“It’s not that you should never love something so much that it can control you. It’s that you need to love something that much, so you can never be controlled. It’s not a weakness, it’s your best strength.” – Patrick Ness.
•••
The car grinded to a halt, bringing with it—Tari’s thoughts to an abrupt end. The drive with Lani from the site had kicked off with lively banter, characterized with jeers and slurs, but the energy had fizzled out over time as a result of the escalating pain in his head that only heightened upon the passing of every minute. Lani had spared him the need of having to use his mouth for any reason that could trigger more grounds for pain and so had stopped engaging in him conversation, even when he had insisted he could hold his own against the pain.
She was being overbearingly caring.
Her attitude was enough to take him back on a journey of ten years—down the memory lane of when he was in a similar position like the current one. Bruised and battered, in need of serenity and aid—she had willingly provided him with a shelter and her care even when it could have been termed inappropriate and overboard by onlookers and outsiders who weren’t in the loop. Her teenage person was shot through the soul with many flaws but one thing that couldn’t be faulted or criticized was her big, warm heart which was perhaps one of her most disarming and winsome traits.
The other highlight of the memory streaming through his head was the way it ended. The way that night had ended. It hadn’t been unexpected to the point that it made him bewildered or enraged—it was a climax that they both knew was inherent and was going to happen eventually. But that alone wasn’t able to cancel out its surprise element. If anything, it piqued it.
“Thanks for the ride,” He broke the silence finally, meeting her doting gaze that was studying him intently. “It’s a good thing that you insisted on driving me here. I’d have probably passed out if I was the one driving. The pain was that hammering from even this seat.”
“I’d say I told you so, but you aren’t impulsive,” Her smile dissolved into a smirk. “And also—thank you for the ride. Man, riding this your car is like being hit by a fresh breeze and a breath of fresh air also. I’ve always known my good driving skills weren’t put into good use in my small Mercedes. At least, today I got to test its versatility.”
“Yeah, right.” He said. “So um, this is where I say good bye then I guess.”
“Yeah, Tari. I guess this is goodbye for now.” She repeated after him, before tearing her gaze away and turning to her left to push the door of the car open. “I uh, you should definitely get going now. So see you on Monday, then?”
“I’m not sure about that,” He said, to his own dismay. “I have a lot of paperwork to finish up in the office. Plus, work is technically done at the site. I’d probably come in twice or thrice in this coming week but it’s definitely not Monday. We’d see about that anyway.”
“Oh,” Her voice fell, and a look of sobriety took up residence on her face. He was taken aback by this, since she wasn’t one to let on that she was hurt. She always concealed that perfectly. “I see, well till we see again next week.”
It was then he knew that he simply couldn’t just let her leave like that. “Uh, why don’t you come in for a drink or two?” Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed at him. “I mean, like if that’s not okay by you—I could just run in and bring out the drink, which is coffee by the way. I’m guessing you take coffee? If you don’t there are like tons of other stuff to take, my wine cellar just got replenished but it’s a little too early for champagne isn’t it? Ah, we could do anything you want.”
She was giggling when she replied. “It’s okay, Tari I’m okay with going inside I guess. And are you sure that you don’t need to like, leave me here in the car for a while and go inside the house to put it into order before I step in? You wouldn’t want me thinking things about you if we walk in and I see everywhere disorganized. Don’t worry, I totally understand. Waiting isn’t a problem.”
He scoffed. “My house is in order, thank you very much. In fact, I’m the one who should be giving you some time to prepare your mind and brace yourself for the state of tidiness and beauty that you’re going to meet inside. You sure you want to do this? I’ve collapsed already today, you don’t need to collapse also. I won’t be able to help you much since I’m still battling with my own headache, you know.”
“It’s on, Tari.” She announced, before pushing the door open and stepping down from the car. He alighted from the vehicle also, leading the way into the building with Lani walking in a slow, steady space—taking in her surroundings. That was when he realized she was pretty much the first person paying him a private visit. Oh, how pathetic his social life was.
The automated light sensors installed in the house sensed entrance, and automatically the lights came on and the house beamed to life like a football stadium, before a big, defying fixture. He caught whiff of Lani’s eyes widening as she examined the room. They were in the center of the master living room that, was adjoined to a dining room at its end and a hallway in another. Lani stepped onto the cotton center mat, where the center table was perched and the lush upholstery of couches and throw pillows surrounded her in semi circles, like a cup shape.
