THE KING'S PEN

Now anyone who ever for once thought danger had no smell haven’t perceived one yet. Most often than not, the malevolent presence of danger awakens our five senses. And then does the brain work in its fullest capacity. Staring lonesomely lost at Ireti, Dede’s white and clear eye-balls altered to a dim ox-blood, bulging out of its socket like an amateur who just took in a puff of Jamaican weed. His heart pounded hard against his rib cages and the spurt of blood that rushed into his arteries could easily be heard. His saliva became more viscous as it dribbled down his esophagus within split seconds.

He quickly moved away from the window and racked his brain for the safest way out, staying back or hiding in the room wasn't an option. Yes! The back window. This window had no window-panes but a wooden door with a bolt constructed to it. The window hadn't been open in years, as it was the medium the pungent smell from the soak-away, situated right behind the boy’s quarter, diffused into the room. At a drag, he hauled away the dirty green curtain that covered the window, then unbolted the window-door and pushed it open. Ammonia smelled like rose compared to the gas that rushed into his sacred nostrils. He could manage this smell, not even when his life was at stake. He shoved the bag through the window, and just after the bag kissed the ground, he perceived a sickening rushing steps towards the door. Without any delay, he heaved up to the window and squeezed himself out.

The door opened!

Ireti’s anxious gaze scattered all over the petite room. She walked in to be sure Dede wasn't hiding in a corner unknown to her. She kicked aside the clothes strewn all over the floor, then bent to her knees and checked under his bed, the very place she hid successfully the other day. She stood to her feet and noticed the opened, back window. That second, she tried to recall if she saw this window the last time she visited this room. No, she didn't. With her palm covering her nose from the overpowering stench, she inched towards the window to observe what lay behind it.

“He must have gone through this window! Definitely.” Ireti saw that the window led out to various routes and wasn't a dead-end. “But I called him...”

She rushed out of the room to the main house. And as common to her, she opened the door without knocking, looked around and couldn't see a trace of Salewa’s presence. No cup of juice on the sitting room center-table, the dining table was void of her morning dirty dishes and the air-conditioner still snoozed on.

“Salewa!” Ireti checked the kitchen. “Salewa.” She toned down her voice and watched her steps, heading towards the bedroom. Ireti solemnly prayed, “let this be Dede,” when she heard a soft moan from behind the door.

The issue holding her patience hostage provided no room for her to consider properly the question of whether to wait in the sitting room, as courtesy demanded, or to barge in and handle it at once. She affirmed the later and stormed in on them.

“Dede!” Ireti yelled in assumption, seeing the two were wholly covered under the big, cream and fleecy blanket.

Who the hell! Sanmi hurled off the blanket.

“Oh my God.” Ireti said under her breath, with her eyebrows raised and her mouth unable to close, staring shell-shocked at the mortified naked couple. Was she surprised to realize it wasn’t Dede? Or she could not have imagined that Sanmi was this endowed?

“Ireti, what’s this? Can’t you knock?” Salewa bawled, groping for Sanmi’s boxers somewhere on the bed.

“I’m sorry... Sanmi, please I’m so sorry.” Ireti and her guilty face, turned around to retreat.

“Wait.” Sanmi said to Ireti, now wearing his lemon boxers. “You called Dede, what’s the matter?” Sanmi’s keen eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Gazes began to clash just as the awkward silence crept amidst them. Salewa’s teary eyes caught on Ireti’s sorry look. Salewa feared, from the rant Ireti released on the phone, that she might be furious to let out her secret. And Sanmi wondering why the lingering silence ruled on, shifted his questioning gaze to his beloved wife. Sanmi killed every nauseating thoughts crawling into his curious mind that his wife cheated on him. He got no response from her, even now that he badly needed one. The impatient man rolled his mean eyes back again to Ireti who now opened her mouth and was ready to talk.

“Dede stole my money.” She said with an obvious evidence of tears tingling in her voice, bowing her head to conceal her teary eyes.

“Money?” Salewa wrapped herself more tightly in her nightie. “God! When?”

Ireti kept mute, still with her head bowed.

Sanmi heaved a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it wasn't what he thought. “Dede? I knew a whole lot must have happened in my absence. How much are we talking about?”

“Twelve million.”

“Twelve million!” The couple synchronized.

“Twelve million naira? That’s a huge sum, but how come? How did he...”

Ireti interrupted, giving him a quick summary to his intending question. “It’s a long story that I wouldn't like to cut short.”

“Sweetie please can you excuse us?” Salewa stood up from the bed. “I need to get every single details on this matter. Please if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, then stood up from the bed, grabbed the pale pink towel resting on Salewa’s cosmetic table, and inched on to the bathroom.

Salewa moved closer to Ireti, threw her hand around her neck and led her out of the room. Unknown to Sanmi that the two friends had left the room, he glued his ear to the bathroom door, hoping to eavesdrop their conversation. That sudden moment of realization dawned on him like a spark of miracle, now thinking why was his matrimonial bedroom the hiding place Ireti could ever think of finding Dede? His hands rested firmly on his hips as he stood stark-naked, lost in thought, under the rushing shower.

