“Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.” – Oscar Wilde.
•••
“Remind me of how you roped me into coming for this, again?”
Lekan grumbled for probably the millionth time, after they got cleared at the gateway of the residential estate and given the green-light to proceed to their destination. It was Friday evening, three days since she had proposed the idea of the mini-retreat to Tiolu, and they were here—heading to a private property of Dayo Tijani, which according to Tiolu was a lavishly furnished, three bed-room bungalow, they had decided to purchase for future emergences sake, in case the urge to lay low and stay off public’s radar, materialized. The house wasn’t located in the middle of nowhere, as Lagos was a megacity—the commercial hub of the nation as a whole and so had most of its landmass, occupied, which therefore, made it improbable, for the state to have an abundance of residential space.
This estate in question was situated on the outskirts of Lagos, on faint bearings with its neighboring state—Ogun. And so it was indeed in a secluded, isolated place, albeit not thousands of miles away from the city, and off the map. When Lekan had asked, why they couldn’t converge at a location in the city, Anjola had iterated that it was pivotal that the location wasn’t prone to the manic, uproar of the city life, so they could immerse themselves in tranquility, which was a therapeutic benefit of the retreat. He hadn’t protested further after that, because he didn’t want to assume the role of the killjoy, but she knew he was still scheming ways to terminate the entire trip, up until this morning, when he woke up to his glaring failure and resorted to whining all through the car ride instead.
“You mean, I should remind myself of how much of an ass you’re being by reminding you constantly of the fact that you don’t want to be here.” Anjola snapped, and gave him a baleful look, which she knew he caught despite his gaze being fixated on the road.
It was evident in the milieu of the estate that it was relatively new and was still in the development phase. There were houses, luxurious ones in fact—from high-rise bungalows, to villas and semidetached duplexes—that lined the streets by their side, but they were sparsely distributed, as unoccupied, unadulterated land with shrubs and grasses, were distributed amongst said houses in irregular intervals.
To call the atmosphere, serene was a colossal understatement—the silence it had could almost be likened to one at a graveyard, and Anjola almost feared that rapture had come and most of the life around them had ascended into the skies, leaving them alone on earth. But then her phone on her right thigh, dinged with a new incoming text from Tiolu—implying that indeed, the saints hadn’t departed yet.
Tiolu wanted to know how close they were to the apartment, as she had arrived already the previous night with Dayo and some maids, to set things into order and transform the place into somewhere adequately conducive. She replied her friend, informing her that they were only a few meters away, before tucking her phone back into her flap bag.
“That was Tiolu, texting to ask if we’re almost there.” Anjola said, when she realized Lekan wasn’t going to reply to her earlier lash out. Probably because he didn’t want to stir up more conflict. “It’s not too late for you to get out of the car, and board a taxi that’d take you back to the city, if that’s what you want. I’d choose third wheeling of an epic scale, like spending the entire week on a private property with a newly married couple, over you being whiny all through the weekend and complaining that you’d rather be licking the shoes of your dad, than spending time with your girlfriend, twin sister and brother-in-law.”
“Fine, fine. No more whining from my end.” Lekan surrendered, with his hands in the air. “You know half of the reason why I’m whining is to keep up appearance, and not make Tiolu and Dayo wonder if you forced me to come by drugging me or something, and not because I actually agreed to go. If I go there behaving like a Marvel fanboy, promised that Stan Lee would be resurrected just to meet me for one final time, before returning to the grave…then they’d know something is wrong somewhere.”
“Yeah, upside your head.” Anjola scoffed, giving him a scathing look. “I don’t need you getting there and complaining about every single thing. Tiolu already doubts enough, that you wouldn’t go through this kind of stress for me, but you’ve proven her wrong by deciding to show up.
“Don’t prove yourself wrong, by acting like you don’t want to be present. If you want to complain so badly, and you can feel the pain tearing you apart till you’re numb, I have a suicide hotline on my phone. It’s not necessarily the same thing, but I guess whoever is on the other end of the line should be able to remind you of how life is precious, and advise you to stay put and that the pain you feel would be gone someday.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if this is a private retreat to have fun and relax, or it’s a practical examination to make Tiolu like me.” Lekan adjusted the brakes, reducing the speed of the car, because they had almost arrived at the private property. “If it’s that, might as well end it all now. I’ve failed that exam multiple times, and I gave up on writing it again since I became a young adult. But sure, let’s give it a final trial. Honestly though, I still don’t see the point of this. One trip isn’t going to miraculously make Tiolu comfortable with our relationship.”
“I know, I never said that. But it’s a good place to start from, so please…let’s start things on a good note?” She said with hope echoing in her voice, and Lekan heeded with a nod, which she repaid with a gentle kiss on his right cheek.