Everything in the room was pretty much in pristine condition. From his antiquated chandeliers, to the intricate curtains, to the walls coated in thorn-like paints that made them appear alive and rigid. He couldn’t be more proud about the state of things and his apparent tidiness. But he knew that it wasn’t solely because he was an organized person. He spent more time outside the house than inside, so it was hardly prone to disruption of its factory installed format. He had also employed the services of a maid to keep things in optimum condition.
“I know right, you wish your place could be like this.” He stated pompously, with folded arms. He had caused her to spin around to face him. “But it can’t—because well, you’re a mere mortal in keeping things clean and tidy. The only thing you can do is wish.”
“Who said I’m impressed?” Her eyebrow rose, as she closed the gap between them, tugging him down on the nearest couch so they could sit. Ah, so she was the one calling the shots in his own house? “I’m impressed by the state of things yeah, but I’m not envying you or wishing I was like you. There is one thing that’s very obvious, one thing that the walls of the houses are screaming out really loud.”
“The walls can’t talk yet,” He frowned. “It’s in the bible, that the walls around us won’t testify against us until judgment day. Judgment day isn’t here yet, and if it was here—we should be panicking because apparently, we didn’t get raptured. We’re about to go through all sorts of hell on earth here, if we want to make sure we don’t end up in hell fire at the end of the day.”
“Shut up, and let me talk.” She said in a threatening voice. “Like I said, anyone that comes in here with half a brain—like the one I have—would realize that this house is just too clean and tidy for anyone to be living in—”
“Like I said, you and everyone else in existence that could have whatsoever reason for visiting me here are mortals, while I on the other hand, am immortal.”
“Oh really? You want me to test that theory and see if you’re really immortal and free from the power of death by suffocating you with this pillow.” She picked up the nearest throw pillow, and held it up in his face like a gun, cautioning his excesses. His mouth slammed shut, instantly. “Good, I didn’t think so. Now as I was saying,” She rolled her eyes, straightened out her outfit by the waist and crossed her legs neatly, folding it to the side at a small angle. “This house is just too clean and tidy for anyone to be living in. Meaning no one lives in this house. That’s what I’m driving at here.”
“Um,” He raised his right hand to her face and flicked his index finger over his thumb, producing a snap sound. “Remember me? Tari Ibiyemi from several years back in the University of Ibadan? Good, we met late last month, or last year, whichever is appropriate—to collaborate on building the dream home of one of Africa’s most celebrated writers. Yeah, remember me now? Good, I’m the one who lives here.”
She tittered. “Stop being so quirky, Tari. I think you know what I’m driving at. Look around yourself,” She paused to wave her arms, haphazardly about. “This place doesn’t look like a person is living in it. It looks like a brand new house that has just been recently purchased and it says a lot about the amount of time you spend in it.”
“Aren’t you the one who scorns at my recluse life and encourage me to go out more?”
“Yeah, well I’d be happy about that fact if the going out in that statement ended up in a party. Or a friend’s house—or any social event at all. But I know it ends up at work. Matter of fact, this place isn’t like your home. It’s just a kid of yours. You know like an illegitimate kid no one knows of.”
“An illegitimate kid?”
“Yeah, a child that lives with her mother but for some reason or the other, you can’t tell the world about them and so you’re very secretive about them. You visit from time to time, spend little time before taking off again to your usual life or am I lying? That analogy perfectly fits into the description of your relationship with this house, Tari. You don’t have people over, which means you don’t tell no one about it and you come here regularly every night to sleep like it’s an obligation. It’s not a home, it’s not even a house. It’s a place.”
He couldn’t argue with such precise intuition and examination. He could only stall and divert the topic into another place in the hopes that she wouldn’t catch his mischief.
“So can you give me the magic spell that I’d use to transform this place into a home?”
“Love, Tari.” She replied. “We both know what you need is true love. You fall in love, get married, fill this place up with kids and then energy seeps in and there is life and vigor and all. You open up more to your colleagues at work, become less uptight—let them see you as a real person. Develop a relationship with them, get invited to social events concerning them and they start to visit you from time to time.”
“Lani—” He started.
“Be more spontaneous, step out of your comfort zone to do things that aren’t on your timetable or itinerary, whatever you call it. Once in a while, try new things. Travel, and when you’re in a position to socialize, don’t neglect it or be rude. Be nicer to people, become less absorbed—maybe even pick up that phone and call your old friends from way back.
