Chapter Ten

SonOfMan saw Miss Iyebiye come to his door, walk into the room and put down the bag she was carrying. It was a drama, but he watched that and shrugged when she left again. Two minutes later she came back and wasn’t alone. MyAngel was with her. The arrant lover looked bubbly. Real bubbly. He called her a bitch as he lashed out, sending his fist landing against the reading table. The two ladies leered at him and stayed out of range. All he did was make his frustration put the squeeze on him the more.

“You know why this action here is purely un-gentlemanly; don’t you, Mister WyiWorri Jamike?” Ms Iyebiye wondered of him.

“But she knows she’s not welcomed here; I warned her. She thinks she’s pretty smart!” he muttered hotly.

“Yes, I know,” MyAngel agreed, drawing the bag Ms Iyebiye dropped at the middle of the room near the door, leaned on this door and waited for him to act another thing.

The ladies would have still been waiting standing there like that, if Prince Williams didn’t walk in. They looked at him; of course Ms Iyebiye wasn’t kind of see if MyAngel would get tossed out or not, because when MyAngel called her yesterday night to inform her that she would be on her way down to Ondo today, to meet her on an issue due to enlist her help to save her engagement with WyiWorri—she actually knew it was Prince Williams that nominated her for MyAngel.

Prince Williams said; “See, WyiWorri, for a healthy relationship, it’s good to give a measure of space to each other; becoming too possessive of partner’s time or attention can surely smother a relationship.” He handed a phone message to SonOfMan and added tonelessly; “It’s an apology from her; very contrite and all that. Dumebi, your fiancée, is free based on inconveniences beyond her control; so you’ll put away your punishment and lift your ban.”

The message said;-

Please help me tell him, I truly apologize. I would have made it for the party, but it was just beyond me. The days, my heart was down and my head spinning around from the nefarious weight of all his mistrust. He always insists on getting his way and in doing this, constantly makes me feel guilty, stupid and worthless. Abusively, he checks up on my where about, makes threat and gives ultimatums unnecessarily. Accusing me of flirting indecently with men when there is no basis for doing so—And now it’s unfortunate, under these pressures, all I suffered, I finally miscarried.

I finally miscarried, instant red came into SonOfMan’s face, but he fought to control how mad he was by the way he spoke. “It beats my imagination you were mixed up with her, Prince.” His voice was calm—just like cold. “I didn’t want to think so because you used to be a nice pal… like a brother.”

“So you were, WyiWorri.” Prince Williams had ice of his own.

SonOfMan’s face turned and pointed at MyAngel. “Now you’ve got friends, Dumebi? Now you’ve got friends who can pull strings and pull a rabbit out of a hat for you this way, because somebody is afraid of getting in wrong with my genuine love for you? Some other person even went the trouble of putting up your accomplice; so you have some very powerful friends all of a surprise?” His eyes shifted to Ms Iyebiye and Prince Williams a moment, before coming back to MyAngel. “You’re going to need them, my Lady, but they’ll never be able to help you enough.” He looked at Ms Iyebiye; “Yeah, if you truly want to help.”

“The common good takes priority over the individual good here, WyiWorri.” Prince Williams said.

SonOfMan’s face didn’t hide any of his anger. “I’m the one that bears the brunt here, Prince; what do you mean by common good?”

“Popular opinion, WyiWorri.”

“That when it’s unjust it should be obeyed?” SonOfMan flared. “Tell me, Prince!”

“WyiWorri, I’ll like to define you the common good here as the sum total of individual good which in no way stands against the individual good,” Prince Williams said seriously. “In such case, the individual good can never be justified in refusing to obey the laws of common good.”

SonOfMan watched Prince Williams truculently. He knew he was an ex-seminarian—a product of Plato, or maybe a direct offspring of Socrates. He knew he was a philosopher and a good one too. Maybe a beta plus. But he also knew he was injuriously wrong in this, and he snapped vociferously; “Even that eccentric Socrates you borrowed his incongruent idea here still on one side, believed that individual good has right to contradict and be against common good! Give me a space here; I have the right of caveat emptor.”

