Disturbed by the turn of events, I started to cry without even knowing it. It took the ever gory and amebo watching eyes of Deborah to notice I had gone so soft and that tears had began dripping from my eyes so fast like a water fall.

“What is wrong with you victor?” she had asked after she had exhausted the moments of bewildered looks she was playing out on me. “Are you still going to sit here cuddling that innocent pillow all because you feel cheated?”

Not waiting to hear my reply, she had continued to make gnaking noises from the gum she was chewing as she arranged her gele, ensuring she turned 360 and 190 and even looked at her buttocks like it had some connections with the scarf she had been trying to tie for about an hour now. She never seemed like she was even ready to hear my sobering reply, for all she cared, she was done trying to condole with me.

“mehn you surprise me fah ooo, see if I were you, I would ensure I show my strength especially when everyone would want you to be weak and maybe go insane.”

I looked her in the face like she had some spits all over; I could swear I was going to give her the slap of her life if she didn’t stop talking, “which kind of a human being is this one sef?” even if I wasn’t happy and down casted I was still probably sure I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak to me in such incorrigible manner, and especially when it was a woman. I wasn’t happy at all, and that was one difficult stone to swallow. Having someone rub salt to my injury was one thing I really didn’t plan on condoling. I knew why I was in this state, I surely knew the antecedents that got me where I was, and I surely didn’t need another great audition from anyone, and especially when that someone was one of my headaches.

I wish she knew all I knew about her. I so wished she knew I had firsthand information on all the harm she had done to me. I decided to put up with Deborah because I had known her since service year, and at that time I had thought her to be the best of all my female friends. We weren’t in love though, but our closeness ensures we spent time together, and we most times found ourselves on bed and undressed without a good explanation as to how we got into such messy positions. Most times I would carefully and jokingly asked her about why we did what we did, and she would always laugh off the question and promise me that it was just for the fun of it, and that no strings were attached. A word I had come to ungracefully understand means damnation and a road that leads to downfall.

“We are youths Victor, and I see no harm in exploring our youthful exuberance” she had said on one of the many times I had popped up such questions.

I couldn’t come to bare the reason as to why I was always ready to jump into bed with Deborah whenever she felt the urge to. I had all the time to pull away, talk her out of it or better still move away from the house and avoid her. So in many instances, I have refused to hold her accountable for my mishaps, all I wished was that she stopped talking, and just let me feel big in my own world for the first time since our youth service days.

“After all you had all the chance to take her to bed and make her believe you are a man, but you decided to act monk…now you’re crying over spilt milk” she had continued spitting rubbish just in the midst of my catastrophic ailments.

“See, get up and dress up lets go for the wedding. Every disappointment they say is a blessing you know” I couldn’t believe she had something good of that nature in her head.

She hadn’t finished even talking when we heard a knock on the door. I looked at the time on the table clock that sat close to the 14 inch TV set I had just bought, it was exactly 6.00am. Who could be this strange visitor this morning? I turned to look at Deborah, but with a head shake of disapproval, she assured me she wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Who is that?” I asked making my voice so sober that I wasn’t sure whoever was at the door even heard me.

“It’s Asabe” came the voice from the other side.

“Asabe keh” I reiterated softly, making sure I actually heard well enough to believe that it was the same Asabe who was supposed to be getting married in few hours time that was at my door.

I turned to look at Deborah who I presumed should be as stunned as I was.

“What is she doing here?” Deborah asked rhetorically as she started gathering her make-ups quietly, making sure she left no trace of preparedness.

“Please open the door Victor, I need to talk to you” Asabe’s voice now seemed like she had been crying for a long time.

“Hope all is well Asabe, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your big day?” I asked as I rushed to the door, not sure I was ready to stomach her reply. As I moved to reach the door, Deborah grabbed my right arm, giving me a look that I suspected meant I shouldn’t. But I didn’t hesitate to force my hand free from her hold, and move more quickly to the door.

I unlocked it and swung it open like I was expecting a gift delivered to me from Konga. As the door paved way for our faces to meet, before me was the girl of my dreams, the lady I had good dreams about, the woman I vowed to everyone I was going to marry. Here she was, covered in blood and holding in her hands something that looked like a knife. What had happened? Who had she killed? And as I turned to look at Deborah for the many answers that seemed lost in my head, I was hit and I passed out.

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2 thoughts on “THAT MORNING (part 1)

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