Secrets are like explosives used when all seem difficult, to weaken the strength of the enemy. Much more to push them out of their hiding places and to take back on the prevailing power to control the situation. Only the wise and the courageous could revoke secrets they’d lost to their enemy. Exactly, same was the case of Salewa and Ireti this scorching afternoon. After they entered the room Dede hid and were dumbfounded at the mess he’d made, Salewa narrated all that happened over the night.

“This is still a shock to me... Dede scaled through this window.” She added.

Ireti found it difficult to believe her long-time friend, grilling her even more. “I warned him over the phone not to leave but...” She paused, having noticed Salewa’s sudden pity face that exposed she had more to reveal.

“I was the one. I answered your call.”

“You what?”

“I’m sorry. I didn't want Sanmi to know the phone wasn't mine. He will kill me.”

“Oh my God! You knew about the money all the while?”

“No o! I swear to God.”

Ireti bit the edge of her lower lip. “This is beyond what I can handle on my own.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m involving your husband.” Ireti turned to the door

“Haba Ireti!” Salewa rushed and propped her back against the door. “You can’t do this to me.”

“I can’t do this to myself. I have less than ten hours to get my money back, else... So get out of my way.”

“Please don’t do this. Please.”

Ireti frowned, squeezing her mouth to a zero and forcing out a look of hatred from a corner of her right eye. Salewa stood her ground and wouldn't move away from the door. Then all of a sudden they heard the ignition of a car from outside. The two ladies paced to the window to check whose car it was. Now Salewa let out a sigh of deep relief while Ireti stood with a saggy jaw and a glint of anger in her eyes, as they watched Sanmi drive out of the compound.

“Get my money. My return wouldn't be as friendly as this.” Ireti said, walking to the door.

“What money? You had an affair with my houseboy, he stole your money and now you’re here blabbing about. You can’t dragged me into the pity pit that you are in.”

Ireti paused and turned around with a look that questioned her confident speech.

“Oh, you think I don’t know? My dear, I've known you for donkey years now and I can tell your every move when it comes to male living things.” Salewa inched towards her.

She smirked. “Good. I’ll be glad if you could tell what my next move would be.” Ireti opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.

How humiliated she had become if her husband found out she had an affair with the houseboy? Salewa thought within the minutes, knowing fully well how despicable Ireti could be when it came to issues that keeps her on her toes. There, another thought hit her unsettled mind again that Ireti might just be going after Sanmi.

Unknown to people, things hardly bothered a soldier, not even a soldier who had smelled, felt and seen blood gaping out from the skull of his comrade and had taken the lives of hundreds of enemy forces. Yes, nothing bothered a soldier. But on this day, the strange uninvited feeling that clouded Sanmi’s mind negated this premise. He had no choice than to drive out of the house to grab some fresh air, as he couldn't bear the heat coming from the thoughts that rushed into him. An hour or two was long enough time for his wife to get things in order, he thought to himself, driving at a considerable speed to Ikeja shopping mall, situated about twenty kilometers away from home.

The hustling and bustling in Lagos couldn't be over emphasized. The hordes of people flooding in and out of the mall left Sanmi completely marveled at the unique, unchanging characteristic this city possess. He came to a pause at the toll-gate to the mall, paid a fee in exchange for a parking ticket, then drove in to park his car. He drew in deep into his lungs, the sweet candy smell in the air, as he stepped out of his car and headed inside the mall. At first he had wanted to see a movie, but changed his mind just as his tasty eyes clocked on a watch-shop. He had in his wardrobe a collection of wrist-watches: Armani Exchange, Betsey Johnson, Calvin Klein, Caterpillar Cat, Ed Hardy, Hugo Boss, Michael Kors and Diesel. He loved to add to the number each time he had the opportunity to. This minute he walked into the glowing shop, meandering through the well-polished wooden shelves, checking the price and the brand that pleased him.

After few minutes of perambulating, he came to a conclusion, walked to the counter and placed an order for a Haurex Italia black leather wrist-watch.

“Are you paying cash, sir?” A female cashier, sitting behind the counter, asked with a smile.

“No. I’m using my card.” Sanmi brought out his debit card from his wallet. “Here...” He stretched it to her.

The cashier slot the card into the POS machine and just as she punched in the necessary data, Sanmi saw someone familiar and immediately his patience tipped over the edge.

“That’s Dede.” He sounded unsure, squinting at the guy in bright yellow stripes who walked by the shop, holding two loaded shopping bags.

“What do you mean, sir?” The cashier asked, pushing the POS to him to punch in his password.

“Never mind, not you.” He quickly gave his password, his mind on Dede. “Please kindly make it snappy.”

“Okay sir.” The cashier completed the transaction, tore out the receipt that rolled out of the POS, then gave him both his card and the receipt. “Thank you sir.” She smiled again and handed the pack of wrist-watch to him in a white opaque nylon.

