ON THE RUN (EPISODE 22)

Within a split second, he resolved to act a drama to save his unfortunate self. He pulled out his shirt and laid, supine, on the floor, beside the brown wooden bed, covering his eye with his hands. Ireti perceived a daunting movement in her bedroom. She walked slowly on her toes to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Ireti had always known that the best form of defense was attack. She inched her way back to her room, still on her toes.

“Who’s in there?!” Ireti hadn't been this scared in a while. “I’m with the police. Drop your weapons and come out now.”

“Aunty Aunty...” Dede groaned, rolling on the floor.

Her racing heart halted. She rushed into the room with confidence to confirm who the pained person was. Dede? She set aside the knife she was holding, then crouched beside him.

“God! What happened? What are you doing here?” She cared about the safe eye he covered, falling for his lie.

He groaned again. “Aunty...I forget the oga madam cloth wey you give me for inside your car. So I run come back come collect am, but I no meet you for house.” He coughed.

“Sorry. So what happened? How come my house is in a mess?” Ireti relieved her thigh of the pain that signaled at her hips, grounding her behind.

“I see two big big men inside the house when I enter. The slap wey dem slap me no get explanation. Thank God sey I fit even see small.”

“Aw! I’m so sorry about that. But did you manage to see their faces in any way?” She raised her an eyebrow.

“Kai, not at all.”

Her thought ran wide like an internet search engine, pondering on the possible answers to the bugging question that gushed into her petite mind. Who exactly could these men be? And why on earth was her house chosen amongst the hundreds of houses in her estate? Or perhaps, what was in her possession that these men needed so badly? Yes! The answer came almost too quickly. Ireti threw her longing gaze at her wardrobe, whose door was ajar. She sprang to her feet like a warrior, rushed to the wardrobe and yanked it open. And almost immediately she let out a sigh of deep relief, as the black bag of money welcomed her worried eyes. She didn't bother opening it, not because she was sure that the money would still be in it, but because an intruder, Dede, was in the room.

“Aunty, wetin happen?” Dede scrambled to his feet.

Ireti looked at him and gave a fake smile. “Nothing...Nothing at all.” She grinned.

Then, it occurred to her that her bedroom was well in order, not even was her bed unkempt. She had misplaced her priority. Ireti became ascertain that those men didn't come anywhere near her bedroom. The topsy-turvy sitting room had a lot of questions to answer, she nodded, assured, shuffling on to it. The books strewn all over the floor before the flaxen little shelf at a corner of the living room stole her attention.

Gosh! The disk! Ireti rushed to the shelf, nervous, knelt before the dusty heap of journals and novels, and with her fast moving eyes and ever speedy hands, she searched for a maroon paper-back novel titled ‘The Unknown’. She had chosen to hide the CD in this novel because of its ideal title, it matched perfectly with the content of the CD – the known left unknown. Beads of sweat immediately formed on her forehead and the goose bumps that arose from her supple chocolate skin were as tall as mountains.

She sneezed. And without a second thought, Ireti flung aside books that was in sharp contrast to the color of the book in question. She mouthed some words of prayer, prayer she only uttered when she encountered a problem, a problem big enough to change her comfortable status for the worse.

“Finding this novel would definitely gladden my heart. God please help me.” She said, again.

Yes! God is merciful. Ireti had always been a special candidate of His mercies. She knew God would speedily answer her short, mundane prayer and come to her rescue just as He did the day she would had lost her virginity over a bottle of perfume. That very night, after a very sumptuous get-together party organized by the student union government of her school, Ireti visited her then-boyfriend in his hostel, after several persuasive calls from him few days after their two months relationship brutally crumbled.

“Steve, it’s late and you know it. I have been out since morning and I really need to rest.” Ireti propped her back against the head-board, staring at the mauve pack of perfume sitting on his reading-table.

“I won’t take your time.”

“Fine. Go straight to the point.” She said, almost immediately.

“I want us to get back together again.”

Just to get him off her neck, Ireti let out a phony smile and replied, “Okay, we are back.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes, as easy as that. Can I go now?”

“Aw, no not yet. If truly you’re being sincere, let’s have our first and also a make-up sex.”

Ireti laughed. “Can I have that?” She pointed at the perfume, ignoring his aching urge.

“Come on Ireti, you know I don’t bother you for it.” He said, handing over to her the body mist.

Ireti brought out the perfume from the pack and sprayed some on her peach tube top. “Steve, I’m a virgin. I’m virgin. I am a virgin!” Her eyes narrow with warning. “Now, that makes it the hundred and one time you’re hearing that.”

“See, nobody cares about virginity in this country. It went out of style in the fifties, and trust me, honey, it ain't making a comeback.” He joined Ireti on the bed, with his slender body in singlet.

“I care. If nobody cares, I do.” She loved the scent of the perfume, as she gazed longingly at the label on the pack.

“My aunty sent that to me from the UK. One hundred and twenty pounds! You like it?”

“Wow, I do. I really like it.”

“Take it.”

“Seriously? Wow, thank you darling.” She squeezed a sensation into him, hugging him like the prodigal son did his father.

He whispered, quickly, into her ear. “That’s my little way of saying sorry for the wrongs have done.”

She let go of him and stared into his beaming eyes, thinking it was time to get over with the ‘oh my virginity’ syndrome. Ireti stepped into the shoes of a pushover when Steve said, “I know you’d like to marry a rich man. Well, then, rich men don’t marry virgins for the same reason they don’t hire chauffeurs who can’t drive. They value experience.”

What a magic a perfume could do. Oh! what a magic a costly perfume could do. Ireti was about giving a sacred body in exchange for a body mist. “Come over here.” She said.

Steve grinned, like someone who posed to take a shot with the Queen of England.

God understands, Ireti convinced herself, shunning the still, small voice that convicted her. Of course, God did understand, as He sat to watch where their temporary urges would lead them. He wouldn't stay calm, Steve had been longing for this supposed opportunity for two wavering months, and now he finally got it. Just as he pounced on Ireti, his unremitting and eager hands sent the perfume shattering on the floor, which immediately smash to smithereens their romantic quest.

“That just said it all. I’m sorry Steve, I am a virgin.” She pulled up her tube top to cover her already exposed bay bra. “Thank God I found my virginity before you stole it.” She said to Steve’s pale, disappointed face, then walked out of his room.

God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, says the Holy Book. Just as God answered her hushed petition, then, He did likewise this very day.

She found the novel. But, the CD was still missing.