Lekan wasn’t having that, and so when they finally pulled up at the gates of the bungalow—he killed the engine, grabbed the crane of her neck and tilted her face towards his for a proper kiss. The moment they heard the clanking, grinding of metal from the other side of the gate, they pulled apart just as the gate parted, revealing the couple, either of them holding one half of the gate open—Tiolu on the left, Dayo on the right—for Lekan to drive in.
The road wasn’t tarred or interlocked and so the car’s movement wasn’t seamless or even, as it wobbled slightly when in motion. Lekan parked behind the only vehicle in the compound asides theirs, which was a grey 2019 Audi A6 Sedan, which apparently belonged to Dayo. Anjola knew Lekan didn’t exactly like anything in particular about the young author, but even he couldn’t rebuff the fact that the lad had impeccable taste in cars, and his ensuing mesmerized glare, confirmed that. The car was so glossy and sleek, that she knew it was brand new and its virgin beauty was yet to be marred by the gritty, coarse state of most roads in the nation. Anjola and Lekan then disembarked, to join their hosts.
Dayo was the first to come into sight, after she hopped down from the vehicle. He gave her a warm smile, before she held out her hands for a brief, friendly hug. The twins on the other hand, were already in a ‘glaring daggers’ contest, as if to discern whose stare could be more lethal. Tiolu ceased with her petty countenance, when her gaze landed on her friend and she strode over to pull her in for a hug—slugging Lekan in the shin, when she walked past him.
While Lekan made a grand fuss of panting, about the bullet kick lodged his way, Tiolu directed Anjola towards the front porch, with a hand snaked through her waist in an intimate grip, as if they were lovers. Anjola was almost afraid Dayo would be jealous of Tiolu’s affectionate comportment, but he was being his usual calm, reserved self—seemingly amused by Lekan’s dilemma.
“Now let me warn you and Lekan, about this house.” Her best friend was saying, as they ascended the front porch and proceeded to entering through the doorframe. Tiolu and her husband were of course dressed in simple outfits. A black crop top and blue bum shorts for Tiolu, and an olive textured crewneck pullover sweater and black faded jeans for Dayo. It was expected, since they had arrived the night before, and had gotten acclimatized to the environment being a temporal home.
“It is so homey and cozy, that all you’d want to do is lay on one of the couches, cuddle and talk all day but that’s not going to work, of course. We have a lot of work to do, that is—we have a lot of cooking to do. Except y’all want to turn this into a spiritual retreat, and decide to fast all through the weekend, and back it up with prayers then no problems.” Tiolu added.
“Lekan would especially need a spiritual retreat and an intense, prayer healing session to heal his pain ridden-leg. Am I not correct?” Anjola quipped, and looked over her shoulder to give Lekan a mocking smile, which he warded off with a snort. Dayo on the other hand, had his hands dipped into his pockets—his gaze roaming about. “And of course the salvation part, where it’s the moment of confessing sins and all that. It’d go a long way in helping you to become a better person, I believe.”
“Oh, please we’re not having a confession session with Lekan around. We’d never leave here, because then he’d have to finish confessing and we all know his sins are…countless.” Tiolu groaned, and they all shared a collective laugh—excluding Lekan, before she found herself in the back of an indeed extremely homey, snug living room like Tiolu had said earlier.
The chandeliers that illuminated the room glowed with placid, mild light such that it casted a fog over the atmosphere. The design of the interior was quite formulaic—brown crenellated walls, black knitted rugs over marble tiles. The brown plump sofas in the room littered with throw pillows, were arranged in a semicircle slope around the center table that was home to a pitcher of fruits. The drapes were also pulled over the window shutters, darkening the room further and simulating a bonfire-esque sheltered atmosphere. All that was left was for them, to sit around the table in a circle and share a light snack.
“Told ya, very comfy.” Tiolu said, as she halted behind the three-seater cushion to take it all in. The men however didn’t pause alongside them, and ventured into the room—Lekan sinking into the two-seater on the left, with a happy sigh on his lips as if he had returned from doing some inordinately physically exerting work for hours and Dayo leaning over the table, to take a red apple, which he chucked into the air a couple of times, before taking his first bite.
“You all better put on your protective armor to the warmness of this room, unless you want to doze off…hold on miss, where are you going to?” Her friend’s grip locked into her forearm, when she tried to move further in the room to sit.
“What does it look like? I’m moving towards the chair.” Anjola answered, and shook in her friend’s grasp, in a bid to wriggle out of it but it was steely firm. She gave her friend a querying look, to find out why she was being manhandled and almost retracted her earlier words, because at that moment Tiolu looked menacingly pretty, like banished royalty-turned-witch seeking for revenge. Her long hair wasn’t combed to fall seamlessly to her shoulders, and so it tumbled down to her shoulders in asymmetrical and uneven loops. The thick black curl that rested on the edge of her left eye, made her look particularly frightening.
