-
Chapter Fifteen
- LANGAA RPCIG
- Chapter
- Additional Information
65 C Chapter Fifteen he next couple of days were the longest he had ever experienced. Each day was so slow in passing that it felt like a whole week. And he spent them trying hard to wear a mask of normalcy over his face, a mask that was completely porous. His brain was wearing its own mask, a mask of denial. It was not denial of responsibility for the pregnancy; that was already settled (even if at times he still found his mind in that landscape of fantasy filled with a lot of possibility that all this was just a dream). It was denial to see the picture clearly, to look at the choices presented to him by life squarely. It was a denial that was not helping him one bit, for it was all wrapped around hypocrisy; a hypocrisy that rendered his facial mask more porous. “What’s the problem?” Derrick would ask from time to time, seeing through that mask, “You know for a week now you’ve been like a ghost around the house. What’s the matter?” “What’re you talking about? I’m fine.” “You’re not fooling anyone.” Derrick would shake his head and smile that particularly irritating smile that was all adult, all knowing. It was as if somehow Derrick could see what was going on in his head. There were times he actually thought Derrick knew exactly what was wrong with him, that he somehow knew what he had done. “You know if you’ve something worrying you, anything at all, you can tell me,” Derrick said one day. “No, I’m fine.” “Okay, if you say so.” But nothing was okay anywhere, not even back at the shop where an ever fidgeting and always knowing Okoro was there. He would be cleaning at an already cleaned item almost hypnotically as if it was some sacred religious relic that had been touched by the hand of the pope himself, then he would say something out of the blue, “You know I can help.” “Help me with what?” “With the problem you have,” eyeing him with the corner of his eyes always, a lot of amusement dancing around those eyes. T 66 “Who told you I’ve any problem?” “Nobody. But…” “I don’t have any problem.” It was there, the truth that everyone around him could see there was something wrong. What he did not know was if all those people (excluding the always eavesdropping Okoro) could guess the nature of his problem. He did not think so, and he wanted it to remain that way. He could not see any way on earth he could walk up to Derrick one morning and start ranting about it. That was completely impossible. All he could see was Derrick pitching a fit, and the ever demonic dragon lady smiling a tiny triumphant smile that could never reach the scowl on her face. “I told you he was a snake, a sneaky green snake. Walking around here like a saint and thinking he can fool me. I always knew what he was capable of, what that thing between his legs was capable of.” That particular image was beaming in multicolor inside his head. But there was still worst… “What’re we going to do about it?” that was becoming Mabel’s song. It was a horrible song and he always wished she would forget about it. “What’re we going to do about it? You know it’s getting big everyday?” “I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking.” “What do you mean by that?” “Look, I’m trying my best. I just don’t want to hurry and make a decision that would…” She would chew her fingernails for a while, the darkness taking over her face, and then she would say in a quiet voice, “You’re not the one carrying it. You’re not the one with the pregnancy, with your belly growing big every day. I’m the one.” Then she would burst into hot tears, the tears running down her cheeks like twin rivers. “What do you want me to do?” “I don’t know, but do something.” And then naturally he would try to console her, to calm her down. And it would always end in the same manner; the two of them in bed, she clutching him tightly onto her, her river of tears turning everything wet between them. It was a routine; the song racking...