September 10

I have been grounded for three days now. Dad made me to wash his car three times today without showing me any compensation by dropping a few wad of notes in my palm. I guess it is my punishment for assuming my sister was the female caller and deciding to take adult matters into my own hands.

A lot of people say that curiosity always kills the cat. I don't know if it is true or not. All I know is that I was a curious person who wasn't a cat or a cat lover. Actually, I hate cats. Those creatures never seem to understand when they need to be in their own personal space. Yesterday, when I went to the public dump site to empty some trash, I saw a cat searching for something in a black sack. Whatever it was looking for was none of my business. I was only concerned about its bright eyes that kept on staring at me in the dark. Why can't it just take what it wants and leave me alone?

It took moments of bravery and self motivation before I got the confidence to actually look through my Dad's phone. It took less than a minute before I found Sarah's number. I wrote it down, folded the paper, and threw it inside my pocket. When my Dad came inside the room and asked what I was doing with his phone, I lied to him by telling him that I was researching about some rare fish that only exists in the Pacific ocean. Funny enough, he believed me. I am a genius!

It was in the evening when I finally got the time to actually borrow my Mum's phone to call Sarah. It may look off the grid that I was trying to stalk my Dad's ex-girlfriend, but I was just bored and needed to go out and do something productive— something I wasn't doing in my house. 

"Hello!" I said, removing the phone from loudspeaker. For chrissake, I needed privacy.

"Hello!" Sarah replied. "Who is this?"

"I am Mr. Ford," I said, laughing. "You forgot to say goodbye to me before you left my house."

I could hear Sarah's laughter from the other end. It was gentle and calm like the breeze floating smoothly in the air.

"That is quite charming for a young man of your age," Sarah admitted. "I prefer to believe you left me standing before I even got a chance to recite a proper welcoming note."

"How sweet of you," I said, moving my fingers like a patient lion waiting to strike. "How old are you?" I asked.

You must have heard women say it is not right for a guy to ask about their age because it is improper and disrespectful. Although, I see age differently and take it in its natural form. A mere form of expressing human existence through numbers. Still, I was careful when the sudden desire to ask about it takes over me.

"I am thirty-nine," Sarah answered me. "Five years younger than your Dad."

Since my big sister was eighteen and she was born two years after my parents marriage, I did some quick calculations in my head and asked Sarah if my Dad got married when he was twenty-four. She agreed.

"Pretty young?" Sarah's thin accent filled my ears.

"Yes! That is way too early," I admitted.

"It is early, but not way too early," Sarah laughed. "I was nineteen then, about to enter the University of Ibadan, and my parents said I was too young to get married to your father. And he also wanted me to get a degree like my parents desired. He didn't want to mess up my future."

I was about to ask Sarah more questions, especially those related to her relationship with Dad, but Mum requested for her phone. However, I was able to set up a meeting place and a friendly date with Sarah before giving her back the phone. It was in two days time. I am smart, right?

The only problem I discovered I had purposely ignored was how I was going to leave the house unnoticed. I didn't want Dad to know I was hanging out with his ex-girlfriend he had chased from his compound, neither did I want Mum to feel I was an accomplice to a woman who, at first glance, resembled a marriage breaker. I went to my room and took a sheet of paper and wrote down the address she sent to Mum's phone. I don't know how I would sneak out from the house but I wasn't planning on not visiting her, either.