“No, no, no.” Tiolu shook her head, tightening her grip even further and Anjola began to fear her bones were going to crack. “You can’t sit down on that chair. I know you A.J., you’re sort of a slob. Next thing I know, you’d be nodding off. I just said we have a lot of cooking to do, do you people think I’m joking? Are you interested in starving? We can’t order anything in, because this place is very remote. So please, let’s get to work.”
“Ugh, I just wanted to sit down for a bit.” Anjola groaned, and ran a careful, inspecting hand over her bicep after Tiolu released it, just to ensure it wasn’t bruised from her long nails.
“No, you want to rest for a bit because you’ve been sitting in the car, for however long it took you and Lekan to get here, so I don’t see the big deal about sitting.” Tiolu snarled, before rounding the chair before her and coming to stand by the center table. “Okay, so we have to divide and conquer. There is cooking and there is heavy lifting. Dayo and I went to the market this morning to get supplies, and it’s yet to be loaded into the kitchen because the stuff we got is for the entire weekend, so it’s a lot.
“Of course, Anjola and I are the better cooks here as the women, so it’s only natural for us to head to the kitchen and you guys to do the heavy lifting. I don’t think we should be relegated to domestic work, just because we’re women but Anjola and I loading stuff into the house would just waste time and a meal cooked by Dayo and Lekan, is something even a beggar would reject if he’s been starving for days.”
Dayo laughed at the slur thrown their way, while Lekan had something to say to defend himself. “Well, in our defense, any rational person wouldn’t accept cooked food from anyone even if they’re hungry, due to the evil being perpetrated everywhere. Before Baba eats it, and becomes flaccid for life, farting up and down. So I don’t think that would be the fault of the food or the chefs.”
“Yeah, yeah give yourself hope.” Anjola cut him off, before sidling down on the three-seater much to Tiolu’s annoyance. “I don’t think stuff should still be that segregated, we should mix things up to make it more fun. Two teams, a man and a woman on each. So that there would be a pro and an amateur on each side, and the amateur could learn stuff.”
“What’s in it for the pro?” Dayo asked, folding his arms—interest glimmering in his eyes.
“Well…they get to be condescending and arrogant about their knowledge in the field?” Her shoulders rose in uncertainty, and Lekan let out a cry of approval while Tiolu scowled at her. “What? Bragging rights? Same difference.”
“Anyway, that’s not a bad idea.” Tiolu agreed. “So how do we choose teams?”
Anjola spoke up, instantly. “I call dibs on Dayo.”
Dayo laughed again, while Tiolu tilted her neck in curiosity at her. “You can’t call dibs on a married man, missy. He’s already mine for the taking. And how come you aren’t choosing Lekan, or better still me?”
“Lekan? Work partner?” She clapped her hands in unbelief. “If I want someone to whine and cry, while working—I’d get an actual baby as partner. At least, they’d shut up when I stick a feeder of milk down their throat or when I tickle them or something.”
Tiolu burst into an uproarious laugh alongside Dayo, while Lekan gave her a feigned look of hurt, with his hands crossed over his chest. “I’m not hurt at all by those words, A.J.”
Anjola ignored him, and continued her clarification. “And you, Tiolu as work partner can’t work out because duh, we are mixing things up. Don’t you get the entire point? And even if we weren’t, seeing as you’ve been cranky all day, you don’t get to be called dibs on. So yeah, Dayo is my first choice.” Anjola added before striding over to Dayo, and placing a hand gently on his shoulder. She also didn’t miss the faint flicker of jealousy that zoomed through Tiolu’s eyes, which she was absolutely dazed by.
Was her friend that possessive of her husband that she’d feel uncomfortable that he was pairing up with someone that wasn’t her? She had hardly seen Tiolu exhibit such spiteful feelings before, so it didn’t make sense that it’d surface now with her best friend? She withdrew her hand from Dayo’s shoulder, and was about to call it quits on the entire thing before Tiolu spoke up.
“Fine, I’m stuck with the big baby then.” She groaned, with her hands on her waist. “Might as well get practice, since an actual baby is on its way anyway.”
Anjola’s heart leaped, and she did a double take. “An actual baby is on its way! You’re pregnant?”
Tiolu’s scowl reappeared. “Christ, no not this early. I want to spend quality time, married before kids come into the equation. I’m just saying, as in the future I’d have kids someday so let me prepare myself by testing my tolerance with this baby over here,” She explained, motioning to her brother.
“And this baby here isn’t deaf and can pretty much hear he is being ripped apart.” Lekan rose to his feet, easily towering over everyone in the room. “Look, can we get started already? I am hungry, and the only thing I brought along that can keep my stomach company until the food is ready, is beer and you don’t need me drunk while working, or ever. So if you think I’m whiny and annoying, you obviously haven’t met drunk me. If you don’t want to, let’s get to work. Chop Chop.”
