Chapter Five

This night had narcotic effect on SonOfMan; not because MyAngel was lying beside him—and not actually because he had taken any drug, or it was a case of narcosis. It was a case very equal but still obverse to narcolepsy. A condition in which he fell into slumber despite the fact that his worrying suspicion extremely raised its ugly head and aimed at his nerves…

SonOfMan wasn’t feeling sceptic anymore. Just blissful prospects. Good and damned prospective.

The lady behind the counter was comely and fair complexioned. She smiled from ear to ear over his face; her mouth pouting lovely, making her face take up with much sensation—and the huge lures of this attraction were so bewitching. He put them a serious check and went to sit down and wait, as she left to bring his stuff for him. Then he stood up again when she returned with a large heap of cards. At least, this heap would go round to every denizen of this country, who would care to attend his wedding ceremony. But who wouldn’t care—even his rivals?

Without a word but these charming smiles, she pushed the cards she had wrapped into a pack across the counter. Then she picked one she missed, and was reading the inviting information.

She was very slow to look up and congratulate him, and it was necessary that he waited until she understood something there—because if she was thinking he had lost his heart to recognize those pleasing welcome smiles, he wanted her to know that the tempting come-on was unnecessary and a wasteful effort. And he said at last;-

“I’m that WyiWorri Jamike, the soon April gentleman.” He grinned unnecessarily. “And the lady, Dumebi, is my fiancée.”

SonOfMan drove down the streets, sharing out some cards to some couple of easily reachable friends.

Then he drove to tell his soon-to-be in-law, Frank Okorie, Dumebi’s eldest brother, who would stand for late father, that marriage agreement had been made between him and their sister—and possibly let them have their own copies. But SonOfMan’s father supposed to make this journey with him, to show the grounded support of his family? He pulled at the compound, but he didn’t disembark immediately. He thought a little and opened his dashboard. Inside was an envelope that was addressed to him.

It read;-

Dear Son,

This letter is written to you that in the event of my withdrawal it is entirely because I am inconvenienced, for I am solidly behind your manly decision. Somewhere around my twenty-four, my mannish race to matrimony had completed, and you know, around your age, I have got the first three of you. You will find the positive inspiration of my bold precocious step as an evidence of my total approval.

Dad

That was all there to it, but it was enough. Enough to convince his in-laws of his paternal blessing to himself and to their daughter. He stuck the expensive paper in his chest pocket and got down.

He knocked at the door; “WyiWorri, knocking.”

“WyiWorri?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wait, somebody is coming.”

But that voice looked like MyAngel’s; when did she return? Better still, how did she return without letting him know? And they talked yesterday—and this morning too? He waited.

A couple of minutes, then some shuffle of feet, and Frank Okorie opened the door.

“Frank, I brought news for you.”

“Maybe I have news for you, too,” Frank Okorie sounded raw. “Now, what’s your news for?”

““For you consumption… your people’s consumption, I must say.”

“Your friend came home to make sure that all the arrangement for her marriage is completely put in place. It’s next week, and tonight is her hen-party night.”

“Next week? No! It’s next month.” SonOfMan grinned to that mistake. “You see, that’s why I came to correct this. She wouldn’t know I’ve picked a date this coming month, and made these cards.” He flipped out a good number of cards.

Frank Okorie watched the cards, he couldn’t make out things. “For who?”

“For me and your sister, of course.” SonOfMan was perplexed. “She may have not told you, but we have to be husband and wife. Of course, she returned for it?”

“No, not you; she came for a suitor, who has been taking these ceremonial steps for her hand in marriage.”

The air couldn’t find its way into SonOfMan’s lungs. Frank Okorie’s words were still there in his ears, and finally he got the horrible sense out of them. “She came home… for a proper arrangement of her trousseaux… to live with another brother, who has come for her hand in marriage?”

“Yeah; at least, that’s the way I figure it,” Frank Okorie said. “Mother thinks she’s really happy and optimistic about her coming wedlock.”

“She supposed to be pregnant…” SonOfMan started to say.

Frank Okorie cut him short; “Yeah, Mother smelled that too. There’s this delicate way she holds herself, and mother asked and she admitted. Anyway, this suitor said it was him.”

“Damn it, what about my own baby?”

Frank Okorie was obliging to explain. “My sister, Dumebi, is your sister almost. If you were having romantic relationship we don’t know. We only suspected and she didn’t admit it to us. This baby she’s carrying is wholly for another man. It’s only one pregnant for one man at a time… women know who truly father their babies. This suitor has said it is his, with boldness and enthusiasm… period.”