“They won’t kill you over the phone and brand you as an enemy. Everyone deserves a second chance, no matter how messed up they are and you aren’t that bad a person. And I know most would be happy and willing to let you back in now that you’re a boss. Word has pretty much gotten around our mates back then in school that you’re now a very successful architect.”
“Yeah, right.” He groaned, looking away and refusing to meet Lani’s intense gaze, as though it would make all his problems disappear. “Because long distance friends that you previously had a relationship with but went sour eventually, so love it when you turn out way better than them and are always very un-jealous and not insecure when you show up at their doorstep unannounced or you call their cell.”
“No, but well ah—it takes a certain burden away from your heart.” To his surprise, Lani’s hands cupped his chin and turned his face until his eyes was on hers once more. “Don’t you feel unsettled or I don’t know—guilty? I won’t say guilty per se, but don’t you feel like you owe it to them to take another shot at that life, even if you feel that you don’t deserve it anymore?”
“No, not really.” He shook his head and it was the truth. Lonely, he was—but it was nothing he couldn’t handle, especially when he was so occupied with work. It wasn’t until she came into his life that he started craving for the type of warmth that could be found only in the company of human. “I don’t really think about it. Actually, I don’t do much thinking or living. It’s not my style to pity myself for whatever position I’m in currently. I just handle day by day struggles as it comes and I don’t worry about tomorrow.”
“And there has never been a time, where you just felt lonely and it was so hammering?”
His throat bobbed. “There have been days like that. Of course there are always days like that in the lives of everyone, not to talk of mine. But just like they say or should say, one might not be able to get used to pain to the point that it becomes neutral no matter how constant it is, but you can learn how to absorb, endure and live with it. I’ve been this way for a really long time and while it’s not a fantastic thing, it’s just something I’ve come around to accepting.”
Her head tilted to one side, like there was some inscription on the side of his face and she was trying to read it. “Sometimes, I feel that I could write an essay on you. No, not an essay. It’d be too short to tell everything about you. An entire book is the only thing that could suffice in attempting to explain the things you battle with that are so numerous and could prove invaluable advice to the public.”
“I know I’m that awesome, trust me. You’re not the first person that has told me they’d like to write a book about me.” He hissed, as her balled fist shot low into his rib. “But books are boring—”
“Books are boring?” Her eyes widened.
“I mean, yeah. It’d be better if you take a more romantic approach to it, write an anthology of poems…” He trailed off when her aghast expression remained. “Um, what’s the problem?”
“You just said books are boring, so like in my head I’m planning multiple scenarios of how I’m going to hit you very hard over the head with something that could inflict real injury and run out of the house, because obviously you’re not the real Tari Ibiyemi. You’re a clone, a bad clone who doesn’t know how to pretend and play his part well. Isn’t that like the first thing that was drilled into your head by your manufacturer. Books are life. That’s the real Tari’s motto, by the way.”
He chortled, holding a hand over his chest while she put her disheveled curls back in order. Right here under the dim glow of the room, her dark complexion had never been more immaculate or unsullied. Her beauty had hit apex if there was a level like that and it was taking every single drop of resistance fuel he had left in his body to keep his defense generator running. He feared he was going to run out of fuel soon.
“Books are boring, doesn’t mean I don’t love them.” He laughed. “It’s true, you could like something that isn’t really fun. It’s the way a lot of girls really love sleep, to the extent that they could sleep for half of the day and yet when you ask them how interesting their day was, they’d say it was really bad and that they’re bored out of their mind.”
“Hmm,” Her intonation dipped in a way that connoted comprehension. “So, if books are boring to you, what’s fun then? Oh, do I even need to ask? You’re just going to say work.”
“You know me so well,” He said. “To me, the theoretical aspect of learning sucks. It’s the practical aspect that I love. Back then in school, my face was always so lightened up during practical classes and I was always so concentrated that you’d think there was some sort of cash prize for devotion going around to reward people for their input and I wanted it so badly. Matter of fact, nothing could literally put me out of a good mood before or after a practical class.”
“Except the cancellation of the class, of course.” She pointed out, stirring further laughter from him. “Oh boy, I just remembered the reason why I’m here sitting and talking with you in the first place. You told me to come inside for a drink and not a talk, and here I am without any drink. It was a trick just so you could lure me inside and spend more time with me, isn’t it?”