“Golly, he’s threatening us. I’m so terrified.” Tiolu trembled, and hugged herself—feigning fear before rolling her eyes, and advancing towards her brother to shove him out of the center of the room, and towards the exit. Over her back, she called out. “There is preliminary work in the kitchen that you guys can get busy with, before Lekan and I are done loading stuff into the house. Don’t look so confused, sweet heart. Anjola understands.”
Anjola had automatically assumed she was the one being referred to with the term of endearment, before she realized it was Dayo. She was disappointed at the swell of her own jealousy within, and she shrugged it off before the twins had sauntered off the terrace, to head outside. Now with a clear head, she asked Dayo for directions to the kitchen and he led the way, a comfortable silence between them. The dinner she had with him on Tuesday, had cemented a level of cordiality that permitted silence that didn’t promote discord. They weren’t best of buddies, but they weren’t supposed to be best of buddies. All they needed was to be friends of the most shoddy, casual type.
The kitchen didn’t deviate from the house’s unifying theme of coziness, as it was a small, compact kitchen. The white tiles padded cabinets complimented the butcher block kitchen islands, with decked wood countertops and faux granite. Acrylic coated timber cupboards lined the ceilings also, and the floral wallpaper in the room—finished the homey look. On the kitchen island was several translucent bowls, which she could see held meat and was the preliminary work Tiolu was referring to.
After rinsing her hands in the sink, she proceeded to the island and drew out a chair. Dayo followed suit, and stood across her, by the island, before asking how he could be of help. “Do you know how to de-bone fish?” She asked, innocently.
When the billionaire author folded his hands, and leveled a querying look at her—she knew she had assumed wrongly. “Okay, let me first of all clarify something that you might not now.” Dayo said, placing his hands on the table. “I come from a middle class home, okay? My dad is a pastor and my mom is a civil servant. You really think that is the type of home with an army of maids helping out in the house, that you wouldn’t be able to do menial stuff like helping out in the kitchen?”
“Um, sorry?” She apologized through an embarrassed smile, and he shrugged.
“It’s okay, actually. It’s not your fault. Just because you’re rich, everyone assumes you were born that way. Especially when your wife looks like she’s never stepped into sun in her life, before. And to answer your question? Yes, I can very much de-bone fish and I can also cook to a very good extent. Tiolu was just being snide earlier on.”
“Really?” Anjola wasn’t exactly surprised, due to his earlier clarification. She had moved to the sink to fill the bowls of smoked fish and chicken with water, and had slid the one containing fish to him. Rolling up the sleeves of her chiffon blouse, she commenced her work. “When you say you can cook, the cooking in that context covers actual food and not, you know…basic stuff like boiling rice, beans, yam and cooking noodles?”
“Why are you discriminating over those meals, like they aren’t food? That’s foodism.” Dayo shook his head in feigned bitterness, and it drew laughter from her. Anjola knew she was wrong to assume he didn’t know his way round the kitchen. From his stance, to the precise way his fingers threaded through the fish—she knew he was no novice. “Of course, the food in that context covers actual food like Eba, Amala and Wheat. Semo is a bit tricky, because if you’re not careful it could be very lumpy.”
“Semo is still tricky for me, till this very day, despite almost a ten year experience of cooking it.” Anjola sympathized with him, as her hands massaged the chicken free of dirt. “Eba isn’t exactly a big deal but Wheat and Amala? Impressive, I have to give that to you. What about soup?”
“Egusi, Efo Riro and Ewedu, piece of cake. I’m a bit rusty around Gbegiri soup, because I was taught once and I didn’t bother practicing it or something.” Dayo replied, not lifting his gaze from his assignment. “But then again, I haven’t cooked in ages…so I’m pretty much rusty around every meal, asides noodles, rice and the likes like you said.”
“At least you can still cook, unlike many men who don’t have a care for it in the world, which isn’t exactly a bad thing, but then expect their wives to be incredible chefs and mount so much stress on them. I know Tiolu would have peace of mind sorta, when she’s tired, ill or restrained in anyway and she’s unable to cook because you’d step up and cook something meaningful. Unlike most men that would decide to order in, and someone like me who doesn’t like eating out for example, would find it distasteful.”
“Me too, I really don’t like eating out for some reason.” Dayo beamed up—giving her a genuine smile, that enabled her to deduce that he didn’t know a lot of people, who had that in common with him. “Not like I dislike it, but nothing beats home-made food. Junk food is best enjoyed outside for me, but an actual meal like let’s say Pounded Yam and Egusi soup…I’d have to act all refined and cultured, when I’m eating outside and not eat the way I want to eat. Not like I eat in some animalistic way or something, but there is just a way you eat when people are watching, in contrast to when you’re in the comfort of your house. Especially the meat. Nothing beats that.”