SonOfMan’s breath whistled out through his teeth. “When did this man come into the marriage thing?”

“Evidently the time he came with full knowledge of her missing period,” Frank Okorie said.

“The dowry?”

“Not paid yet; they’re coming and going for the rigorous rites. He wants to finalize some other little little traditions first, and then the full bride price would be negotiated and paid. What do you think she didn’t tell you, man, your mind is up to?” Frank Okorie said.

“I wish I know,” he said. “I wish I know.”

“There was this pathetic way she denied her affairs with you, I particularly observed… as if she’d have loved to involve you,” Frank Okorie said.

SonOfMan fished out the encouraging note. “Yeah, now I’m beginning to get it,” he said, handing out the envelope to Frank Okorie. “My dad pleads his support here, and we’ll be surely sooner ready to pay the bride price. This is the only way to fully own and monopolize a woman, and as you said he’s yet to accomplish that.”

“The pregnancy, remember, brother?” Frank Okorie said.

“Damned… that’s my pregnancy!”

“Maybe you’d like to tell me about it by her acceptance… but, brother, I tell you, that’s a hell of double-booking!”

“We’ll walk back to tell you. I’ll have some time out with her.” He started moving out.

“Good luck, Mister Jamike,” Frank Okorie said to that.

SonOfMan walked into the short veranda and knocked at MyAngel’s door. Maybe his soon-to-be in-law, Frank Okorie, was wondering what his sister’s style of transfer of child ownership would look like.

MyAngel’s voice sounded inside; “Who’s that… I’m busy.”

Busy alone inside, he tried a grin. Unpleasantly. “I know you know it’s me.”

“Whatever, I think it’s better you go away.”

“It’s just to have a word with you.”

“No, thanks. I’m pretty busy.”

“I’m leaving, beware.”

“You have no choice.”

“So”

“So that’s that.”

He shrugged sadly and dragged his feet back to Frank Okorie. He didn’t talk immediately, but watched him dolefully.

Frank Okorie grinned and it was impish. “You didn’t walk back to tell me,” he said. “I hope to wait a long time.”

“You’ll help me get her out; do you mind, Frank? I really have to talk sense into this will-o-the-wisp sister of yours a second.”

“Will-o-the-wisp?” Frank Okorie reminded him.

SonOfMan nodded. “Pride.… besides, she got frozen out. I’d have trusted her a bit reasonably. Her love… her loveliness… all… would’ve been my sole and monopolistic possession. I like smart ladies.”

“Her kind of smart?” Frank Okorie said.

“Especially; will you help?”

“Maybe I was thinking this earlier, Mister Jamike. I wanted to ask you if anything is felt of you, man, being all along in fools-paradise.”

SonOfMan’s face faded. “I shouldn’t answer you that, you know.”

“But something is needed to answer here in this credulity.”

“What? Ask me another thing you want and help me.”

“Love actually sting; doesn’t it? You know, people who play with it call it game, and some other thought these people are irresponsible and call it destiny,” Frank Okorie said. “You know, these second people really thought they understand love… but perhaps they don’t, at least they’ve realized it; haven’t they?”

The imp came in SonOfMan’s eyes, and he truculently stood again. “They’ve not realized otherwise, I tell you. Love’s still a destiny, and I’ve got this love and she’s this love, believe me.”

“Believe you other than the obvious… the stark reality… Mister Jamike?” Frank Okorie stood as well. “You know something? Wise people rather call this love dream, because it’s like wild-goose chase, nobody truly has it.”

“I said I have it, man, that pregnancy is mine! She’s my destiny, I know!”

“Perhaps you still have time left for you to walk out and back again, and come up with proof, and I watch you do it now or anytime—” Frank Okorie tapped his shoulder; “Man, someday.” He grinned snidely. “Good luck.”

SonOfMan stroked out his hand and swept out of the room—if Frank Okorie doesn’t know, even if his sister, the will-o-the-wisps, is truly having another man’s pregnancy in lieu of his, it wasn’t anything case of wild-goose chase or even fools-paradise—but Alice-in-wonder-land.

“Do that!” Frank Okorie called behind him. “Then I’ll let you teach me love.”

Now a maniacal simper followed.

The horrible maelstrom woke SonOfMan from the sleep; he jerked his body upright in his bed, feeling the apprehension and vagaries, and his psychopathology behind the creepy vision. MyAngel had actually double-dated, but he was relieved that it was a dream and not a proven earthbound fact yet. It was so psychic that it was almost quixotic. In his slumbers he had been many adversarial things—done many conjugal things—and owned many up-market things, though this time around he was of predictive reality almost happening. His eyes glued to the peacefully sleeping MyAngel, then he concluded it was only hallucination. Aye, a strange hallucination. So the next moment this ‘strange’ about it made him shake the sedate lying lady.