The memory of the offer he made several minutes ago, came crashing down from where it had been lodged out of sight. It didn’t render her statement wrong, though. It was all in an elaborate ploy to spend more time with her, but of course, he had planned to make the drink for her still.
“Give me a moment, I’d be right—” He was standing up, but her fingers gripped his forearm and she pressed him down back into the seat.
“It’s okay, I don’t need the drink. I didn’t come here for it anyway.” His stomach began to flutter in affection, but her next statement sounded a death knoll on the uprising. “I came here to see if your house was tidy or dirty, of course. I mean, what else. I was really hoping that I could rub it in your face or something later on in the future when we meet for one reason or the other.”
“Well, that’s obviously not happening. You sure you don’t want anything at all? Not even water?”
“I’m okay, Tari. Really.” Her hand patted his forearm again, infecting it with its warmth before she pulled away and lowered her gaze to her wristwatch. “I still have a couple of minutes to spare, before I can rush back. I’m enjoying this though. Your house is very big and shallow, yet cozy and with substance. I don’t know how you executed it.”
“And you automatically assumed I’m the one who built the house?” He queried. “I don’t remember telling you such.”
“I’m not dumb. Asking an architect whether or not he is responsible for the design of his own house is like asking a chef if he or she cooks the food that they eat. It’s really that obvious. Yeah, they could buy takeouts but the thing is that, experts usually view the effort of average people in the field as subpar and wouldn’t want anything less than the highest quality. Or am I wrong?”
“Once again, you hit the nail on the head—and you’re right. I’m responsible for the design of this house. I guess the way I was able to pull it off was to make the big rooms compact, and eliminate unnecessary lighting. Dark rooms always appear small, and if they’re big, the overall size sort off reduces in the eyes of the observer, so you get my drift. Plus, I really don’t like bright places and all.”
“Yeah, no shit. You’re not exactly a bright person either. No pun intended.”
“I don’t know, I just love darkness. Not absolute darkness, but one of moderate level. My favorite times are when the rain is falling and the clouds settle in, making every where dark and the insides of houses—magical and all. Then I happily pull my shutters, prepare a cup of coffee and watch a movie at the type of volume that can make people visit you in your house for cautioning.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, I understand what you mean when you say things become more magical when there is little lighting and there is a type of darkness of some sort in the background. But that’s just an easy way to achieve magical. Don’t you know that it’s even more difficult to make things more beautiful and obvious when there are a lot of lights? And everything pretty much stands out, not because it’s that attractive, but well—it’s light. So in turn, making things stand out where everything else is already standing out is true magical to me.”
“I guess you have a point,” He said. “But I still prefer my type of magical, thank you very much.”
“Okay, okay. I’m not forcing anything on you or something.” She raised her arms up in surrender. “So...what fun thing do you do around here? I mean there has to be something asides watching TV, right? And I saw some books in the corner over there. What else is around here?”
“I was thinking of getting an X-Box One but I kept on postponing it for one reason or the other since it came out, and now I still haven’t gotten one yet.” He sighed. “Sometimes, I think I’m cursed with boredom.”
“Why an X-Box though? Everyone in this part of the world pretty much prefers PlayStation to X-Box.”
“Yeah, that’s the point. I’ve not really tried out any of them, but the reason why I don’t want to get a PlayStation is because everyone has a PlayStation and if there is anything about myself that I’ve come about to realizing in the past twenty seven years that I’ve spent on earth is that I’m quite peculiar and I hardly like what a lot of people like. So yeah, X-Box.”
Lani shook her head. “People don’t like PlayStation better simply because there is a stigma attached to it or because it’s so different from X-Box. There are slight differences. Some games are better on X-Box, while some are better on PlayStation. A friend of mine told me football and other sport games are better on PlayStation but Action and Adventure games are at their best on X-Box, but while I’ve not being able to confirm that, I have noticed that the game play of the call of duty on my brother’s PlayStation isn’t as mind blowing as I’d have expected. Or maybe it’s just me and my tendency to set expectations that are impossible to meet.”
“Really?” The enlightenment was definitely helpful. “I think I’m definitely going with the X-Box. I’m more of an Assassins’ Creed guy than FIFA. There is something predictable about football games, no matter how fun they might be. That turns me off. I mean, even if the difficulty level is set at its highest, you know someone is going to win the same way. By scoring a goal. But anything goes in adventure games. You could get stuck on a level and not be able to progress, you could get killed, you could run out of time—”
“You and who?” Lani eyed him warily, and that was when he detected the incorrect construction of his words. “Your character in the game biko, not me.”
