Resurgence

18. Silent Noise

“He who does not understand your silence, will probably not understand your words.” – Elbert Hubbard.

•••

Fisayo leaned forward and jammed the elevator button on Lani’s behalf, before motioning forward with her right hand that they head inside. On board the elevator, her heart beat picked up—matching the rapid thrumming of the elevator’s ding. For some reason it was ringing more frequently than usual, instead of its original setting of going off intermittently at the arrival of a new floor. The malfunction had been in place for a long time now, but apparently the administration didn’t deem its repairing necessary since the carriage itself wasn’t impaired or damaged. Typical Nigerian mentality.

It was the evening of Friday and as scheduled—Fisayo had arrived with her outfit and accessories that she was going to wear for Tari’s celebratory dinner event. They had planned he’d pick her up at 7:00 A.M. en route to the location and she was more than ready for his arrival. She was all decked out in her navy blue glitter-lace cocktail dress with a short beaded neck and geometric neckline. Her five-inch tall silver Elissa nude shoes gave her a major height boost over her friend whose gaze was still examining her carefully, as if she had missed something. When the elevator doors parted, they alighted hurriedly and walked in haste.

“You know, I just realized that ever since we got out of school, this is the first time that I’m legit preparing you for a date.” Fisayo said, as they crossed the length of the receptive lounge, which lighting was dim—making the details of their surroundings obscure. “Which is like really pathetic because we have been living together for how many years now?”

“Three years—” Lani started.

“And taking into consideration the number of years that we practically lived together as roommates in school, it’s about six or seven years. And yet I never prepared you for this type of thing.” Fisayo intercepted her reply. “Would you believe me if I told you that one time I thought that there was a possibility that you could—”

“Be gay?” Lani finished for her friend, as she swung the door open. The premises of the building was mostly deserted, save the handful of security men on patrol.

“No, not gay.” Fisayo shook her head, finding it a bit difficult to match her gaze because of the fact that she was wearing plain flip flops, beneath a black shift gown with a figurine emblem in its center. “I thought that the tragedy of the past that you didn’t want to tell me about for a long time was well—rape. Like I assumed last Saturday, before you corrected me and went ahead to give me the full gist.”

“Well, like I told you it wasn’t rape.” She clarified, jutting out her head in the direction of an unoccupied wooden bench. They settled down and she clutched her Chanel classic flap bag tightly in her hands.

“Yeah, yeah it wasn’t rape.” Fisayo drawled, jiggling her legs forward with her hands braced on both of her sides. “I just couldn’t help but think it was that and that was why you were so bitter towards every man that came along. But after you explained everything it made total sense. Why you could still fall for him again despite everything. Still, when I think more on it, I just can’t fight the feeling that what happened before is just repeating itself—”

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t talk about this,” Lani gritted her teeth, giving her friend a cold look. “We made a pact that after I told you this, we wouldn’t revisit the topic again for whatever reason ever. I just don’t like talking about it, Fisayo. Try and understand. Besides it reminds me of Tari in a very horrifying, self absorbed way that I want to believe he has grown past.”