“Don’t be a larrikin, WyiWorri,” Ms Iyebiye chided.

“Yes… no man, however wise, can win judgment against his clan.” Prince Williams expensively came in again with that adage.

“Gawd, praxis certainly don’t pull my punches!” SonOfMan flared the more. “You know what? You were only part of this clan because my big-heart wished; trust me, what you’re now are simply messengers. And a messenger is not supposed to be a judge, and God knows, does not choose the massage he’ll carry.”

“The cost of peace is high, WyiWorri, but it’s worth the price,” Ms Iyebiye said and signalled MyAngel to go and sit, and then edged out of the room, closing the door.

MyAngel managed to shuffle across to the bed after a second signal from Prince Williams. She perched on the edge of the bed.

SonOfMan watched that and took some steps close to Prince Williams—his disappointment oozing out of every pore. “Don’t ever call me your brother, Prince. Never again; do you understand?” He swung on his heels and reached for the doorknob.

“WyiWorri,” Prince Williams said.

SonOfMan barely looked back.

“We used to be best of friends… close pals,” Prince Williams said again.

“I’m afraid, no more.”

“You used to be an understanding lover, too,” MyAngel put in.

SonOfMan looked all the way back, his hand still on the door. “No more.”

“When you finally realize that it’s possible for even a worldly brain like yours to be wrong and paranoid, maybe you’ll fancy my brotherly tough love to sustain the bonds of this union. You’re not smarter than me in love business, and I say, Dumebi, your fiancée, never was that player; think about it sometime.”

SonOfMan thought about it, for at least two seconds. Then he opened the door and slammed it behind him so hard that if it wasn’t his own door, one would think he wanted it come of the hinges.

What a sell-out! An unthinkable sell-out! He cursed and cursed. He remembered every curse word he had learnt and strung them out in a row. He was trotting out blind with rage—edging towards some honky-tonk spot his wandering movement was taking him to. The whole pointing precognition was a screwed-up mess—yeah, if ever he saw one. Everybody wanted him wrong, but she was the wrong. Ms Iyebiye wanted him wrong. Prince Williams wanted him wrong. Even a confidant and a correct pal, Gawd!

But Ms Iyebiye had understood his plight, believed it and even sympathized with him. And Prince Williams had stood behind him in this love race… but now it started going grubby and shoddy against him, he was prepared to chastise him instead.

Damned! Damned!

Evidently, there was some communication between the people on the streets and two upsetting visitors. The door to a lonely parlour was opened, where SonOfMan was doing justice to some bottles of drink around his table, and a courtesy waiter on a striped uniform grinned and ushered himself in. He closed the door as if he knew that SonOfMan was in this solitary section because he didn’t really want a company, and said; “Sir, some ladies want to see you; though you can cancel it.”

But SonOfMan didn’t even have time to do that. Ms Iyebiye and MyAngel had found his door before he could weigh considerations. They came in, nodded greetings and pulled chairs up for themselves.

SonOfMan had seen that the errant fiancée was bubbly earlier; yeah, she was as effervescent as the lady of page girl. Strictly vivacious in a decisive bib and tucke suit, looking like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Her hair was freshly braided and arranged in a splashy coiffure, and for a second he wished it was love cuddle he was giving her draw, instead of being there with foreboding jealousy, for a clairvoyance dangerously unheeded, and vicious pain at heart to keep it intolerable. Now he shuddered abominably, to show he was still teed off about something.

“Surely you have something on your mind, WyiWorri?” Ms Iyebiye said.

“Gawd, the way she seems to move events around to suit her exoneration, is quite disturbing!” SonOfMan hissed.

“Like this afternoon,” MyAngel joshed in and smiled.

“Like moments ago; do you realize that henpecked leverage?” he demanded of Ms Iyebiye, ignoring MyAngel. “She did, you see; but do you?”

“Sort of…” Ms Iyebiye said, and looking at MyAngel, she continued instead; “Perhaps you better explain, in case I miss a point. Tell him; you suffered these troubles, so you’re more familiar with the situation than I am.”

“He won’t listen to me, tell him anyhow,” MyAngel said.