“Fine, the character in the game could fall victim to so many fates that you have absolutely no idea of or predict either. That’s the fun, but then different strokes for different folks.”
“Yeah, different strokes for different folks.” She repeated his words, stressing it gently as a comfortable silence dawned on them. “Your eyes, though.” She reached out to his eye lid with her right thumb, sending a jolt of electricity on a course round his body. “They look really tired and sleep-deprived. Are you sure you have been taking my advice?”
“Trust me,” He nodded gently, in a conscious effort to not push her hand away. He was enjoying the warmth coming from her body, and wasn’t quite sure he ever wanted to let go of it. “But it’s like I told you before. It’s like I have been cursed or something. I can’t really explain it, but anytime I try to sleep more—it’s like I sleep less. It’s just torture.”
“Someone once told me that the reason why some people find it difficult to sleep isn’t because they have some sort of health complication,” Her hand finally dropped. “It’s because they battle too many demons in their minds and hardly have peaceful, good thoughts before they sleep.”
“Well I don’t battle demons, or something—”
“I’m just saying that the next time you want to sleep, you should think of something that makes you feel really happy or alive. Hold on to it because that’s your key to a peaceful sleep. It’s very sensible. I remember that all the time that I have good conversation with people in the hours before I go to bed, I fall asleep real quick because I feel very satisfied and happy. You know the same way you’d fall asleep real fast, if the dude you’ve been checking out for months walked up to you to start a conversation and you also didn’t screw everything up. You’d sleep and wake up with a smile on your face.”
“Yeah, and on shitty days you’d find it difficult to fall asleep fast because you’re troubled. I guess you’re indirectly trying to say that I have a lot of shitty days and so that prevents me from sleeping well?”
“That’s your guilty conscience talking there,” She poked him gently on the rib. “What I mean is, perhaps you have a lot on your mind that troubles you. You need to find something that makes you really happy and alive, narrow it down and think about it before you sleep. It’d go a long way in helping you sleep well. And you might even have good dreams.”
“I don’t know about that. Sounds only efficient in making me fall asleep, it might not be able to keep me in dreamland for a long time.”
“Don’t be so quick to oppose everything, Tari. Give it a shot. C’mon think of something that makes you happy. Let me help you to narrow things down. For instance, I love travelling and so I could think of being in places that I’ve seen in movies. Example, picture me chilling at the top of the Burj Khalifa—”
“You know you can’t exactly stay at the top, right? It’s a hotel—”
“Wow, you’re such a bubble popper.” She groaned. “Anyway, you get the idea. That is something that works for me. What works for you? What makes you happy?”
“You,” The truth had become too large and too heavy for him to keep in, and so he had no choice than to let it out. Her facial expression that was infused with charisma had deflated, reducing to a more solemn and funereal one. Her shoulders slumped and her comport became pensive, yet not glum; brooding yet not austere. He must have touched on a couple of nerves and he wasn’t backing down yet. “You make me happy, Lani. You’re the only thing that does. So do you think you’d be okay with the idea of me thinking about you every night before I sleep?”
She seemed to become stiffer upon the passing every second, and he began to fear that she might turn to a statue soon. He wished she’d say something, anything at all to either disbar his blatant announcement of affection or to accept it. But she remained motionless and completely unreadable. Taking a bold step of faith and a wild gamble also, he raised his right hand to her neck, nuzzling it so that his fingers gripped the crane of her neck tightly and his thumb caressed her cheek gently.
“I really want to kiss you now, Lani.”
And so he waited. He waited for her outburst, waited for the detonation of her fury that must have been brewing for the past few seconds, waited for her usual hostile response that would put a pestle over his heart and pound it until it was shattered but none came. Nothing came, and that alone was a green light for him. He pulled the trigger.
When their lips met, the resulting sensation was one that gripped a person when they returned to the vicinity of their home after being stranded on a foreign, unpleasant land. The euphoria streaked into his senses, heightening his hormones and setting off a series of chain reactions that spurred the flaring of electric sparks in his body, coursing in light speed and in numerous directions in a way that could easily be termed as hazardous.
She responded with an urgency that matched his, grabbing onto his face at first but then sliding an arm down his chest as she snuggled closer and molded her body closer to his. He could sense his tank of desire overflowing and flooding his system—crashing about in wild waves round his body and wrecking all kinds of havoc.
