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Nineteen
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2020-10-08 19:35:23The universe was passing a message to me and I heard it loud and clear; it hates me.
‘That is not your school uniform’. Kunle observed and Marcel tore his eyes from me, his smile diminishing.
‘Yes, these are Chris’. I crashed at his place’.‘What do you mean crashed at his place? You just vacated’. He didn’t sound annoyed, a tad bit confused though.‘We actually vacated yesterday but we both had to stay back and help Ms. Flora clear out and were tired afterwards. I wasn’t going to go house hunting at night after all that work so I slept at Chris’.
‘Why didn’t you just explain this to me before?’
Marcel opened his mouth to speak but mom was faster.‘Let the boy rest Kunle so he and Amanda can get to know each other better’. She said‘That won’t be necessary, Marcel and I know enough of each other already’. I spoke up and his repelling smirk made its appearance.
‘Speak for yourself, brown eyes’.‘Brown eyes?’ Mom looked suspiciously between us.‘It’s something they call me at school’. I hurriedly explained
‘You go to the same school?’ Kunle asked, spitting crushed bones into his hands.‘We do’. Marcel answered.‘This should be easy then. Amanda, show Marcel to his room’. Her eyes were once again adoringly staring at him.‘Food should be ready soon, it’s just basic rice and stew’.
Marcel eyed the meat his father was drooling on.‘I’m sure it will be okay’. He said and I began walking in the direction of the visitor’s room before he completely charmed my mom.I opened the door and stepped into the furnished to the doorknob room. Mom had gone all out, the room had been repainted to a forest green, there was a large poster of Usain Bolt on the wall to the left and the wall adjacent to it was covered in quotes, most of which didn’t make sense to me.
The bed was made and the open closet was half filled with clothes. How long had she been preparing for this?
‘I take it you haven’t been in this room’. He said from the door.‘Not since its recreation’. He chuckled‘So Efua is the mysterious daughter of a rich mom’.‘I think that nickname doesn’t work. For one my mom is not fat, materialistic or married to a rapist. Aaandd, I’m not mysterious’. He smiled
‘I really underestimate you sometimes’. He stepped in and dumped his bag on the floor beside the bed.‘Don’t find fault, find a remedy; anyone can complain but not everyone can make a change’. He read one of the quotes on the wall.
‘I see where you get your motivational streak from, she doesn’t seem to specialize in feminism like you’.‘We all cannot be feminists’.‘So, my dad and your mom eh? What does that make us?’
‘Definitely not friends’. His smirk expanded and he had this look like he was watching his little sister get married and recollecting their childhood memories.‘If you need anything, ask my mom’. I left and returned to my room to bath.
Mom’s excitement had not diminished when she came to call me for breakfast and only intensified as we sat round the table tearing through hefty meat.
‘Your father said you run track that’s why I had that poster put up but I can take it down if it bothers you’. She continued to engage him in pointless conversation.
‘No, it was very thoughtful of you, Usain Bolt is my… idol’. His dad gave him a look to let him know I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t being fooled.‘Your principal said your grades are great, that you stand a good chance of getting that NDDC scholarship’. Kunle said after gulping down his glass of water.
‘You know I have to get it’. Marcel replied, aggressively scooping rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk.‘Amanda, I totally forgot, where’s your grade sheet?’ Mom asked.
‘In my room, inside my school bag, nicely tugged in my Math notebook. I would’ve shown it to you but you..’ The stink as the edge of the steel spoon cut into my palm made me drop it and for a while the echo of the clanging noise it made filled the room until my phone rang. I quickly got up and went to my room, shutting the door behind me.‘Abike’. I began speaking into the phone. ‘Sorry for telling on you’.
‘No, it’s fine. I didn’t know it was this serious’. She sounded tired.‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’‘Mom rode me to the hospital yesterday as promised. Turns out I have appendicitis and it’s already very bad so it has to be taken out as soon as possible. I’ve been admitted, the operation is next tomorrow’.
‘Oh my God Bike, I’m on my way’.‘You should rest, you just got home yesterday’.
‘So did you and I didn’t come back from war so shut your mouth and get ready for an unbelievable news’.‘Why are you so cruel? Now I’ll just be anticipating, oya na do fast and come’.I laughed and hung up.I changed into knee length jean shorts and a white polo. Mom slipped into my room as I was pulling on my shoes.