He hurried out of the watch-shop, but the Dede he saw was no more in view. He rushed out of the mall and from a distance, his very sharp eyes caught on the guy in yellow walking out of the toll-gate. Only if Sanmi had known ahead of time that Dede was a twin, he wouldn't have troubled himself this much. The Dede he saw happened to be Dike. Yes, nobody ever thought Dike would survive that gruesome accident, let alone have well enough energy to squeeze himself out of the wrecked vehicle with nothing but minor bruises.

The accident occurred exactly 12:45 P.M on Thursday, along Lagos-Ibadan express way. Few of the many vehicle drivers that witnessed from afar, the horrendous acrobatic display of this fourteen-seater bus, stopped to help get out safe the unlucky passengers. They’d rushed to the scene but couldn't decipher where to begin. The driver’s bleeding head stuck out of the broken windshield while his lifeless body rested on the still steering wheel. The windows were completely shattered and its frames crushed to a close. Seeing the blood that flowed out of an opening beside the exhaust pipe, the rescuers concluded that no soul in this very bus could escape death.

Then, that very minute, Dike stuck his bleeding hand out of the bare rear window, flagging for help. He grabbed an edge and as he struggled to ease out his leg from the very tight corner, the rescuers came along and heaved him out. They got him under a shade and the very experienced ones gave him a first aid to overcome the shock of the incident. And just as the crowd returned to the accident scene, to dig in for another fortunate survivor, a fair middle-aged lady, dressed in a native attire, walked towards Dike.

“How are you feeling?” She said, sounding quite British, then sat beside him.

Dike nodded. He took in a short breath and nodded again, he liked the exotic heady fragrance that emanated from her body.

“Where are you heading to? Lagos, I guess. Where in Lagos?”

“My brother live for city. The address in the phone in the bus. I don’t know.” Dike tailored his English to the best of his ability.

“In the same bus? Oh no, how would we get the phone out? That’s if it ain't damage already.” She stared on at the effort of the Good Samaritans, pulling out the dead bodies from the bus. “You should know your way back to where you coming from, huh?”

Dike kept mute.

“Anyway, I pray your phone is intact.”

Of all the accessories gathered from the bus, Dike’s phone couldn't be found. Then, this lady resolved to take Dike back to his home in Abia the following week. But now she ushered him into her jeep and her driver drove them to her house in Lekki, Lagos.

Lekki was quite a distance Sanmi couldn't believe he’d travel this day. He entered his car and tailed after a white Range Rover jeep, the very one Dike was driven in. Sanmi wouldn't stop asking himself, “why did Dede leave the house?” Finding the answer to this pressing question was a golden challenge for him. He followed every turning as they did, but maintained a reasonable distance to dent every possible suspicion. Finally, the jeep made its last turn, this time around into a very big compound.

The reconnaissance was over.

Sanmi pulled the gear in reverse, his sight still wandering inside the compound as the gate-man pushed the gate close. He stepped on the gas and drove off. If what he thought happened to be true, then he wouldn't hesitate to kill Dede.

Dede rather feared dying poor than he did death itself. And ever since he had conceived this daring notion, the tenacity to enrich himself, by any means possible, went on to a whole new level. Dede thought the risk he took was no risk because he knew what he was doing. After boarding a motorcycle out of the barracks and a cab to the motor park, he decided to travel to Ibadan, a city known for its utmost serenity, to hide himself till the next morning, before journeying to his village.

The inescapable traffic jam along Lagos-Ibadan express-way delayed his arrival. He finally stepped his foot on Ibadan soil around four o’clock in the evening. What next? Where next? The questions that needed quick answers. And there as he stood, clutching more tightly to the handle of his bag, the idea of sleeping in an hotel slunk into his mind. Now, he went in search of a low-priced hotel, not far away from the motor park.

His ears picked the sound of a siren from afar. He paused, straining his ears to be sure where it came from. The sound drew closer accompanied with another threatening sound. Pow! He heard again and took off running into the unknown. The environment suddenly became raucous; fearful folks dashing to safety, doors and windows of roadside shops slammed shut, cars speeding off at a very high speed. Dede got off the perilous road, taking the next turn to his right, then rushed into a shop.

“Kilode? Kilode?” The shop owner asked. “What happen?!” Her classic Yoruba ascent contorted the English she spoke.

“Police. Thief.” Dede said. He wasn't even sure what he was running from.

“Everybody close your shop o!” They heard again from someone running to safety.

The young lady left Dede seated on the bench, ran outside her shop to pack in the goods she sold. Dede later slung his bag around his neck, then joined her in packing. And as they were about shutting the door, another guy rushed in with them. This lady understood the fact that everyone needed to run for their dear lives. But what she didn't understand, immediately she switched on the bulb, was the fact that this guy had in his hand a revolver and a black brief-case.

ON THE RUN (EPISODE 30)

by Unknown on 05:46

Now anyone who ever for once thought danger had no smell haven’t perceived one yet. Most often than not, the malevolent presence of dan...

Certainly, every now and again, people would find themselves in one trouble or the other. The shocking ones they knew nothing about, the minor ones they expected, and the very serious ones they’d dragged into their own court. Hence, only a few would go out of their way to find a lasting solution to it while many would sit back and wish it away. But none of these was the case of Salewa this truth-seeking morning.

