Chapter Six

Bisi quietly closed the door behind her and moved to where he sat. He was watching a movie, some Chinese karate movie. 

“How did you know I was around,” Donald asked her, surprised.

“I knew you didn’t later go last night,” Bisi said, looking around “Hope she is not around” 

“Emelda?”

“Yes. She went to work,” Donald said, taking her hand. “What is it about you that I could not take my eyes off you the first time I saw you?” 

“You came from abroad,” Bisi said, drawing an imaginary line out of shyness.  

Donald wondered how his coming back from abroad answered his question. He couldn’t draw any connection between what he said and her answer. It dawned on him that he would be dealing with a teenager who looked smarter in appearance than in thinking. 

“Oh. Is that it? People abroad have answers to all mysteries?” he drew her closer and paused. A moment of awful silence besieged the whole room. And something rebuked him, a voice he didn’t know where it had come from, telling him that even if he had made up his mind to do this, it should not be at his girlfriend’s house. That he should give her some respect. 

Bisi was not older than sixteen, but he could swear about her sexual precocity. No man would see her skimpy dress and not fall for it. Donald was battling with this thought when he heard a knock on the door. His heart skipped. 

“Emelda,” a voice called. 

“My Mummy,” Bisi said, nervous. “That is her voice” 

“What do you want me to do now?” Donald said. He lowered his voice so down that he would hardly hear himself. 

“I am not around,” Bisi said. 

Bisi’s mother called for the third time, impatient, banging on the door.  

“Emelda is not around. Who the hell is banging on this door,” Donald stood up, furious, and went to the door. 

“I saw Bisi enter this room, where is she?” she said, raising her head above his shoulders to inspect the room.  

“Who the hell are you? And who is Bisi?” Donald said, standing firmly on the door. She tried but couldn’t see beyond his body. 

“I am Emelda’s neighbor. My daughter entered this room. I saw her”

“Madam, are you okay? Do you even know me in the first place? How dare you?”

“You are Emelda’s boyfriend. You came back from London. You visited her yesterday and slept over” she said “What else is there to know about?” 

“This is rude” Donald looked at her from head to toe and wondered how he knew his details “You don’t talk to people like that”

She sighed and turned to leave. Donald watched as she dance-walked, her buttocks shaking behind her. She saw it, her hip, as huge as her daughter’s. He guessed she was a single mother, probably divorced, with Bisi as her only child.  

Donald was still standing, transfixed when she turned and said very loudly “Don’t deceive my daughter with your Oyibo gifts. You had better provide her now else I will tell Emelda you are cheating on her. As for my daughter, I will kill her with my bare hands” 

“Who is this?” Donald said, bemused. For some minutes, he stood, not knowing what next to do until he was shaken off his anxiety; he banged the door behind him.

“What did she say?” Bisi said, coming out from where she hid. She deemed herself lucky because had she been allowed to search for her, she would have caught her. She would have hidden in a darker corner of the apartment but everything happened so suddenly.

“She is that cantankerous,” he said and threw himself back on the setee with a haggard look. It all seemed he had lost appetite for what he had longed for. 

Bisi nodded as if she understood the word. But from the way it sounded, she knew it must be a negative remark and had to agree. 

“My Mummy could be strict,” she managed to say, short of words. 

“That is an understatement” Donald looked at her completely surprised as if to say you don’t know your Mummy too well.

“She is hostile. How have you been coping with her,” he said “And where is your Dad?”

“It is a long story. We can talk about that later” Bisi said, hurt. Her look had changed as if the mere call of her Dad was a torment. She looked at the wall clock without intending to and knew it would not be long before Emelda comes back and she would greet her in her child-like voice as if she was naïve, and didn’t know anything about life. 

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Donald said. 

“It’s okay”

“I think you must be going now. Take” he gave her a card. “Let’s meet tomorrow”

“Thank you”

Donald was thinking of how everything happened so fast. After making love to Emelda yesterday, while they were discussing, Bisi had come in to greet her and probably collect some gifts as she always did. Emelda didn’t come back with any but decided to trudge downstairs to get her some.

Emelda had asked Bisi to sit while she got something for her. They were left alone, Donald and Bisi, and that was it. Donald engaged her in a very delicate conversation probably too advanced for her age, and she responded with so much interest in him. Stealing some glances at his six-packs and muscles.  

He was intrigued too. There were so many ways the presence of this lass charmed him —the scents, the voice, the movements, the artful glances, and her skimpy dress. These pleasurable details turned him into a distracted toddler. And he could not help but keep on talking. 

