The story, all names, characters and incidents portrayed in this piece are fictitious. No identification with actual person, places, building and products is intended or should be inferred.
This Story was edited by John Ovuson (i love you man...no homo)
Silence is all she hears; there are days the silence grew louder than her expectations. What a strange life she is witnessing for the first time. The Federal Capital Territory everyone is desperate to visit isn’t just expensive but extremely lonely. Susan sees her visit as a payment to boredom unlike the Eastern region of the country where she is familiar with the jubilation that never stops, the pungent smell from the gutters that swells lungs, the dark fat lady in her compound who fries fish every day permeating the atmosphere with seafood like a sea captain. Sometimes she assumes the lady to be the dark feminine persona of Captain Jack Sparrow – the cunning beard-dangling villain that paints himself as a protagonist. It has never been this quiet in Susan’s life expect this very era. Her ears plead for noise; not the noise of a movie or music, rather the masculine vibration perfect for the ear of her soul.
As she paints her nostalgic imagination on the high white ceiling board, she hears a car park outside the compound. She rushes to the window to see who it is. She sees Damilola putting his bags down on the marble floor in order to pay the taxi man his fare. Before Damilola finishes performing this action, he feels a warm soft hand grab him from behind while a boneless head sinks into his back. He pauses for a minute, turns and gives her a long kiss she had yearned for. The taxi man refuses to drive off; the movie before him is too real to be ignored for later review. It is unedited, unscripted with no director but one viewer (or several viewers who could be peeping from their windows and acting like they are not home).
Damilola unlocks his lips from hers and leads her inside their apartment while he carries his bag in his other hand. As they get inside, she pushes herself to him, kisses his chest and Damilola immediately decodes her horny signal.
“Wait a minute… baby!!!” he calls her attention.
Susan’s ears are blocked in lust; all she craves for is some ice on her hot blood right in the middle of the parlor. As Damilola tries calling again, she’s half naked, the sight gets Damilola engrossed. She possess a shape no man can ignore, Damilola stimulatingly looks at every curve and contours like an artist hypnotized by his sculpture. She walk back gently beckoning on him to come eat that fruit he is voracious to predate. He sheepishly walks like a child drooling over candy.
His phone rings, this ejects the mood like a reset button. Damilola peeps and sees it is his boss calling. He signals Susan that he has to pick the call.
“Hello” he answers.
While he answers the call, Susan walks to the couch half naked and uses a throw pillow to cover herself like she was posing for the same magazine that snapped Kim K nude. The call last for minutes, then minutes to hours in her mind…she is nearly sleepy when Damilola ends the call.
Susan’s face boils in anger. Damilola sees her and realizes he has offended her. He walks close to the couch where she lay down and bends to kiss her. She eludes his kiss.
“Look I’m sorry baby” he apologies.
She refuses his apology. This time, throwing a stone frown.
“I actually left what I was assigned to do because I have missed you so much…my boss is really pissed at my actions…I hum…” he stammers.
“I didn’t ask you to leave… did I?” she cuts in.
Surprised over her response, he looks at her “What’s the meaning of that?”
“If your work is so important to you, why then did you return in the first place?” she questions.
“Why are you sounding this way…I took a huge risk in my career and this is the best thing you can say to me?” he flares up.
He stands up and walks around the house trying to express how disappointed her statement is to him “…or is it because we didn’t have sex?”
This gets her attention; she sits up still using the throw pillow to cover herself as though he is a strange man who came knocking at the wrong time.
“Who is talking about sex?” she questions defensively.
“You wanted us to have sex earlier knowing fully well we made a commitment that we wouldn’t until we are married” Damilola reminds her.
Susan quietly ponders over her actions right from when he arrived.
“I shouldn’t have come to Abuja in the first place” she says hissing right at his face as she walks passes him.
Damilola swiftly drags her close to him like they were dancing tango.
“No… don’t say that” he says gently.
“You are in the right place at the right time and also in the right relationship” he assures her.
“We have come a long way, we never built our relationship on sex and we will not until we are married… I have a bright future for us which I want us to achieve” he pacifies Susan.
“My job compared to you is nothing babe, but I want you to understand that I’m not working my black ass off for a selfish reason; I want to offer you the best any man will ever provide for his queen…you are my queen Susan!” he adds.
Susan hearing these words bursts into a pool of tears and hides her head on his chest.
“I love you so much” she whispers.
“I love you more” he responds.
The next day Damilola gets set for departure in order to avert further complaints at work. As he sets to leave, Susan prepares his bag and put the breakfast she made for him beside his bag. They pray before he sets off.
“Baby, promise me you will be good” she entreats.
Deep within Susan, she feels Damilola might be having an affair outside. Hardly can anyone see a guy who would resist sex from his own girlfriend if he is not probably cheating. She feels he is up to something. Damilola on the other part is not so excited leaving Susan alone; he feels a vulnerable air settling into their relationship all because he is doing the right thing.
He hugs her deeply as though they will never see. She watches him enter the taxi and as they drive off, silent tears track down her cheeks. She gets into the house; confused on what to do, she tries preparing a meal to make herself happy. She brings out some parboiled items from the freezer but it will take so long before they get defrost.
“If only I had a microwave” she murmurs.
The bell rings; the vibration startles Susan. She is not expecting any visitor. Could someone be lost or could it be that Damilola changed his mind? She rushes to the door excited, holding tight the thoughts of her fiancé. She opens the door and sees a guy dressed in a red uniform with a logo ‘LG: Life is good’ at the left breast pocket.
“Yes, good morning can I help you?” she ask the confused looking young man who is trying to catch his words.
“Hmm… yes ma. I was ordered to bring this to you…I just need you to sign here” the delivery man reports.
“Sorry I wasn’t expecting anything; who sent you?” she enquiries.
“I wasn’t ordered to mention… there’s a letter inside” he responds.
“Okay open it up let me see” she orders.
Still at the door post, the delivery man opens the top part of the wrap, they couldn’t see the diagram on the carton to discern what the content might be; this gets Susan a whole more nervous, praying that she is not involved in a deceitful game.
Her eyes expand as she sees the content; she jumps in excitement, signs the paper, rushes inside and dials Damilola number
“Honey I saw the microwave you got for me. Thanks a lot love” she appreciates.
Damilola over the phone didn’t sound so excited, his filtered voice responds: “Microwave…? I didn’t buy any microwave”.
“Stop the joke joor, I know you know how to make me happy” she replies.
“Please let’s talk later, I’m quite busy…want to check in my flight” he answers and hangs up.
Susan ignores his rude sign-out due to her overcharged level of excitement. She reaches for the carton and decides to see the letter that was mentioned earlier by the delivery man; meanwhile she sets the microwave to perform the job she earlier wished for. She sees the letter was addressed from Akindele’s property.
As she opens the letter, another knock lands on the door alarming her even more. She gets to the door, opens it without peeping hoping it’s someone familiar. She sees Collins standing by the porch, in a black V-neck T-shirt on a cream combat short. Something is different about him; outside the fact that he wasn’t dressed formally as always, his hands are behind depicting he is hiding something.
To be continued...
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