PRACTICE - SEVEN

On a Sunday evening in mid-September, I was at a joint having a beer and watching the English Premier League when Laide called. It wasn’t very unusual, but Blackberry messaging was the chief means through which we communicated. I had to get away from the noise to hear her clearly. She’d been talking, but when I could finally hear her clearly, she’d grown impatient.

                “Where are you?”

                “I ah… I’m at a joint… watching…”

                “You’re not boozing, are you?”

                “Just… just… just a bot…”

                “Know what… Foggerrit!”

                “Hello? Hellooo?”

I knew that mood. Calling back would be futile. I had to let her burn out, so I went back to my seat. But she had to learn… that hurtful words can’t be taken back; time once lost can never be regained… when you drive a nail into the trunk of a tree, you can decide to pull it out, but the tree will never be the same. Peace is peace, but once there’s been a war, it’s called calm. Peace is natural, but calm is enforced.

                I was hoping to check up on her the next morning but, just before I slept off that night, a ping dispersed the particles of sleep that were building up gradually around my eyes, attacking my consciousness. It was 11:31pm.

                “You couldn’t even call back.” .

                “Thought I’d let you be…”

Nothing for a few minutes.

                “Have you finished boozing?”

                “Yes.”

                “How many?”

                “One.”

                “You sure?”

                “Yep!”

Nothing.

                “How do I get to Abuja?”

                “Wha?!”

                “Tell me.”

                “Wow!

“You’re coming? When?”

                “When should I come?

“But know your week starts counting from tomorrow.”

                “Wow!”

                “Could you stop wowing!”

                “Sorry bout that.

“Okay… Take God Is Good Motors, along Uniben road. Their park here is at Utako. I’ll pick you from there.”

I said wow out loud… didn’t type it, or all these would end prematurely. She could be that impulsive.

                “Ok.”

                “And, sweetheart, you need to set out early so you can get here before dark, okay?”

                “Ok. That means I have to sleep now.”

                “You have to, baby.”

                “Goodnight.”

                “Good night.”

I sent her the kiss and hug smiley and she sent back.

I became all bright-eyed after the chat. I started to create an excuse for the office… a sudden request for leave. I decided I’d draft a leave application letter in the morning. Boss was out of town; I’d e-mail it. By the time he’d be reading it I’d already be using the leave. If he saw it a day late, I’d already be on my way to my Grandpa… bringing my prize.

I went to work in the morning. Benin was far. If I stayed home waiting for her, anxiety would kill me. When I got to the office one of the new consultants who were conducting an appraisal of us found my lateness intolerable. That was his business. Our boss, yet again, was taking us for granted… hiring new guys to whip us into line. He’d hired and fired several… nothing had really worked; still he hadn’t learned… to get our opinion or something. These new guys would fail most woefully than all the others before them… We were fed up; only the lack of alternatives kept us showing up. Everyone probably had their plan: The girls were going to get married; the young men were making investments… things were pretty tough, though. As for me, my maiden book – which fetched me the scholarship – had been doing well in the market… So we weren’t exactly going to die if we got fired.

                It was a boring day. My work was unpredictable. I’d spent the better part of the day relatively idle, staying in touch with Laide when network allowed. But at about 4pm I found myself immersed in the process of creating a presentation. An external meeting had been fixed for Tuesday. The least I could do was prepare the presentation, since it was very likely I wasn’t going to be in the meeting to deliver it. This was my role.

                Laide called from Utako. I begged Onyeka, the driver, to help me pick her up. I gave him some money; he was to take her to the restaurant in the basement of the office building so she could eat. No foodstuffs, no cooking at my place…

                It was way past 7pm when I poked my head in the door of Chicken Capitol – the Basement restaurant. Laide looked worn out. She hadn’t seen me… partial lighting… so I took some time to admire her from a distance.

She was the best thing my eyes had ever seen. She was sitting so calmly and patiently, looking so ripe and exhausted. This was her, from an all new perspective. I fell in love with her afresh. What I felt then was stronger than whatever I felt before, or thought I could ever feel. The moment of clarity seemed like eternity. I was musing…

Here she was, the girl of my dreams; she had traversed an arduous patch of geography in search of me. And it filled my heart with delight knowing that of the millions of people between Benin and Abuja, this… this… last work of God was traveling in search of me. She just sat there… like an endangered species. I wondered how many girls of her mix of beauty, intelligence and tenderness existed. Just like Will Smith would say, she was a sight for sore eyes. The curves of her breasts effortlessly flawed Da Vinci’s artistic ingenuity. This was the masterpiece of a higher artist – God himself!

Her hair – simple braids…packed backwards in a simple style... Braids had never looked cuter on anyone. She had no make-ups on. She made my mouth water. The appropriate treat to give such a lady at such a moment was to take her to the coziest spot on earth and fulfil her every desire. I never felt so poor! I previewed this spectacle against the poor light for a while longer, and then went straight to embrace my favorite dream.

      She was happy to see me as I was to see her. She was a lovely flower in full bloom. Most importantly, the remarkable and smashing outer beauty only concealed an even more enchanting interior. She had a beautiful soul. I had gained insight into that too. She was perfect. God, I thought, was playing pranks on me by swinging such beauty my way. It was such a blessing that no man on earth had done enough to deserve.

All the ‘silence therapy’ and indifference from my parents… I was going to break through it. Mom was the weak link in the chain. She’d be unhinged by the sheer beauty of the woman I was about to show her. She mightn’t say it, I knew, but she’d be proud of me. My eldest brother had a really fine son… Mom was usually concerned about the precedents that result in pretty progenies… as far as was humanly influenceable, that was. I remember some years ago when we attended Mass at a Parish other than ours… she was thrilled when two pretty sisters besieged me to say hello. She was impressed, that in such high society, I knew such fine people who would rush to hug me. Now this… Laide was going to be my wife… Mom was going to be ecstatic. Whatever mountains… whatever valleys… occasioned by ethnicity, religion, and what have you… Laide’s aesthetic qualities were one giant leap that takes us to the summit. Whatever push was left, Grandpa’s tutelage might help.

                In the car as we drove home, I called her Dad… Told him she arrived safely… thanked him profusely… and assured him she’d be back to him in a week – no more.

After our conversation his sign-off was pleasurable:

                “I respect you, Duke; respect me… Keep your words!”

                “Certainly sir!”

                When we got to my one room apartment I asked her if she’d like tea. She said she was fine. So I just ran her warm water to bathe. When she was done we stayed up and talked a little. It wasn’t lively… she was falling asleep. So I invited her to her knees and we said our night prayer… Thanked the Lord for everything; prayed for his favor upon our plans and wishes and dreams; prayed for the week to go well; prayed for our families… and prayed for a restful night.

I tucked her into bed and kissed her temple. Then I killed the light and descended down to the rug and just lay there. I was ready to sleep, but my mind simply refused to hibernate.