“Dumebi! Dumebi!” he called out, big smothering jealousy choking his breath.

She moaned and turned over onto her side still asleep, her caring hand reaching out to him.

“Come on, wake up, Dumebi; I have this gloomy forecast you really have to start answering question about!” He said, beating off her hand, not really minding that brush off that prosaic way. “Wake up… come on!”

“Hu…hu, tomorrow morning,” the sleepyhead whispered blearily. “Sweetheart…at dawn, please.” That hand was now reaching for him again. “Come, let me hold you.”

The entire coppers’ lodge was empty, so MyAngel had visited this weekend. While every other clannish youth of this compound had used the Easter break holiday to travel to their various places, SonOfMan had stayed and invited her, because the sedate environment was dislodged of prying eyes in favour of the scandalous issue at hand. Anyway, it turned out to be on the connubial bliss. There were a couple of things that really made sense around her controversial love now. They looked good and attractive, and he gave them positive thought. One was this passionate way she made decision to keep his baby. Not many chic looking beautiful ladies would want a nebulous poor fellow put them into unplanned motherhood.

There was another picture of her on the uncompromising track of matrimonial duty. A bigger wondrous commitment on this venture. The foetus since conception was a trouble, but the ambition to have his baby superseded—growing above it. Actually, it was malformed in the womb because of hormonal shortage, but she wouldn’t for her immeasurable love get rid of it. And she had therefore resorted to manage it with medical prescriptions and advice. Now she had visited to let him feel her troubles and then receive his Elysian sooths and love.

And that was when this nightmarish vicissitude—the bane of her conjugal inclination—started. Just today, the second day into her visit. She was coming out from the toilet on the left side of the door he seated watching about things, where she went to easy herself, looking sepulchral.

He was instantly petrified and sprang to his feet. “What’s the demon, Dumebi?” He pushed the panic button.

“Another problem,” she bemoaned.

He moved close to her. “It’s a bastard of a problem!”

He didn’t mean to make it sound like it did. She looked hurt or maybe disappointed, but nevertheless nodded her head;

“I just started having bleeding.” She watched his panicky movement to inspect on his own, and tried to assuage that trepidation. “Oh, no need for that! You know, Sweetheart, we’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t sense otherwise and didn’t mind to give any thought. Though it was true she came over for him to share real, and feel deep, her troubles—and this was the damnedest among, and she was too confident and resilient to do it off her own bait. He scrutinized the toilet, and then saw her standing beside him. He grinned and watched her relax; MyAngel was an assured okay chic. He pointed to the dent-less toilet. “You cleaned it so quick, and didn’t call upon me?”

“Remarkable… huh?” She tried and did a trick with her mouth, and buoyant smiles smothered it. “I showed that bravery because I didn’t want to shock you. It was a real gory sight.”

“But you’d done beyond that with that kind of face you put outside there!”

This time she was hurt. Clearly. Not just disappointed. “You!” she said; it was soft, but it cracked like a plaint; some painful plaintive misery that turned her eyes dark with distrust, and yet she didn’t storm out. She stood there waiting for him to exercise the remaining in-grown objectionable instinct.

It didn’t bother. “That’s a lot of bravery… I mean, a silly lot of bravery, for a lady of clingy love!” He saw her watch him with some touching level of sadness she gave in to. There were sudden tears in her eyes that quickly left him wondering how the hell she took his little imprecation to let her know he needed her more closely and compatible. “Now, don’t get sore at me!” He reached out and pulled her to himself, lowering and hiding his face in her ample bosom. She was pretty brave. “I don’t mean to be a born lout, my Angel. I was pining for true interdependent clingy love, forgetting my manners. I should’ve appreciated the peerless bravery you put there for me.”

She held his head—tilting it up until his face was aligned with hers. “For you, Mister Jamike.”

The sorrow around her eyes was all gone. Coming out of the glum was a new kind of luscious beauty. “I know quite well… and I love you, my Lady.”

She had let his lips come up to hers. “I love you, too,” she said, her arms going around his shoulders. “Please, kiss me… assure me that you won’t be an ingrate over my love again.”

SonOfMan saw her lips quivering, and then let his hands go around her dutifully, and held her there until he sizeably assured her.

“Now we’re good?”

She nodded, and there were tears in her eyes again.

“Stop, it’s okay.” He mopped her eyes with the back of his hand. “Please, stop.” Then he gently led her back to the room where he would assure her better.