While Anjola chuckled, her phone in her trousers started to ring, and she had to hit pause on her work to answer it. After dabbing her hand clean with a dry napkin, she excused herself from the kitchen island and moved to the other end of the room. The caller ID read Ada, and a knowing smile smeared her face before she swiped. She already knew the intent of the call.
“Anjola, just be clapping for yourself o. Just clap very well. Don’t even bother asking what you did.” Adaure sounded gleefully pissed, and she couldn’t stop herself from breaking out in further laughter. It would seem that her grand deception hadn’t been met with ridicule and contempt, like she had feared. But still, that wasn’t enough confirmation that things were going according to plan.
“I just knew there was something fishy about this entire thing, right from the moment that you handed me the ticket. Sure, you love music and all but since when did you go out? To hippie concerts for that matter, but then I wanted to believe people change and when they do change, they take gradual steps and don’t just transform out of the blues, and I knew there was no reason to fear as you couldn’t be planning to kidnap me or something. Now I show up here expecting Anjola to be around, and voila, Ehize is here.”
All Anjola could do was laugh, as she had no verbal reply to give Adaure. Her plan had indeed worked, and thankfully not backfired. Definitely the duo was going to spend the evening together, and have a great time—that would extinguish the uneasiness that had been between them for the past week. If the night was excellent, and the music was top notch—perhaps, it would even motivate them to confess their feelings for one another, thus bringing the romantic clause into their relationship.
“Anjola, I never knew you had it in you.” A baritone jolted her out of her reverie, and she caught on to the fact that it was Ehize talking now. There wasn’t deafening background music playing, so she could infer that the concert was yet to begin. Pop music had to be blaring from the speakers in a moderate volume, since she could hear faint music. “While this your arrangement isn’t bad, I wouldn’t lie and say I wasn’t looking forward to hanging out with you one-on-one, properly for the first time. But I guess, we could do something else sometime then?”
“Aww, Ehize definitely.” She hadn’t in anyway anticipated such heartwarming statement from him, and so it took her by surprise. “I hope you guys do have fun, and Ehize…” She lowered her voice at this. “Am I on speaker, can she hear me?”
“Nope.”
“Cool, I just wanted to say you guys should please talk about what you feel for each other. Adaure could be weird in these places at times, so you need to man up. Be the matured or bold one, whatever. Just don’t resume work on Monday, still friends. Whatever it takes.”
“Whatever it takes,” His voice was booming of solidarity, and she couldn’t help but laugh once again. “Gotta go now, A.J. Thanks for fixing this up, though. We really did need the push.”
“You’re welcome,” She said, before hanging up and walking back to the island—with her exuberant smile still glued to her face. Dayo had a curious look, that he was trying to tone down so as not to appear nosy or meddlesome, and so he went through an indirect route.
“Is the person on the other end of the line, just seeing Endgame or what?” Dayo asked, his steady, firm hands still busy with de-boning the fish with such grace and mastery, as if his fingers were in a waltz with it. “Because you guys are exchanging ‘whatever it takes’, and I’m wondering. Movie’s been out for a couple of months now.”
Anjola chuckled, and shook her head. “So human being cannot say whatever it takes now? I didn’t know Marvel had placed a trademark on the sentence. No, she’s not just watching Endgame, and what’s it with the lowkey condescending tone as if you can’t believe there is someone that exists that hasn’t watched the movie yet? Me for example didn’t see it until the HD version came out last month or so, because I’m not so psyched to go see it in the cinema or something.”
Dayo then paused to look at her with a doctored grim look of disappointment, before he went on to shake his head vehemently.
“Anyhoo, those were my friends from work.” She continued, and resumed her work. “They are crazy about each other, but are being kids about it. So I set them up, by telling either person to meet me at a place to hang out. Now, they’re on their way to have a terrific night.”
“Really? That trick still works?” Dayo’s brows furrowed, but he smiled. “Good to hear. Your work friends from Sigma, right? Big place, you must be one hell of a person to land a job there.”
“Well, you could say that. Although, I couldn’t take all the credit. Most of it has to do with God, you know.” She replied, and it was then she came to grasp with the gravity of the moment. She was in the kitchen of a bungalow in a remote area, far from the high octane energy characterized with the city—rinsing meat with Dayo Tijani, acclaimed worldwide author, standing across her, as if he were some regular person. It all felt so surreal.
“Is anything wrong?” Dayo had caught on to her lingering gaze, and had gone on to assume something was amiss.
“Nothing actually, I just realized what a big fool I’ve been all day.” Anjola said, sliding her hand back into her pocket to retrieve her phone. “I’m never going to get another chance to cook with Dayo Tijani, and so I should truly appreciate the moment. You don’t mind me requesting for a picture do you?”