She loftily stared at the screen of the prehistoric Nokia phone, thinking of the suitable lie she’d serve Sanmi to eat. Then it came to her like an epiphany that the digits displayed on the screen matched Ireti’s, so she claimed ownership.

“It’s mine.” She said, then seized the phone from his hand. “I had to change to another network, and I really don’t want to lose my contacts on my other line.”

“Okay.” Sanmi said, but didn't believe her. He knew how much his wife loved fancy things and wouldn't settle for anything less than what’s swanky, even if it’d cost her the last penny in her account. “Let me check where the crash came from.”

More like reflex, she placed her hand on his bare chest, holding him down in bed, then she answered the call. “Hello?” She said, then covered the mouth-piece of the phone and said again to her wary husband, “wait...just a minute.”

He hid his persistent curiosity behind a fake smile as he laid back on the bed, holding the pillow in his arms. He wondered who was on the line to have kept her mute and very attentive. Could it be one of her uncles? Or oh, her mum? No, it was Ireti. Never could he have guessed right, because he remembered vividly that her every day everyday conversation with Ireti was usually bubbly and was far from been a monologue.

Now Ireti was driving, at a considerable speed, down to Amdala barracks. Assured she had threatened Dede not to step an inch out of the house until she arrive, she immediately hung up the call. She peeked into the side mirror, then touched the bruise by the corner of her mouth. Her tear-stained face was titivated with a swollen contour on her left cheekbone and a plaster that cut across her right eyelid, looking more like Tyson after his ear-biting game with Holyfield.

Desmond, that beast!

He had called Dogo in, and ordered him to dump her insentient body in the secret room he kept his culprits. There that evening Ireti woke up to a shining yellow bulb that suspended in the middle of the very high ceiling. The room appeared more like a cell, bunk beds pushed forlornly against the wall, and dirty stainless plates stacked at a corner. There in the room was the lady who she heard screaming and whose blood speckles she saw on the floor at the passage of the building. And on one of the bunks laid another man, who stared at the ceiling as though retracing the journey of how he ended up in the room. Their eyes shimmered with undeniable pity and their countenance like that of a hungry refugee.

Ireti wouldn't stop being the die-hard of a person that she was, even after the long hours in coma. She sprang to her feet and soldiered on to the locked, ligneous door. Bang! Bang!! She pounded yet again at the door.

“Hey! Stop it. You’re placing your life on the edge.” The younger lady generously advised. “These men are dangerous.”

“Yes I know Miss, I was slapped. But I would be more dangerous if I don’t get out of here, right now!” She banged on.

The man on the bunk sat upright to face the mindless Ireti who now yelped out vain curses in her local dialect. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Knocking... Or what does it seem I’m doing?” She paused, then reluctantly turned and fixed her angry stare on the bald-headed man. “And when did you finish counting the ceiling boards?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Who do you think you are?” His voice deepened.

She giggled. “Desmond still have my profile. If you get the chance, you can ask him.” She retrieved her attention from him, and then again hit the door, this time even louder.

His jaw clenched as the bang resonated in his already troubled head. The wrinkles on his forehead doubled as he squint a look at her small fists, going back and forth, hitting the door in quick succession. He stood away from the bed and paced towards her.

Suddenly, the door opened with a very heavy force, whacked Ireti in the face, crashing her against the tiled floor. Everybody stood still like a paused movie. An outraged man with a body like a tower of lumpy pillows occupied the door-frame, pulled out the sleeping pistol from his belt-pouch, cocked it and squeezed the trigger at the bald-headed man.

Thud! He dropped dead. The hefty man by the door took a step aside, out of the room, and Desmond walked in with an evil grin. The two ladies were instantly blanketed with sudden fear of death, one that wasn't there for Ireti few seconds ago. The last shard of her bravery wouldn't scare away a cockroach. She remained still on the floor like a pole, sweat trickling down her bruised face, and her steady gaze clocked on Desmond’s mean look.

“In his gun are two extra bullets.” He sat on his heels before the dead man, pointing to the hefty man by the door. “One for each one of you that dares disturb my peace again.”

Yes, oftentimes the saints paid for the sins of the sinners.

“I still have your money...not spent a dime.” Ireti said to Desmond as he forged out of the room. “Please allow me get it for you.”

He had a quick deliberation on the spot. “Good. You’ll get my money and you’re free to get the police too.”

“No, I won’t...I promise. I swear!” She said almost immediately, her voice tingling with tears.

Desmond cared less about her response, turning at once to the hefty man. “Keep her till tomorrow. Then, she has twenty four hours.” He chuckled and left the room.

The twenty four hours had began to tick. She drove like the queen of the road; getting off behind slow drivers and sped pass even the very fast ones, ignoring the obvious red traffic light, dodging traffic jams by charging through a one-way route, all to get to her house to discover the bag of money missing. No doubt, Dede was the prime suspect. Now Dede, who just broke a louver in the Fashakins residence, had no idea about the danger that lay ahead of him. He scurried to the door and looked through the keyhole to be ascertain that the patent sound didn't arouse their suspicion. Salewa snapped a kiss on Sanmi’s neck, then walked to their bedroom door and slammed it shut, as if she knew someone was peeping at them. Dede moved his sly, bulbous eye away from the keyhole and quickly scaled out of the house, through the naked window.