“Okay,” Ms Iyebiye pressed her fingers. “We’re after two things; I’ll start it that way. A case of deception in a conjugal world of oaths and devotion, and a couple of double-dating against the modus operandi in a world of fidelity. Dumebi, your purported disregard has spread this case wide open as far as WyiWorri, your fiancé, here, is concerned. Until this afternoon you visited, and Princewill tendering your vindication, you were tagged for both aberrations.

“Let’s look at it this way; Dumebi, as a true lover, wasn’t concerned with imposture and inconstancy; it was clingy and sacrificial love that she was after. She was doing fine until this love happened to get her into sudden implication of lovemaking with unplanned motherhood, then all her good works eroded away when the pregnancy suddenly started giving trouble, and finally flowed out in some stubborn bleeding… giving her fiancé foreboding mind that formed suspicious prognosis in disturbing dreams. These prognostications are supposed to have happened, or be happening, with the misread disappointment caused by inconveniences beyond her control.”

“Unfairly misread,” MyAngel ventured another joshed remark.

“Shut up!” SonOfMan scorned readily.

“However,” Ms Iyebiye continued; “after she dodged from picking his calls, it made the case certain, and in one respect, the heat was directed away from the value of sacrifice she put there to keep his baby.

“Now we know this much, WyiWorri probably has the wrong notion, even as the actual divination of those strange dreams is yet to be known. We know that after she had that conception, WyiWorri, her fiancé, put so much mistrust over the actual father of her baby. And again, she and the unborn child were pretty in disagreement, until it finally got aborted… perhaps spontaneously. But the annoying problem point there to WyiWorri, her fiancé, was whether spontaneously or induced, at the end of the day, the reality was that the baby wouldn’t be source of verification.

“Now for the reason of uncertain cause of this gruesome termination, it’s possible that she’d taken abortion induced drugs to get rid of that babe, as long as it could afford her some let-out or alibi… and no doubt her fiancé’ inkling would have to shrink out, and she could have enough guilt trip to lay on him, since in the first place she showed huge sacrificial love when she refused to get rid of the baby. Perhaps the baby was stubborn and refused to be washed out, and she began to suffer tortures of long bleeding… and now he had to have enough guilty conscience to make the seeming life-in-danger sacrifice scourge him unfairly. But remember this; whatever, it has been termed as libellous damaging suspicion. If she could get away without his vindictive alarm button smashing her, a couple of vengeful moves, perhaps actually two-timing him, could make for some pretty revenge. She might have very well taken that questionable venture of the eventful day… without minding her grandiose vow… and made some sexual day-out with some rival.”

MyAngel gave a curt laugh. “Or she might have very well made another vow of betrothal, and damned her previous with him.”

SonOfMan shook disapprovingly. “No, I like it the first way,” he said.

“Why?” MyAngel talked again.

But he wouldn’t answer that.

“Because WyiWorri is still in love with her, that’s why.” It was Ms Iyebiye who answered it. “Along the line, he got disappointed, forlorn, lovelorn, but never hopeless. The love he has for her is still great that he wouldn’t really love to appreciate her replacement…” she threw a glance at SonOfMan; “even at these disreputable incidents he associates her with,” she added cattily.

“How did you get that?” MyAngel said, a little suspicious.

“I talked with him.” Ms Iyebiye smiled. “WyiWorri, your fiancé, is a nice man; if I see him moody, I try to help him ease the load.” She threw SonOfMan another glance. “You mentioned something about damning your previous vow of bonding; I think that vow was quite height of love,” she said to MyAngel. “It’s quite commendable.”

SonOfMan looked at Ms Iyebiye squarely. “Doggon it, her questionable ways have cheapened it!”

“No, your nefarious accusations have cheapened it!” MyAngel flared. “And you know they’re unsubstantiated?”

“But she can agree with me that they’re circumstantial!” SonOfMan retorted back. “The nefarious accusations have rightly cheapened the milky-mouse love; there’s no need going into the polemical detail of how and particularly why they did it, but they found that she had a dubious kind of sudden trip into motherhood and bury and bury forever, the means that would have been used to unravel the mystery.”

“So?” MyAngel demanded heavily.