Dayo’s handsome features contorted into a magnanimous smile, that she was sure was a façade he always wore with fans, but there was a certain substance behind this current one, that indicated that it wasn’t just doctored out of freewill and that there was a chance, that it was truly genuine.
“Of course, why not?”
***
“Don’t just toss them into a random heap. The biggest ones go under, then the smaller ones on top.”
Tiolu’s taunting voice, haunted Lekan as he set about to arranging the firewood into a large heap in the center of the compound for the bonfire. Several hours had passed since he arrived with Anjola in the afternoon, and after they had an elaborate brunch of Wheat and Efo Riro vegetables soup—they had split into their respective teams, to prepare for the bonfire. Anjola and Dayo had returned back to the kitchen to prepare the barbecue snacks and drinks, and he and Tiolu had been tasked to setting things into place for the event.
He still didn’t know why they couldn’t just sit in the house and have dinner, but he hadn’t bothered protesting because he knew it would infuriate Anjola—and Tiolu, was going to come up with another analysis of how it was important that they make the most of their isolated location and not go the easy route, doing stuff they normally did back in the city. So he kept his complaints to himself, and forced himself to come to terms with the numerous constraints of the physically exerting work he had been doing all day, and the last thing he needed, was his all omniscient sister criticizing his actions at every move.
“I didn’t know your PhD in medicine, came along with a complimentary one in firewood organization.” He said over his shoulder, where Tiolu stood behind the heap of firewood. Approaching the center, he dropped the bundle in his arms—and let it fall to the floor, awakening the sand particles and sending them into a small diffusing frenzy into the air. He coughed and stepped back, dusting dirt off his hands before heading back to the heap to pick another bundle.
“You just don’t listen, do you?” Tiolu shook her head, her hand on her hips—remaining immobile, as if she expected him to move all the firewood or she planned on using telekinesis to move her portion. “It’s not about having superior knowledge in this or anything. It’s just logic and common sense. Why would you put the smaller fire-wood under when you know they’re going to burn out faster, and risk the fire dying out before it reaches the top where there is stronger firewood? This isn’t about me being condescending, and this also shouldn’t be about you being arrogant and not listening, when I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Maybe, I’d value your opinion more if you were doing a little heavy lifting.” He gave her a smug smile, as he leaned over to pick another bundle. As he straightened up however, Tiolu held out her left palm, where there was a huge gash in the center—dotted with blood. “Woah, how did that happen? Aren’t you used to operating on firewood in surgeries and all that? You of all people should know better than to be careless and injure yourself.”
“It isn’t funny Lekan, it’s actually very painful so no I’m not carrying any more firewood.” She rolled her eyes, and brushed strands of her hair, stuck in her face. “And do you know I’ve had the splinter, way since afternoon? When we were moving the stuff into the house, the knife mistakenly grazed my hand and cut it open. But it was a small cut, and I kept on working with it anyway because I couldn’t let you do everything, but now I’ve had enough. I’d be risking getting infected, if I carry firewood with this hand.”
“Fine,” He groaned, before whirling around and heading back to the point he had dumped the previous logs. “When you want to correct someone in the nearest future, how about you sound less like you’re enjoying the correction and errors in what they’re doing, and more like you don’t enjoy the correction or like finding errors?”
“You know you just said the same thing backwards,” Tiolu shook her head, pulling down the sleeve of her long sleeved t-shirt to cover her bruised hand, before folding her arms. The temperate wasn’t also friendly, as it was ridiculously low and was fanning them with its chilly breeze.
“Just try and be nice for once in your life, it won’t kill you.” Lekan grunted, before tossing the heap onto the floor and stepping back fast, before sand spewed into his nose. He then propped his hands on his waist, convinced to heed his sister’s advice. “So bigger firewood goes under, huh? I’m supposed to start fishing for them in this huge heap? That would drain my energy real quick, and I need it because I still plan on making out with Anjola before we go to bed tonight.”
“Say one more repulsive or objectifying thing about my best friend, and I swear I’d carry one of these logs and chuck it under your legs, in that very place you don’t have any line of defense in.” Tiolu threatened, with her index finger pointed at him.
He couldn’t see her face clearly, because the dim headlight reflecting from the doorpost didn’t do a great job illuminating outside, but he had no reason to doubt she was being serious.
“Now to the firewood, of course I don’t expect you to single out the big ones, dumbass. Just keep on picking them randomly, and separate them into two—the big ones in the center, and the smaller ones beside it…so that when you’re all done, you’d just dump the small ones on top of it and light the fire.”
Lekan couldn’t argue with her logic, and he detested the fact that she was smart and he couldn’t dispute that. Bending over, he picked another heap which was under the heavier density classification and he tossed it right into the center, and then separated a bundle that contained light weighted ones, into another space. He then strode back to transfer another bundle, but instead collapsed on his butt to the ground—bracing his hands on the sand on either sides, before throwing his head back and sighing.