He crept like a petty thief to his room. Time no longer smiled at him as he thought it wise to leave immediately, even without packing his clothing. Sure the money would set him up with new set of clothes if he could successfully escape. He picked two of his shirts and a pair of jean trouser and squeezed them into the very important bag. He slung the bag on his right shoulder, then shot a fast glance all around the room to be sure he had nothing important behind. No, he had nothing in the room, nothing at all, nothing that weighed nearly close to important, wondered why he worried. He rushed to the door and paused, his hand on the doorknob, when he heard the zooming sound of a car. He moved briskly to the window and saw Ireti coming out of the car.

ON THE RUN (EPISODE 29)

by Unknown on 09:52

Certainly, every now and again, people would find themselves in one trouble or the other. The shocking ones they knew nothing about, th...

The fear of the unknown was a usual common feeling amongst people who had secrets to hide. They sometimes have their brows furrowed at every person that had a thing to do with their dirty secrets. But most times their heart pounded very fast and loud and hard against its rib cages. This ill-starred morning Dede Okoduwa revealed an extra attribute. His palm became slightly damp and unpleasantly cold. He threaded his way, without a sound, to the sitting room, wondering who could be visiting this very hour. His mind hinted him that it might be Ireti, but he quickly dismissed the horrific thought. Oh, It had be fair enough if Ireti was the person behind the door.

He slunk closer to the door and glued his eye to the peephole. Sanmi stood backing the door, with his fist clenched tightly at his side. He couldn't see Sanmi’s face. Jeez! His peering eye caught on the black Echolac box and a greenish brown kit bag sitting by the doorway. He scuttled back to the bedroom like a rat to its hole, his head throbbing at a very fast rhythm. He locked his fearful gaze on the only possible escape route present in the room, the iron-barred window frame.

No way!

Sanmi knocked again!

“Who’s that?” Salewa mumbled, rolled out of the blanket with her sleepy eyes, yawning and stretching, having enjoyed her rest. Her eyes shimmered with surprise as she saw Dede standing in front of the window, pulling the iron bars, examining its strength. “Hey! What are you doing? And why the hell are you in my room?”

That latter question sounded weird in his ears. He turned around slowly and fastened his angry attention on her.

His enraged look scared her. Trying to be bossy, she raised her voice. “I said what are you-”

Dede rushed towards her and covered her mouth with his palm. Salewa struggled all the way, but regained her calm when she heard him say, “Abeg no shout, Oga is back. Na him dey knock.”

She slapped off his loosed grip from her mouth and quickly got out of bed. She rushed to the wardrobe, grabbed her negligee and covered her nakedness. Sweat sprinkled all around her forehead, the heat emitting from her quivering body could smoothen a rumpled shirt. She flicked her long curly hair off her shoulder and stood at akimbo with her head bowed. Thoughts gushing in and out of her troubled mind. How come Sanmi returned without a single clue about his arrival? Hope he wouldn't be suspicious now that it’s taking forever for him to gain access into his home? Where would this moron standing here be hidden?

“Salewa,” Dede called, putting a sudden pause to her jumbled thoughts. “Wetin we go do now?”

While Sanmi took a stroll to the boys’ quarter to ask Dede where his wife went to, Salewa stood still with a more confused aspect, staring into Dede’s eyes. The silence between them grew louder, very loud that one could easily hear the sound of the soft gentle breeze from the old ceiling fan. She still couldn't believe her ears, as she reiterated his words in her mind, laying more emphasis on the fact that Dede just called her by her name. The giant tree of her infidelity had began to bring forth fruit, so quickly. Well, that mattered less to her at this crucial hour, saving her marriage was key.

It all flashed before her very eyes, the ecstatic moments of her wedding ceremony. The lustrous grin on Sanmi’s face when he signed the marriage register, the minute they both cut the skyscraping cake, and the time she waved her cheery friends and her sober mum, from inside the festooned black Prado Jeep, goodbye. Not at all, she wasn't ready to allow all these be written into the book of history.

“Hurry, go in there.” She intoned, pointing out of her bedroom to another bedroom. Fast, very fast, Dede dashed out, across the sitting room, to the room without questioning.

“Dede!” Sanmi roared again.

Salewa rushed outside, looking shell-shocked, eyes hollowed, as she stood gazing at her husband from a distance. Sanmi limped towards her with his hands in his pockets, neither frowning nor sharing a smile. What’s going through his mind? Would he accept a hug or a kiss? Salewa quizzed herself, and squeezed out a smile. She leaned forward to hug him, but he gave her the cold shoulder. Sanmi remembered his dream the moment he met Dede’s absence in his room.

“Where on earth is Dede?” He squinted into her bright eyes.

“Come on sweetheart...” She attempted another hug, and failed again. “Fine! Since the only reason for your arrival, having left me alone for two wicked weeks, is to confirm where your stupid houseboy went to...fine...fine I will tell you.”