He went further with his sweet talks, telling her how he had travelled to London to school, and how he had come back with a remarkable result, respected by the White. He told her the beauty of travelling abroad, meeting with white men, and experiencing the aura of their intelligence.

He told her many things to impress her, including how, as a football enthusiast, he travelled to Manchester, went to Old Trafford to watch a football match live, and the pleasure of seeing great footballers he had been admiring from afar – somebody like Paul Scholes and Wayne Rooney. 

His phone beeped and he picked it up fast.

“Hi, Don,” Emelda said in a near-croak voice as someone who cleared her throat.  

“Are you coming home?” he asked.

“I am on my way”

“Good”

“How are you doing?”

“I am bored”

“Are you done with your Karate movies?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t take away the displeasure”

“I will be with you in a jiffy” 

“Babe,” he called but discovered she had ended the call. 

“I don’t think I can wait,” he said to himself. 

When he was done taking his bath, it was already 5: P: m and Emelda had not come back. What could be the reason? It was almost an hour ago he spoke to her on phone, and she had said she would arrive in a jiffy but where was she? He went to the cabinet and slide open the first drawer. Brought out a pen and paper to write.

He waved the thought and decided to text her. No. The old method would be better, he concluded and quickly scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

Emelda came home some minutes after he left. Thinking he was still around, probably hiding as he usually did if he wanted to play with her. She called him many times in such a beguiling tone. No one appeared. To seduce him into showing himself, she said she had come with his favorite gift.

That didn’t do the trick. She called many times, laughing off her charms, but oblivious of the note he left on the centre, brown table.

Now, she was convinced he was not in the house and picked up her phone to call him. It was switched off. What! “Don and his unpredictable attitude. What is he up to?”

She dialed the number, again and again, ignoring the annoying voice of customer care that kept on telling her the number she was calling was switched off and she should try again later. As if she didn’t understand the message, she redialed and redialed until she got tired; she lay to rest and before she could know it, she dozed off. 

As if in a trance, she could hear some noise on the door. She came back to consciousness and projected her ears. It was real. She stood up and opened the door. 

“Emelda, you are welcome,” Bisi’s mother said. 

“Thank you, Ma,” she said “I am sorry I kept you waiting. I dozed off”

“Don’t worry; I know you must be tired” 

“Today was hectic,” Emelda said so calmly that it elicited pity from Mama Bisi. 

“It has always been. Speaking on the radio for hours with all the noise and difficulty of some callers. Why wouldn’t you be tired?”

Emelda felt strangely at this sudden show of concern. 

“I hope everything is fine,” Emelda said and looked down unconsciously. She wore some provocative dress and she wondered why she kept saying her daughter was wayward but was a perfect example of waywardness. Wouldn’t it be better for one to educate one’s child through character rather than words? Emelda must be thinking. 

“Everything is okay, my dear. I just wanted to say hi,” She tried to know whether Donald was still inside. Of course, she hadn’t meant to talk to him in that manner and would have apologized if he was the one that opened the door. 

“I am good. Thank you”

“You are welcome, dear,” she said again, stalling time while she examined what was happening inside if someone was there. Not knowing how to ask if her boyfriend had left, she said “I cooked a delicious food: ukwa. You must be hungry”

“Never mind. Thank you,” the strangeness of her demeanour left much to be desired. Emelda could only wonder. 

“What of your Fiancé? He must be hungry too”

“Oh. Did you meet him?” Emelda said, surprised. While inspecting her, her surprise grew to fright.  

“I just thought he must be the one. I haven’t seen you with any other man for quite a long time,” she chuckled and threw a friendly punch at Emelda. 

“He had left” 

“When would he visit again?” 

Emelda pretended she was okay with the question. 

“I don’t know,” she said flatly. 

“Okay. Take care of him. I can’t wait to dance and jubilate at your wedding ceremony” 

What fantasy, Emelda would have said. Donald had not even proposed to her let alone talk about the wedding. Did she see anything around her ring finger? Why was she dreaming on her behalf? 

“Hope Bisi is fine. I haven’t seen her since I came back,” Emelda said but immediately regretted her words; She knew she could go on a long talk about Bisi and her awful attitude. And would always narrate it in such a style that one would think she was a perfect mother who was only trying to raise a good child but whose effort was not yielding results owing to the child’s recalcitrance.

“Bisi is fine. I think she had checked on you before your arrival. Or...” she had not finished talking when Emelda unknowingly cut her off. 

“Sorry,” she gave her a sign to continue. 

“I think you had come back when she knocked. You probably were sleeping”

“Yes, I dozed off”

Emelda didn’t know what else to say. Mama Bisi had nothing else to say, either, so she closed the door behind her after telling her to greet Bisi for her.