His right hand involuntarily slid down to her waist, leaving a trail of fire in its path that made her moan and edge even closer to him. Her body frame felt so perfect, like a piece of LEGO fitting into its appropriate attachment. He continued to caress the small of her back gently, while she took over the reins of the kiss and devoured his lips totally. They didn’t stop until they had to come up for air.
Their foreheads were glued, as they both exhaled and inhaled deeply to catch their breath and then their gazes met, but unlike before when her face was clean of all emotions – it was embedded with an array of want and craving that matched his. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I—I thought you’d stop me or something.” He croaked.
“I’m not sorry.” And then she pulled his head down to hers once again and claimed what was rightfully hers. In everyone’s life there usually came a time when the pleasure of the moment was usually too great, too criminal to be considered legitimate. The type of pleasure that could only be classified as forbidden. The current moment was his, and he knew that such moments hardly occurred more than once. He was going to savor it for as long as it’d last.
His hands began to run laps up and down her curves, down to her hips and up to the curve of her breasts, while her hands grappled his neck like she wanted to throttle him. Groaning in pleasure, his hands began to fumble with the button of her Skidler shrugs so he could remove the clothe barricade and have the pleasure to feel the fire on her body, unhinged. She was too engrossed with kissing him to take notice of this and didn’t react until he was slipping the jacket of her body.
Then her lips stiffened and she pulled away.
“I wasn’t undressing you,” He said too quickly for someone who had been kissing her passionately a couple of seconds ago. “I just wanted to take the jacket off, that’s all. Not like I was implying that we go to bed or something.”
She wasn’t soothed by his words. She shuffled away from him on the couch and buried her head into her face, as if regretting that she had taken a decision that wasn’t wise. Did she regret kissing him? Wasn’t she the one who pulled him in back and told him she wasn’t sorry after his initial attempt?
“Tari, I—I have to go.” She cleared her throat, her voice very weighty. “Thanks for having me over, I had a good time.” She had risen to her feet already, and was draping her jacket back on—her face back to being hostile and unreadable.
“Lani, we have to talk about this—”
“But I really have to go now,” She cut him off swiftly, and whirled around—heading out in a very swift pace that he almost couldn’t match despite his height. He tried to latch on to her wrist but she pulled hard at him and gave him a look that made him freeze in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Tari. I can’t do this.”
And with that she departed and hurried out of the gate, and he could only watch helplessly like he was washed up on the shores of a deserted island, abandoned by an enemy sailing away in a ship. He sighed, raking his hair with his hand before heading back in to reflect on what had truly happened. He couldn’t comprehend much, but her last words stuck in his head like the headache that had been pounding him for the past few minutes.
“I can’t do this.”
*****
The scent of a homey, pleasant fragrance of the air freshener filled his lungs as they stepped through the front porch and into the apartment. His sight was restricted as a result of the darkness until Lani moved away from his side to put on the light, bringing the apartment to life. Or rather, the living room that they were currently in.
He found himself standing behind a three-seater leather couch, which faced a shelf of electronic equipment consisting of a flat screen TV, a decoder and a boom-box in a descending order from the top of the shelf. The rest of the spacious room was vacant in terms of furniture, save a wooden center table, a home theatre with speakers that were towering black poles and a stash of CD’s piled up in a corner, just a few inches from the TV shelf. The walls of the house were painted in moderate, plain colors and the cotton curtains appeared a tad old—with their seams protruding and coming off. Although, the tiles on the ground seemed daintily clean.
“Have your seat,” She gestured to the three-seater, which was the lone couch in the room. Although it was quite old, the foam and cushioning effect was quite pleasurable and he felt instant relief as he sank into it, the pain that he suffered from his previous encounter still zinging through his body. “I hope you’re not disappointed, though. I wonder you must have been expecting something really extravagant or the likes.”
While he had indeed expected more, he wouldn’t exactly ascribe his current feeling to disappointment. It was somewhat in the middle bearings of impressed and apathetic, although much more closer to apathetic.
“Well, you, Dunni and Tracy are students, so of course I wasn’t expecting a mansion when I pictured your house in my head.” He replied, clasping his hands and adjusting his position on the chair so as to free up space for her to sit also. “I just sort off expected there would be like more chairs you know. I mean there is just one chair here, which I’m guessing you all sit on because well, you’re just three.”