“Shush...” Sanmi noticed her eyes were beginning to saturate with tears. He pulled her closer and hugged her. “I’m sorry...so sorry.”

Oh! The power of a woman, how potent it is to fool even the wisest man. Now the table turned and Salewa had her husband’s heart as a plaything in her hands.

“I missed you baby.” She said, her jaw hanging on his shoulder.

“I missed you more.”

She slowly pulled away from his hold and kissed him. “Uh-oh,” she snapped off her lips from his mouth. His moustache, as thick as toothbrush bristles, pricked her supple upper lip.

“What?”

“You need to shave.” She smiled, examining his face, her hands on his bearded cheeks. “This is not the man I married. You look like a hobo.”

“Oh yeah and this is the woman I married. You look like an angel.”

The lovebirds let out a huge, happy, totally unrestrained laugh, then walked on into the house, to the sitting room.

‘Relationship is for two, three is a crowd,’ was a common saying, but that Salewa forgot, having Dede under the same roof with her perceptive husband. This moment a sickening thud came out from the room Dede hid, catching Sanmi’s attention.

“Honey, what’s that?” He strained his ears. “I thought I heard a bang.”

“No, you didn't.”

She slowly unknit her pink silky nightie to reveal her well-pumped breasts, pointing at him. Salewa knew the best way to block Sanmi’s perceiving ears was to keep his brain and mind busy. Without hesitation, Sanmi cleared his throat, his gape on her cleavage. This was like a romantic bombshell for a man who hadn't seen a woman’s nakedness for three weeks. His heart drummed faster than usual, his hands yearned for a touch and the spit he swallowed almost clogged his esophagus.

“They are all yours.” She said with open arms, making it clear to his thirsty eyes that she still got her sexy body intact. “Take your time...”

“Take my time? For heaven sake, I have no time left.”

She giggled, he yanked her closer, swept her off the ground, then head on to the bedroom. As they were busy rekindling weak feelings, Dede was also busy carving out his escape from the empty bedroom. Lucky for him, the window frame of the room was not barred, so his getaway depended on how fast he could remove the window-panes. All he cared about was the bag of money he kept under his bed in his unlocked room. He knew he had remain a pauper the rest of his life if he didn't seize this golden chance. He counted on luck, so did Salewa.

She had succeeded in stealing Sanmi’s interest and rigid attention. But little did she know that the curtain had not yet fallen on her performance and would have more to do than she had already done.

A phone rang from under the blanket.

Sanmi gropes for it. “Who’s phone is this?” He held it up to her face.

There and then the couple heard again, clearly, a crashing sound.

ON THE RUN (EPISODE 28)

by Unknown on 02:19

The fear of the unknown was a usual common feeling amongst people who had secrets to hide. They sometimes have their brows furrowed at ...

She pulled out her heels and tried sticking them into her cerise clutch purse. The spirit of Hennessy wouldn't let her be, having invited them, in throngs, into her blood stream. Her bursting belly rumbled and jumbled, she retched, then giggled at her silly state. All effort to walk steady failed as she zigzagged along the dark street, voicing out every single thought that popped into her sozzled head. The street brightened, thanks to the sudden cure of the epileptic power supply that snoozed the streetlights for days now. The path to her house became very clear to the normal human eye. Salewa still bumped into the garbage can, placed at a strategic corner by her driveway, and fell, polluting the very quiet environment with the crashing sound. Yes, the path to her house was only clear to the normal human eye. She cackled, sluggishly scrambling to her feet.

Now Dede, who wasn't paid to do only the laundry but to also keep watch over the entire house, sprang out of bed. He groped under his pillow for his flashlight, then swung the ray of light from one corner to the other through his window. The thought that it had be one of those hungry, giant rats that scurry around for leftovers disappeared when the spotlight came on Salewa, who sat on the garbage can. He rushed outside to confirm the reason behind her eerie behaviour.

“Oga madam, wetin happen?” He turned off the flashlight and inched more closer.

She stood. “H-h-h-heeeeey! Wheeeere d’ya think yeeer goin’?” She slurred, jabbing a finger into Dede’s chest.

His ever vigilant nose, that could perceive from afar the potato Salewa fried every Thursday, the Sunday jollof rice she cooked after church and the garlic in the Tuesday beans their neighbour prepared, didn't fail to recognize the smell of pure liquor oozing out from her mouth. He knew what he should do.

“Youlikemesomuch.” Salewa said, her words toppling from her mouth in a rush of barely distinguishable syllables.

Even though she said his mind, still he ignored her words, held her by her right and led her on to the house.

“I am not a baaaaby.” She forced her hand out of Dede’s grip. “I know what I’m doin’. I’m not druuuunk!”

Dede saw no difference between a mad person and someone who is drunk. Time happened to be the only distinguishing factor relating them. A gentle smile graced his lips, as he reached for the door-key in her purse. He opened the door and she teetered in to the sitting room and laid, supine near the glass center-table, on the jade green rug.

“Are you okay ma?” He knelt beside her, with sweats dripping down his pumping chest. “Oga madam, go sleep for inside.”