‘Are you going somewhere?’‘To see Abike’.‘Amanda, I know this new arrangement is a little odd but can’t you try to work with it?’ I tightened the knot on my shoes and got up.‘I’m trying mom but I need to get to Abike right now, she got admitted’.
‘What? Did something happen?’‘She said it’s appendix’.‘Oh, poor child. Greet her for me, I’ll call her mom later’. I nodded and walked past her.‘Amanda’. She called and I turned to face her.‘Just trust me this once’. She pleadingly said and I nodded before walking into the living room where Marcel was surfing through TV channels. He cast a glance at me and returned his gaze to the screen.
‘Looking good, brown eyes’.I ignored him and proceeded on my journey.Abike was in the children’s ward, dressed in a free flowing gown and going through her phone.
‘Aren’t you too old for children’s ward?’She brought the phone down and smiled up at me.‘There’s hardly any traffic in Calabar what took you so long?’
‘Keke drivers are on strike’. I took the only seat beside her bed.‘Nawa o! Keke drivers too’. ‘Dem too are workers ni’. ‘E consign dem. Now, the gist please’. She sat up and repositioned the pillow behind her.‘You will not believe who is staying at my house now’.
Her cheery expression died.‘Mandy. Did your mom bring that rapist back?’‘What? No’.‘Then?’‘She got another boyfriend but it’s not just him’.She frowned slightly and lifted a brow.‘Don’t tell me he brought his umunna’.
‘One of them, his son’. Her eyes widened‘Why the suspense young lady? Give me full details. Is he hot? Do you think he likes you? Of course he does, it’s you’. She began unleashing the Henrietta in her.‘You didn’t even ask me if he was still crawling or in the university’.
‘Okay, sorry. Tell me about him’.‘It’s Marcel’.‘They said I’m not supposed to eat for at least six hours before the operation. I’m not even fasting yet but I’m already losing it because I thought I heard you say Marcel’s name’. She sighed like she was sure she was running out of her mind.
‘Abike, Marcel is the one at my house’.
‘Marcel. The mighty Marcel is your mother’s boyfriend’s son’. Her relationship breakdown made me cringe almost as much as the stupid nickname did.‘When did they start calling him that?’
‘Marcel is at your house!’‘It’s not that big of a deal’.‘Is it not? What if your parents get married?’‘I don’t think it’s that serious’.‘What if it is?’‘It’s not and enough with the what ifs’.‘Okay. How is his dad? Is he nice?’ she was back to looking worried.
‘I don’t know but at least he doesn’t walk around the house half naked’.She laughed lightly.‘Five points for papa Marcel’. She said and I joined her to laugh but shushed when an orderly speared us with her eyes.The ward was filled mostly with kids ranging from ages 5-8 years. Each had at least a parent or guardian with them, buckets were lined under beds and despite all the snacks in sight and failed attempts at making the place look less sickly, the choking sterile smell of cleaning and purifying agents didn’t let anyone forget the place wasn’t a playground and not everyone who left, left happy.
‘Sooo. What were you discussing with the nerdy one yesterday?’
If that was her attempt at cheering me up, she was getting a steel medal.‘We were just saying our goodbyes like everyone else’.‘It’s an 18-day break, such lengthy goodbyes. He even waited for you to leave first and let’s not forget he was supposed to catch a bus to Lagos’. She wiggled her brows in a way that made me wonder if she was being injected some sort of stimulant.
‘He’s spending the break with his aunty at Awka Ibom. Stop making him sound like a Romeo’.‘You do realize you sound like a Juliet right now’.
‘Are you..’My phone vibrated in my pocket and I got it out. It was a text from my mom.‘Is that our Romi?’I rolled my eyes.‘It’s my mother. She wants me to get bathroom slippers for our guest, apparently she forgot that when she was carving out his little abode’.
As I looked up at Abike, I knew that if she wasn’t scheduled for an operation she’d be following me to my house and giving Marcel a threat that’d replay in his head for weeks.‘Are you going to be okay?’
I nodded. Mom asked me to trust her and I promised to try. Besides, how bad could the mighty marcel be?
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