Lani looked amused. “Actually nope. One person usually sits here at a time, leaving two of us to stay on the floor. It’s either we bring in our beds from our room and lay it here, and then eventually take it back or just lie down on the floor like that. I can’t do that though, it feels too exposed to the ground but Dunni doesn’t have a problem with that.”
“I see. And you guys never discussed saving together to get more chairs? I mean, it’s necessary isn’t it?”
“It is, but it’s not exactly something we can’t do without. Actually our parents did drop money for that, but because we had more pressing needs and realized that there is really nothing we would gain from having so many chairs, we bought only one and used the money.”
“More pressing needs like nail polish and make up kits, right?” He humored her and sent her into a fit of laughter.
“No, actually I’m not that shallow.” She sat up on the chair, with her legs crossed and her hands occupied with losing her short hair from a compact bun that she had bundled it into earlier. “I needed cash for some textbooks and some course projects at the time, so I just used it to pay for it. When the money for that eventually came—well I won’t say I squandered it. I can’t really account for it to be honest. I used it mostly for miscellaneous stuff.”
“I know right,” He could relate well with that. “They say nothing travels faster than light, but money does. If you’re not careful you’d use up money meant for an entire month for just a couple of days.”
“When school resumed at first, I thought I was cursed. I was spending money so frequently that I thought someone was stealing it or that I was being careless with it and so it was getting lost.” Lani said. “It took me a while to get used to day to day spending, without being carelessly lavish. It also helps that my roommates are also my closest friends here on compound and so as a result of that, we pool our resources together and help each other out. I’ve learned to rely on the girls a lot and vice versa. It’d be difficult for me to do stuff on my own again.”
“Girls though,” Tari said. “You guys are the usually the best of friends in all ramifications. It has never occurred to me once to ever try to lean on my roommates and vice versa.”
“Vice versa?” Her brows rose. “Are you sure you could speak for the others though? You’re an independent person because of your background, Tari—but maybe the boys ask each other for help and you may not have taken cognizance of that because you’re only about your own business and all that. But let’s not talk about that too much. You came here so you could rest and regain your energy, but before you sleep I think you should eat something.”
He gritted his teeth as he considered the offer. There was something foreign about accepting food offered to him by a host—that was appalling, but there was no threat in it. It was simply the way his mentality had been formulated as a result of the harsh constraints associated with his background. Courtesy demanded that he accept it with grateful arms.
“Okay then. What do you have at home?” He asked her, as she rose to her feet.
“There is nothing at home, asides from leftover cake in the freezer,” She said with folded arms, and a ruminating glare. “And a couple of drinks also. So what do you say about that?”
“I don’t feel like eating anything heavy anyway,” He called out to her retreating figure, that disappeared into an adjoining room by the left. He let his gaze roam his surroundings once again, taking in details that he had previously digested. On a second look, the scenery looked more organized and even more attractive but there were some underlying details that seemed out of place. Like a folded black napkin on the Dish decoder and the CD lying fallow on top of the TV, as well as a throw pillow—which he guessed belonged to the chair he was sitting on—lodged behind the shelf.
These little details were things that a normal observer would miss but not him.
Lani returned just in time with a saucer in one hand, one containing a huge chunk of chocolate cake perched on it and a can drink in the other. She set it gently on the couch, in the space between them.
“There you go,” He plucked the saucer out of her hand gently, and placed it on his lap and then set the can drink on the floor after gazing at its champagne and maroon dotted body and reading out the text in cursive font. Ginger Beer.
He helped himself to the cake, slicing a small portion and dumping it in his mouth in glee. Her eyes were on him and he couldn’t afford to eat in an unhinged, animalistic way he would if he was all alone. It was tasty enough to elicit him running his tongue over his mouth in a stealth way.
“Ah, so you like it.” She grinned, and he had cause to believe she made the cake. “Dunni and I prepared it about two nights ago and we’ve been economizing the life out of it. We really do not want it to finish because there isn’t a lot of money to buy ingredients or time to bake one again. Tracy has stolen several slices and this is about the last one, but since it’s ending up in your own stomach, I guess it’s worth it.”
“I really appreciate it, Lani.” He said in between a mouthful and a sip of ginger beer. “You know this really takes my mind back to those Enid Blyton novels that I used to read while I was in primary school.”
“Oh really?” She sat up.
“Yeah, if you can remember in those stories they had chocolate cake and ginger beer a lot of times, or was it tea now? I can’t really remember, but it was chocolate cake.” He said. “Those books were really gold. I wish I could go back in time to when I was younger so I can read them again and savor the flavor. If I try reading it now, it wouldn’t interest me in anyway.”