“Sanmi intheroomis sterile!”

Fear contorted his face. “Oga dey inside?” Dede shifted his gaze towards the bedroom.

“No! He is sterile!” She emphasized, and just as his ignorant brain ransacked the little piece of information it stored for the meaning of ‘sterile’, she leaned forward and yanked him to herself and kissed him.

He couldn't deny the chill that ran down his spine. Or never could he have thought this day would come again, not after the harsh warnings she showered on him the last time. His heart pumped more blood into his arteries like never before, seeing her bulgy bubbling bosom dance as she laughed. He laughed too. She stared into his beaming eyes, drove her soft palm around his sturdy chest and down to his abs and into his pewter breeches.

He twitched and moaned beneath his breath.

Energetic and dangerously ready did it arise like a phoenix from the ashes, the once limp tube in between his legs. The power of touch, from someone you grew feelings for, couldn't be over emphasized. Salewa realized how prepared he had become, so she decided to take it further.

She scrambled to her feet. “Follow me.” She said, wiggling into the bedroom.

He tailed after her without a second thought. Dede read his Bible thrice a week, knew about temptations and the forms they’re packaged in, but on this very temptation he was willing to fall. He entered the room and his wary eyes caught on Sanmi’s full-size portrait propped against the cream wall. A portrait of him winking to the camera in his dashing uniform.

“Hey! Over here, I’m waiting...” Salewa hauled his attention.

“Wow.” He mouthed, grinning from ear to ear. Salewa had pulled out her gown, leaving on her a nut-brown bra and a fuchsia lace-like panties. He crawled on the bed to her, then placed a kiss on her soft charming lips. The blazing sensation whirling within them couldn't be stopped by any external force. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Salewa loved moments like this, she just couldn't have enough of it. She groped for the switch of the bedside lamp and clicked it off, setting the room for a romantic battle. Dede liked the fact that her face was veiled in the sudden darkness, not having to see her as his boss but a random girl. He knew how to get around her major weakness, having found it out the last time they met in bed. The tip of his moist tongue idly stroking behind her fluffy ears always did the magic. Now he sent his fast fingers behind her back and they swiftly unhooked her bra, setting the twins free.

She groaned in soft pleasure, as he smoothly hauled her panties out of her legs. Her heart was thundering in her chest and her fist clenched tightly to the mattress. Her hips bucked forward, every nerve in her body goading her to speed things up. Thinking Dede still had his pants on, she reached for it and her palms clapped on his bare butt.

“Ouch!” She moaned, drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly. This definitely would be a night to remember. Few minutes after the romantic rumble she rolled under the blanket and slept off.

Dede did it again!

The early morning sun still found its way through the fleecy cotton to hit Dede’s sleepy face. He had slept for hours and the clock wouldn't stop ticking. His bones creaked as he stretched and yawned, sitting beside the bed. He pulled out his boxers and breeches from under Salewa’s back, under the blanket. And just as he wore them, his tired eyes locked on Sanmi’s portrait again. His heart skipped a bit as Sanmi winked at him.

10:32 A.M. He peeked at the wall clock. He knew he had to leave immediately, away from this house, away from this barracks and away from this city. But the sudden realization dawned on him too late, as the owner of the house was already at the doorstep.

Yes, Sanmi is back. He let down his luggage and knocked at the door.

ON THE RUN (EPISODE 27)

by Unknown on 01:49

She pulled out her heels and tried sticking them into her cerise clutch purse. The spirit of Hennessy wouldn't let her be, havi...

Never underestimate the power of a woman. And never underestimate the power of a curious woman. The things hidden in the darkest corners of ones knowledge could easily be brought to light by God, and perfectly searched out and displayed by an inquisitive woman. Salewa Fashakin was not the kind of woman who liked to take rash decision. But when it came to issues that pose a threat to her, she plunged into one.

After driving kilometers away from her home to the address on the blue fluffy paper, she missed her luck, as the person she planned to see just zoomed out of the compound the very minute she arrived. ‘Doctors are very busy people,’ Salewa failed to realize this when she knitted her brows and growled at the innocent nurses, who understood the ethics of their job, veiling their madness behind glowing grins.

“Ma, the doctor just left the hospital. You might have bumped into him on your way in. We ain't lying.” One of the nurses said. “Are you here for a checkup?”

It had be better if it was a checkup. Though they were all well experienced and could stand in the gap for their boss, still the solo situation bugging Salewa was way too high for the beaming nurses to handle.

“When is he coming back?” She took off her dark shades, as her pale blue handbag slipped down from her shoulder.

One of the nurses peeked at the ticking clock and another answered, “he left not quite long...we can’t certainly tell where he went or when he’d return.”

Salewa itched her head with the tip of her car-key, then took a glance at her wristwatch. “Can I wait for him?”

“That’s up to you ma. You can sit over there.”

Over where? Salewa turned around and saw all that didn't occur to her when she walked in. The long brown benches, far left of the reception room, were filled with sick people who sat in turn. Tottering under her many anxieties to take a seat, her sensible heels squeaking on the pristine tiles drew more attention to her. And then the piteous patients budged their loath behinds, creating a space for her to sit. Fair enough, she could managed the edge of the bench.

