Junkyard Blues

Chapter Thirty

121 C Chapter Thirty hen he told me I wasn’t thinking big,” he said the words without hating himself for saying them. The anger and that feeling of being insulted were now completely gone. In fact he felt excited, felt like he was someone new, someone new who was heading for something big and worthwhile. As usual Niba was there, listening to him like he was giving a life saving sermon. “That I had to have a little ambition,” Jude said. “That’s more than true.” “What’s true?” “Everything he said about…” “Shut up.” They both laughed and it was one of those laughs that actually felt good. The beer before him was still untouched, even though Niba was already wolfing down his second beer. Jude did not really feel like drinking the beer, he did not need any beer today. I can even stop drinking the thing like it’s the only thing I’ve to do in life. “Are you going to drink that or what?” Niba asked as if he could hear his thoughts. Jude took the beer and swallowed a mouthful, not failing to notice how tasteless it was now. “That’s better, I hate to drink alone,” Niba said, “So, what did he say after that?” “Is there something wrong with me wanting to go back to Buea and get my masters?” he had asked Eric his words coming out with the bitterness he felt inside. Who’re you to tell me I’m not ambitious? What the hell do you mean by that? Eric shook his head, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, nothing I can think of, the University of Buea is actually a good school,” he said and took a sip of his wine, Jude feeling the anger burble inside watching the smile on Eric’s face. Why did I come here? “T 122 “Then what’s the matter?” his voice still laced with the bitterness, he could actually taste them as they came out of his mouth. What did Eric think he knew that he did not know in this life? Just because Eric was now a rich fellow didn’t mean he knew anything or that he had the right to tell him what he was and what he wasn’t. “Buea’s fine, but the problem’s Buea.” Eric indicated for the waitress to clear their table. When she was gone he said again, “Buea’s the problem.” The waitress brought their bill and he saw Eric hand her two clean ten thousand banknotes, “Bring my friend a beer.” “No, no…” Jude did no longer want anything from the man, in fact all he wanted to do was get up and storm out of the place. “I insist,” Eric said and turned to the waitress, “And keep the change.” When she brought the beer and left Eric said, “She’s attractive, if only I was not,” he showed Jude his ring finger, “She wants us to be married before next year.” Jude said nothing; he did not even touch the beer before him. Eric leaned back in his seat and interlocked his fingers over his already protruding belly and said, “Buea,” he shook his head, “I still hate that place. Why do you want to think about something small like Buea when you can think of something big?” “You still haven’t told me what’s wrong with…” “Buea? There’re better schools around.” “But not in this country.” “Yes, that’s the point.” “I don’t…” “The world is filled with good schools, schools that offer better programs.” Schools for the rich. What am I doing sitting here and listening to this fool insult me? “I know you’ll say they’re expensive.” “Yes, and even getting a scholarship these days is not easy.” Jude said. “Nothing’s impossible when you really want it bad enough,” Eric said. Nothing’s impossible… “It just depends on how bad you want to succeed,” Eric was saying, “Look at me, could anyone have believed that…?” he shook his head and said, “It’s easy, I don’t think you want to become a sub-Saharan professor.” 123 That brought a smile to Jude’s face even if he still felt a little insulted, that word sub-Saharan professor. “You’re intelligent, I’ve always admired your intelligence and I cannot want to see you waste that...