“I’m fucking tired,” He said, swabbing at beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, before meeting the gaze of his sister. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this entire firewood thing all on purpose, just to punish me for dating Anjola or something, or is it a test? I’d never know.”
Tiolu advanced towards him, her hands still folded. “If only I could test your resilience in sexual stuff, like that.” Then she paused, and there was a grueling silence that he knew was going to be followed up with something of huge weight. “Lekan, just…please don’t hurt my friend. I can forgive you for almost anything, but if you do that then we’re done.”
He scoffed, sitting up straight and dusting his hands. “Sure, say ‘we’re done’ like we aren’t done already and we have some close, awesome relationship that’s going to suffer, if I end up hurting Anjola. Look around, look at us. There is nothing to be done with. Everything is done already, so if you want to blackmail me with something, you have to be original and come up with something legit, at least.”
Tiolu’s shoulders buckled in incredulous laughter, and he could see the look of unbelief in her gaze, now that she was closer. “Sure, whine and complain like you care if we have a relationship in the first place, or if it’s my fault that we don’t have one. Just don’t hurt my friend, that’s my own.”
“Yes, because Lekan is this emotionless robot that doesn’t feel anything and is hollow as fuck—”
“See oga, round up with your whining and get back to work. We have a bonfire in a couple of minutes.” She cut him off, and then stepped back—apparently ending the conversation. But he wasn’t done. He didn’t know what pushed him, whether it was the pain eating into his back or the frost, cold air seeping into his skin, as if to mutate him—but he wasn’t done.
“Sure, step back from the fire, don’t let anyone come around and see you having a conversation with your brother. It’s not in any way good for your flawless reputation, that you need to maintain. It’d make your approval ratings drop real quick.”
Then she stepped back into light. “What the fuck are you even talking about, Lekan? How did this conversation head in that direction? I don’t even get what you’re saying—”
“Just stop it, okay. Stop with the condescension and the judging at every turn. I get enough of it from dad, I don’t need it from you also—”
“How am I even being condescending? All I said was that you shouldn’t hurt my friend! And based on your track record of hurting people, it’s a very viable thing to say. It’s not like I said it just to make you feel like a lower person—”
“First of all, I don’t hurt people. All the women, I’ve gotten entangled with always know I’m never down for a relationship, so they know what they’re getting into. If they get feelings at the end of the day, you can hardly blame me for that. If you still blame me for that, then every attractive person in this world should also be blamed for people getting attracted to them. And you going on to say that there is a chance that I’d hurt her, is basic condescension and judging, because you don’t want to see past the fact that I can actually make efforts not to hurt her. That I could try to be a decent person for once, right?”
“Oh, now you expect me to trust you when I don’t even know you? Fine, I might have been wrong but no, just don’t expect me to trust you Lekan, because asides from knowing your favorite meals and your love for sex, I know virtually nothing about you anymore!” She matched the intensity of his voice.
“Yes, you don’t know anything about me, so how about you give me a fucking break! If you’re going to distant yourself, then you should know your opinion isn’t cherished and you might as well shove it up your ass.”
Tiolu’s lower jaw dropped. “Unbelievable. I distanced myself? Me? Lekan? I distanced myself? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Was I the one who stopped coming out of my room to hang out with my twin sister, after I got all those cool video games and suddenly didn’t see the need for human company, anymore?
“Was I the one who snubbed my twin sister every time I saw her in school, and acted like we were strangers anytime our paths crossed? Was I the one who became too matured, and stopped doing our rituals like playing dress up of our favorite Disney characters and acting like we were them? Was I the one who stopped using my surname in school as my last name, and used my middle name instead so people wouldn’t know I was the sibling of Tiolu Keye? Forgive me for not pining over you and moving on with my life, when you stopped acting like I mattered. I should have taken mattress and died in front of your room’s doorframe.”
“That’s it, you just never get it do you? You never get it that there could be a reason behind Lekan doing something, and that you shouldn’t just assume the worst of him—”
“You practically ignored my existence when we became teenagers, Lekan. What the hell was I supposed to think? You were trying to protect me, because some hit-man wanted you dead and so you put space between us, because you didn’t want me to get hurt? Is that it?”
He shook his head. “Everything isn’t easy for some of us, Tiolu. Some of us don’t come out tops in their class Arm, and entire class log and cart away all the awards. Some of us don’t make our parents proud, when they are called to be honored for their outstanding performance in school. Some of us get compared with our fraternal twin at every turn, and get constant criticism that we aren’t as good, and are pretty much not good at anything.
“Sometimes, our parents didn’t even hide the fact that they might as well dump me in an incinerator, and it wouldn’t make a fucking difference because Tiolu is making all the moves, and Lekan is just wasting space. What would you know about being treated like shit? You’ve always been in the spotlight, Tiolu so please don’t judge.”