She noticed again that there hung no paintings on the wall nor any sign of vibrancy. Everything was a shade of pure white, the floor, the walls and the ceiling. This very minute a pungent, medicinal whiff rushed into her innocent nostrils. Now this was one of the reasons she hated visiting the hospital. She couldn't fathom where the smell oozed from. It was everywhere. She almost closed her nostrils, but then she wondered if she was the only one perceiving the odour, as the folks around her were all very comfortable, inhaling and exhaling it.

The clock ticked on and on and on, and the arrival of the doctor grew even bleak. How long more would she have to wait? Her anxious mind wondered as her eyes wandered. The programme airing on the TV, situated at a corner far above the reach of the tallest nurse, refreshed her already heavy eyes. And just as she enjoyed the tranquility of the once annoying environment, the aged man sitting beside her began his series of cough. This self-same moment, the baby behind the woman seated in front of her began his bouts of cry. Now Salewa, who shielded her nose and mouth from catching the bacteria the coughing man fired into the atmosphere, wished she could stuck her free hand into the mouth of the baby, as his noise pitched into her sensitive ears. She rolled a goggle eyes at the baby, hoping he’d be quiet, but to no avail. That only escalated the volume of the ignorant baby to a whole new level.

The woman stood to comfort her baby, loosened her wrapper and patted his buttocks gently with her palm. Then Salewa spotted this woman’s protruding tummy. She was definitely expecting another child. The baby stopped crying, but Salewa couldn't stop thinking. Would she ever be like this woman? Hope she wasn't just an uterus in heels? Would she ever carry Sanmi’s child in her womb? How on earth could he hide such a weighty and insistent information from her? No answer surfaced to these maddening questions. Her palms became damp and her brow furrowed. She hissed, clutched to her bag and soldiered on to meet the giggling nurses, seated behind the counter.

“I wonder your job here. Been over there watching you since like forever and all you do here was laugh and chat. Patients aren't attended to... That man, the one on red polo shirt, is busy infecting people with what doesn't have a name and all you do was to have him still seated amongst us. Sorry, among them. I doubt if you even care.”

“Excuse me ma...” One of the nurses tried calming her down.

Salewa wouldn't be easily interjected. “Hey! Please excuse me busty nurse I’m still talking. I wonder if that’s how you operate daily here.”

“Excuse me ma?”

Salewa rolled her angry eyes at the busty nurse and again, she held her peace. “I still can’t believe Sanmi had anything to do here.” She thought out loud. “Even the doctor doesn't seem reliable, he left these number of patients and went on a hike!”

Salewa threw a quick look at the astonished patients, who paid keen attention to all she was saying, then shuffled her gaze between the nurses, standing at different positions. Nobody said a word as the silence screamed out loud. She reached for her dark shades in her handbag and wore it. “Now imagine, this is too dark.” She yanked off the shades, peeked at the clock and walked out of the hospital. The day couldn't have been more disappointing for Salewa, as she drove home with her headlamps on, hooting at every slow driver that came ahead of her.

Even though the sun had long settled, the bag of money with Dede brought back sunshine into his life. His face radiated with joy as he sat on his bed with the loaded bag in between his legs. He peeked again at his door to ensure he had dropped the iron latch behind it. The heat that consumed the stuffy room could lit a cigarette. He hauled out his shirt, tossed it aside, then dug into the bag and brought out bales of naira notes.

He grinned.

Now his mother could live the life she never dreamed of; having her relocate to the city to set her up with the biggest cold-room in town, selling different species of fish, beef and turkey parts. And his twin may perhaps own a business, if schooling was of no interest to him anymore. Thoughts kept rushing into his greedy mind, but not too long was he jolted back to life when a knock hit his door. He paused for some seconds staring at the door, and the bang came again, even louder.

“Dede! I’m sure that was loud enough to bring you back from your dreamland.” Salewa said. “Bring my gown. Now!”

His heart stopped racing as he heard her heels fade away. It had be a good idea if he whizzed away, that very moment, with the money. But he didn't because of the fear of being stopped by the sentry at the exit of the barracks, the search every night was usually very thorough. So Dede went quickly to deliver the gown to her.

The ardent ire swirling within Salewa sent her deep sense of reasoning on vacation. She failed to notice the dress she wore wasn't hers, even while it was tight coming into it. It didn't matter to her then nor now that she wiggled out to Captain Dogo’s wife’s get-together. The only place a angry woman wouldn't refuse going is the shopping mall. With Salewa, it was a well organized party.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked every person that approached her in the party.

“Nothing, I’m very fine.” She had repeated over and over again.

The only way to seal their lips from further questions was to join in the merriment. After several cups of Hennessy, she finally convinced everyone she was very fine. The party continued till eleven, but Salewa left the venue some minutes past ten. She teetered down the quiet street, her eyes giddy and were dragging to a close. Oh! The consequence of pleasing others at the detriment of oneself always have a longer repercussion than one could ever imagine.