Just as earlier assumed, it was Deliwe, one of my landlord's daughters.

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