That shut her up.
For the first time ever, he was able to shut Tiolu up and she was rendered mute, by his words unable to counter and concoct a point that would justify her actions. She almost staggered back in the realization, that she wasn’t in the clear—that she was wrong, and somehow this didn’t bring him the contentment that he thought it’d bring. For some reason, he didn’t like the fact that she was being torn apart by guilt.
Before anyone of them could talk, the loud trudging of feet killed the silence preceded by the arrival of Dayo and Anjola of course—both of them wearing wary, curious looks. Dayo went to stand by his wife, while Anjola halted at his side also.
“What’s wrong? Why are you guys quarrelling?” Anjola asked, looking from him to Tiolu.
“Yeah, we had your voices from the kitchen. Is everything, okay?” Dayo’s eyes were only for his wife, and his gaze rummaged her entirety as if Lekan could have hurt her physically.
Snorting, Lekan stepped forward to pick up a bundle of firewood before heading back to the heap in the center. “Nothing is wrong, guys. We just had a little disagreement, if you guys are done with your work in the kitchen—please give us an helping hand. Tiolu bruised her hand, and so she can’t do much of heavy lifting now.”
“Oh, we were about wrapping up—” Anjola started, but Tiolu cut her short.
“No, you and Dayo should head back into the kitchen. We don’t need you here.”
The trio turned to her with a frown.
“Tiolu, we asked what’s wrong?” Dayo asked again, perplexed.
“Nothing is wrong. I’m having a conversation with my brother, and I think it’s obvious that I want us to be excused. So please, head back into the kitchen, thank you.”
Anjola wanted to say more, but when Dayo left the group and began to amble back into the house, she resigned to keeping mute and following him. Tiolu didn’t speak until they had vanished back into the house.
Then she began. “Lekan, I can agree that stuff was hard for you back then because I did overshadow you a lot. But, why didn’t you speak out? Why didn’t you say what was bothering you and we could have handled it together? You just shut me out, and didn’t say anything. I automatically assumed you had become too cool, to be friends with your sister—”
“What sort of nonsense is that? Who becomes too cool to be close friends with their twin sister, Tiolu? You’re not a kid, we’re age-mates and you’re technically older, because you’re indeed a couple of minutes older than I am. So, how can I become so cool that I wouldn’t want to be friends with you?
“And now you’re saying I didn’t open up at all, but God knows I tried. Was I supposed to come knocking at your door, to cry and weep at your feet? I gave you small hints here and there. I didn’t just shut you off, it was gradual and deliberately gradual because I wanted you to catch on and ask me what’s up. But you didn’t, and it was like you didn’t make any effort—”
“I didn’t make any effort because I thought you didn’t want to be my friend—”
“No, that’s just you being lazy about it. And I don’t blame you really. You were really busy. Always occupied with this social function, and preparing for this debate, and studying for that quiz? What possible time could you have had for your brother who felt sorry for himself for being inferior? So it is what it is, Tiolu.”
“No, it is not what it is, Lekan.” Her voice cracked, and it was then he peered closer at her—to catch whiff of a tear trickling down her right cheek. That broke something in him. “I—I never realized that all these while, it was my fault. It was just easy to blame you, and assume you didn’t care. I’m sorry, Lekan. It was tough for you, and I made little to no effort to try and see things from your perspective. Although, you are not in the clear though as you should have tried harder to communicate. Why would you think that I’d be too busy? I wasn’t too busy to hang out with my friends and to do other social stuff. So there is no way I could have been too busy, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He said. “It’s no use anyway. All that is in the past. You shouldn’t be apologizing for something that old. I think statute of limitations also apply here, so it’s a little bit too late to be raking up such stuff—”
“No, Lekan don’t tell me that. Don’t say it’s too late, nothing is ever too late.” She sniffled, and batted at another tear that escaped her left lid.
But before he could reply, Dayo came barreling out of the house in full speed—this time, panic painted all over his face and composure. His brows cinched together, when he noticed his wife was crying but it seemed his mission for breaking Tiolu’s wish, was greater than seeking out the reason why she was crying.
“Tiolu, Anjola just received a call from her aunt and right after the call, she broke down in the kitchen and started sobbing seriously. What do you think could be wrong?”
Lekan and Tiolu shared a look of speculation, before it dawned on them.
“Her dad,” Tiolu swallowed, before tearing into a mad dash for the entrance.
“Shit.” He cursed, running a hand through his hair.
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Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Well, there is only way to know what I'm thinking. Read on, but not before tapping that star and sharing what you're thinking.
Remember what I said about this book, being about relationships? This chapter addressed that of Tiolu and Lekan, and well shed light on the roots of their friction. This arc isn't over. So read on, my loyal subjects!