“So there’s still the case of infidelity to be accounted for,” he supplied darkly. “By the time you deliver, I’d have known the truth and you know. Yeah, after your conception on January ninth or thirteenth or sixteenth, no alibi would breathe a second alive, if you put to bed a full blown baby a month or two before nine months, by my own calculation.”

Ms Iyebiye saw the frown on MyAngel’s face, and quickly said; “The point is this, WyiWorri, you’re not trying to make this case a private one enough. And since it’s going free-wheeling, it’s good to know that the code of conjugal conduct has its own inalienable rule officially assign to it, and applicable in conjunction with discipline. Now, WyiWorri, you’re sort of at the centre of an unguarded disputation; you can bust-up things if you’re not careful.”

SonOfMan stood up and watched Ms Iyebiye in a new wary fashion. “In other words, I’ll have to pull in my horns?”

“The matrimonial journey you’ve blissfully started, the divine destination and favour, is what matters. I know you still love her…” Ms Iyebiye turned to MyAngel; “And you too.”

MyAngel wouldn’t know whether that sentence was to be answered or not, but she could feel SonOfMan’s eyes on her, and she waited to see what he would say.

SonOfMan said; “Code of conjugal conduct, what is it there for?”

A moment pause and Ms Iyebiye said; “Primarily, complement, then trust and respect.”

“That’s very good,” he told her. “My love, it wants complement too; but that doesn’t come it all. Me, myself and I want a whole hell of people to know that WyiWorri was agitating because he didn’t have and couldn’t have and wouldn’t have anything to do with inconstant love of deceit, infidelity and disregard. I want to prove there’s still a decent chaste thing to be proud of in a young man that even women, with all their uppity protective pride, couldn’t keep in a bonded relationship… and this is all because of their seamy hot panties. Do you know how I’m going to do it?” The two ladies were waiting for him to say them, and he didn’t—he continued; “No, I won’t get the horns pulled in; do you understand that, Chrisette? They don’t get pulled in… not a bit. My barefaced disputation could bust-up things some, but there’s more chance that some brother elsewhere would first bust it up shamefully for me.” He waited, expecting an argument, but didn’t get any.

Now Ms Iyebiye hit her head in confusing fashion. “I know if you don’t prevent a crack, you’ll build a new wall. I understand quite well how you feel, WyiWorri, but please understand this; I’m not trying to interfere with your… um… crusade. I know the kind of issue you’re dealing with, and I don’t want it to be in further inconvenient scandals before you come to the divination of those dreams. You know, nevertheless, dreams sometimes come in reality pure opposite.”

“Further inconvenient scandals? Do you perchance mean the type that could force her to finally give me the kiss off… the old heave-ho?”

“Yes, my dear; the remaining teeth should chew with caution until the aching tooth is removed; you’re walking blind folded through the dangerous neighbourhood, and it’s like one who digs a cricket hole with a pestle and ends up blocking the hole.”

SonOfMan looked at MyAngel. “Madam, do you feel the same prosaic way?”

“More or less,” MyAngel confided. “With all intends and purposes, you’re sullying my huge love to scandalous farce. I’m a lady that needs some trust and respect to keep my rare love. Look at you, my fiancé, you’re screwing up the trust and respect pretty nicely.”

“Yes… pretty nicely,” Ms Iyebiye said.

“Then cui bono?”

“Cui bono?” Ms Iyebiye didn’t understand.

“If Dumebi is to be discharged and acquitted, and she actually pulled the treacherous stunt, which the divination would come unbearably, are you willing to console me? Chrisette, are you willing to redress the balance?”

Ms Iyebiye stood and got mad first, then dropped her eyes. “This is a case of love-relationship, cheating on love, WyiWorri, I can’t be in position to redress the balance.”

“Damn…” SonOfMan said and was going to say more, when the words there in his mouth couldn’t come out again. His mind was going around in a cute wary circle, making depth here and there… and the same home-truth started to appear, which was tendentious in a way, but with definite credence that painted a real picture of a cheat—a provoking cheat—because he couldn’t go to redress a betrayal, by the modus Vivendi, the way it was equal and fair situation.