“I know right? There were a couple of them but I can recall reading, The Magic Brush, The Magic Ice Cream and so much more that had Magic in its title. They were so goofily hilarious and funny. And the characters also added more spice to it. Like the elves with the funny ears and the goblins? Well, let me just say if there were a lot of books as entertaining as that—I’d definitely read.”
“Well, those days are totally gone.” Tari said, swallowing the last piece of cake on his saucer and belching gently so the sound wouldn’t upset Lani or make him look revolting. “They say adulthood is a scam and all that, but age itself is the actual scam. Looking back, you realize that you had the raw and most pure version of fun when you weren’t even conscious enough to comprehend it.”
“I don’t know about that, you know you’re like an eighty year old man in the body of a seventeen year old but I guess that’s a little bit true. I don’t think I ever want to go back to that time though. I guess you’re done with the saucer?”
He handed over the ceramic ware that had only crumbs left and the now empty can and she disappeared into the room she had gone into before. When she reappeared he didn’t see her coming and she startled him.
“Your eyes have been going about the house in a very funny way, there is nothing valuable you can steal—except you know how to sell second hand make up kit. Tracy leaves hers around here somewhere.” When he had recovered from laughing, she pressed on. “Do say something about the house if you want to, though.”
He turned around to face her, from where she leaned over—elbows braced on the chair. “Nothing actually, it’s just that I have this funny urge to get up and put the little things that aren’t in place into order.”
“The things that aren’t in place?” She frowned. “Everything is pretty much in order here.”
“You think so? Because there is a CD on top of the TV, and a pillow at the back of the shelf. And let’s not forget the clothe lying not so far away from the stash of CD’s.”
Her lower jaw fell open, and her mouth enlarged like a black hole trying to suck in everything of close proximity into it. “You did not just notice those small things and make a big deal out of them, Tari. Christ, you’re such an old man. That doesn’t make the house untidy. It is nothing but plain evidence that people actually live in it. It can’t look brand new like a model apartment from a sales platform or something.”
“Alright, leave them there then.” He shrugged. His nonchalance ignited her action of setting the few details into order after a loud grunt that he couldn’t help but find amusing. When she was done, she sunk into the space next to him and sidled very close to his body. An uncomfortable silence punctuated by her rapid breathing followed before she turned her hypnotic gaze on him. “You should get to sleeping. I’m really tired also and I want to go inside to sleep. You don’t have any problem sleeping overnight do you? If you do I could wake you up early, so you could get out before any neighbor could see you. Not that I care, but I know you do.”
He shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. What about the girls? What time would they return?”
“I don’t know, they may or may not. It’s their choice, really.”
“So? It’s just the two of us here, for the night?”
“Uh, yeah.” She scoffed matter-of-factly. “I mean, you knew that earlier on right?”
“I was thinking the girls would be around, sort off.”
“Oh, well they aren’t. Be rest assured that I won’t rape you or something. I’m not interested in sex.”
His heart rate picked up. “That’s good to hear.”
Instead of her to inch away, she moved even closer to him so that their foreheads were only inches away from contact.
“But I’m interested in other things, though. Like kissing, I love that a lot. What about you?”
His speech halted in his throat, and before he could recalibrate them—her lips were on his, and her hand was cradling his face gently. It was a gentle kiss and although it was driving him to the edge of sanity, he ensured it didn’t veer out of the department of a gentle meeting of lips. After a series of moaning and gasping, she pulled away—a jubilant, victorious smile on her face.
“That was nice,” She pressed her lips to his gently, and pulled away once again. “Um, good night Tari. We’d talk in the morning.”
After providing a blanket and switching on the standing fan, she retired to her own room. As he closed his eyes, the memory of what had transpired several minutes ago replayed in his head and left a wide grin on his face in its wake. He had no problems falling asleep due to his euphoric state, but still there was a nagging thought that stemmed from her choice of words that stayed with him, even while navigating the terrain of dreamland.
“We’d talk in the morning.”
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One half of the story is completed, and from here on out it’s a totally new ball game. Fifteen chapters down, ten to go. I guess your curiosity of what went down in the past is doing numbers on you, but don’t you fear. We’ve gotten to the climax of the story, and I’d advise that you pay keen attention to the details here on out.
Share your thoughts in the comments section and tap that lonely star. See you next week. Do have a splendid weekend.