Hi everybody, welcome to this week’s GUESTCRIB. It’s an avenue for writers to air their stories on a different platform. You can send in your brilliant entries of not less than 500words with your details (twitter and blog address) so it can be aired…plus…make it your best writing as we would be airing the best. send entries to firstname.lastname@example.org
This week, our guest is Greg Emuze and is titled Two Sides of a Dish. you can follow him on Twitter @deTONEnate and follow up more works at http://isleofcupid.wordpress.com/
Maryland. Thursday. 5:16pm
“Oga, you no fit park for hia!” the security guard spat at him.
“WTF!” he cursed under his breath. How was he supposed to pull off a surprise if she spotted his car the moment she approached her house? He had tried parking somewhere out of view but this ‘Aboki’ was having none of it.
He turned the car around. This whole thing was getting pretty tricky. He wondered if he should just drive off, go home and do this some other time, some other place. Another life time, maybe. But he knew the torrent of words and ‘re-training’ the girls in his department would give him. His colleagues were the best to work with, but there was a price to pay being the only guy in the Business Development department. They were always on his case. He was the only single soul in there.
He found another parking spot, not as inconspicuous as the other one, but he hoped it would do. It would be dark in a bit anyway. “Now, we wait.” he said. ‘We’ because the subject of his department’s group chat tonight was where Lanre Adekanbi-Louis was and what he was going to pull off tonight.
Mobolaji Bank Anthony. Thursday. 7:07pm.
“Why wont these tears stop flowing?” Eno wondered aloud. She was out of kleenex. This was getting real bad. She easily broke down these days. Her defences were totally gone. She could hardly put herself together. She’d had a bad day at work, she lost a patient, had been yelled at by the bossy matron, missed her hair appointment and her phone had refused to come on after it had fallen badly during the struggle to save the 19 year old girl who had died anyway.
All she wanted was to crawl into her bed. It was an empty house these days. Her twin sister whom she had shared the apartment with had gotten married four months ago and left for Abuja. Now her weakness – being a poor cook, had started to take its toll. Her twin, a linguist was unarguable the better cook, better than their mum, most will argue. But she? Well, she was the one who saved lives all day, everyday, while her own life spun out of her grip.
Maryland. Thursday. 7:28pm.
She made the traffic light just before it went red, the only good thing that had happened to her all day, turned left and made another right into her neighbourhood. She pulled up at her gate and got out, engine running. Lanre had always warned her about that, but she was past caring. “Let someone steal the car and add the icing on the day’s cake” she murmured as she let herself in to open the gates.
Lanre saw Eno pull up and get out of her car to get the gates. “Here we go” he said as he turned the AC off, switched off the ignition, got out of his car and headed for Eno’s. He had met her about 11months ago and thought she was cool. The chance meeting at the mechanic’s had slowly become a comfortably paced relationship. Just the way he liked it – no hassles.
He saw she’d left the car running again, ‘a chance to teach her a lesson’, he though. Quickly, he ran to her car, let himself in and set it in reverse motion just as Eno swung the gates open. “Hey!” She screamed running after the retreating car. Lanre stopped, he was laughing so hard he didn’t feel all the blows she rained on him when she’d gotten the door open.
“Was good to see you run so hard, doc!” Lanre managed between laughs. “Shut up, jooor! Ika oshi!” Eno spat returning to the gate, to let him drive the car in.
She was used to having him around. Not like he had a lot of free time, but he seemed to enjoy her company and dropped in at least weekly. She liked him being around. She didn’t feel so lonely. The only drawback being they had to cook. As far as she could see he wasn’t the type to try and get her committed to him. He liked it easy and loose, she was fine with it too. Not after what she’d gone through in her last two relationships.
He slouched on the sofa, shoes off, trying to figure out why her phone wouldn’t power on. Maybe he should just get her another one. “Let’s see how it goes tonight” he murmured. He’d muted the office group chat. those ladies were driving him bunkers. Through out his wait, they’d coached, spurred, soothed and even prayed for him! He sure had a lot of mums and sisters here in Nigeria. The blood ones were in the States.
He could hear her making food in the kitchen, he’d noticed it wasn’t exactly her strong suit, but she was trying hard. He’ll just give her a hand as usual. He knew he was an above average cook.
Eno was at one of the tasks she hated the most, making the sauce. Peppers! Tomatoes! Onions! Puree! Spices! The tears were back now. Her ex had commented more than once on the poor quality of her sauces. She knew she just never could get the mix right. She didn’t know the first thing about buying the finest ingredients like her sister. She was certain it was one of the reasons he’d suddenly wanted out of her life.
“Why are you crying?” She heard Lanre.
“Its the onions” she replied.
“Sure, hon?” he pressed.
“No, Lanre, am not sure” she blurted. Now she was sobbing full scale.
“Hush! Hush!! What’s up? Talk to me.” He said relieving her of the knife and holding her against his body. ‘God! He always smells nice’ she thought and yet she knew he wouldn’t always be here. She couldn’t have him. He deserved much better. Someone more stable, more homely and dotting.
She eventually pulled herself together and they both got up from their seats on the kitchen floor. He’d simply held her close, saying nothing. How could she have known the storm ragging in his mind? He wanted her so much for the rest of his days, but she just was not the type who cared much for such. She made good on her own. Why would she need him? And after the circumstances that led to his having to call off the engagement to his ex last year, he really didn’t need anymore shots to his heart.
“Okay, you grind, I’ll wash, cut and scoop.” He said assembling the manual blender. She nodded and took it from him. He made small talk as he washed and cut the ingredients. He came over with a bowl of them and started scooping fair amounts into the blender while she did the grinding. She observed him as he chatted away about stuff she wasn’t even bothering to process. He looked so at ease, relaxed and at home. She was about to comment on the make-up stains she had put on his shirt when the blender jammed.
She looked down at it, ‘strange’ she thought. Lanre seemed not to have noticed. She picked up a fork and ran it through the blender’s payload, she tugged a bit and out bounced the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. She was stunned speechless. She turned and looked at Lanre. There he stood with his innocent boyish grin, looking like ‘what did I do?’
“Marry me, Eno” Lanre said, picking the ring off the sink top and slipping it on her finger.
“Yes, Love. I will” she whispered as the tears resumed.