So instead of all the words he had stored up, he sat down back and said; “Any chance of getting some assurance of penitence and reparation here?” He knew it from the atmosphere. He felt it strongly at each added moment of certain candour. Believe it—believe everything. As MyAngel was avoiding those calls, he knew a sizzling of some love escapade was taking place. She didn’t have to claim wrongfully beleaguered, because just as she knew what she did, he knew what she did. Both of them knew where she had gone all along. And he had come to believe it just as he had come to believe the history of Second World War, that Adolf Hitler was guilty of the Jewish holocaust. Now he watched his lady. “Dumebi, I charged you by the innocent love I have for you, look unto God and say I was evil for accusing you. If you don’t know, the way you boycotted our earlier arrangement, without informing me, only pushed me to rethink the mysteries around your pregnancy.” He watched her some more, she wasn’t ready to say anything, and he continued; “Well, I need insurance here. God knows…” he looked back at Ms Iyebiye; “I need some provisos here.”

MyAngel stood out from her chair, watched Ms Iyebiye a moment she got her sleight of hand gesture on support, and then moved to SonOfMan. Now she went on her hunkers, took his hand, and then looked up at his face; “Far beyond the call of love, as long as your love is there to lead me, I won’t lose my way.” She watched him, but he wasn’t ready to react. “You’re forever in my heart, always in my mind, because there’s no one I could love more than you.” Now she was repeating words of her engagement vow. “All my love is for you because you’re my true love, and I love you with all my heart.” It seemed he reacted a little, but then nothing happened on that face of his. “My love for you is like an ocean, it goes down so deep. My love for you is like a rose, whose beauty you want to keep. I love you, sweetheart, for real.” She concluded the pricey words.

Alright, this was melodramatic; too propitiatory that SonOfMan wouldn’t hold back some virtuous soft spot. He watched MyAngel’s face, everything he had accused her was expectantly hidden. When he thought them over again, he nodded. “Okay,” he told them; “I’ll pull in my horns.” He, yeah, then took her unto himself.

Prince Williams personally come to look for SonOfMan. The bike he chartered came up their way, and he climbed down, waving off the ladies silently, and SonOfMan watched them sashay across the road without hesitation, flap down a taxi and climb in. The poor honest broker looked pretty upset and God knows, it didn’t help his face any. He waved SonOfMan to climb the bike, and he too without more ado climbed the bike. Prince Williams climbed behind him, and the rider made a U-turn and picked the way back into the hostelry, where Prince Williams quickly settled him and settled for a discussion.

“Holy Mary, you’re acting on an impudent egoistic impulse, without being alert to the dangers!”

“Getting my head screwed right in love business… thinking, you know, about it sometime.”

“How?”

“Somehow you couldn’t approve, chum.”

“Another faux pas… man, another depredation?”

“Maybe, no.”

“Nope? And that’ll probably keep the relationship out of trouble more than anything else you can think of?”

“Yeah… it will,” SonOfMan made a rude concession.

“As long as you don’t marry one anymore,” Prince Williams sounded damned sour. He stood up, marched towards going away, but halted and waited until he had made sure SonOfMan wasn’t staying back to demand for drinks, then waved him over. “If you want some form of escapism for any solace, it’ll be at the house of God. I hope you don’t want me to believe that oath you took there in the presence of God, means little to you?” He watched SonOfMan’s level of deviance; “You were unfriendly, taking that arrogant leave because you were going to get stinking solace on alcohol… and you…”

“And I was, yeah, going to do it alone and without having your Band-Aid leverage in my hair; do you understand?” SonOfMan sassily interrupted.

“Shut up and listen; if you try to win the love of a woman by holding a stick in one hand, you’ll remain a bachelor for life,” Prince Williams cautioned. “And now, listen and listen good; keeping relationship is not always a bed of roses, so you must try to correct each other’s fault gently. Know that you can never find a perfect partner, but to involve the imperfect person perfectly. And lastly, the basis of every relationship is prayer. Make God, who you made me believe it was in His holy presence you made those vows, the foundation and bedrock of your relationship.”

“Okay, okay, chum,” SonOfMan propitiated.