The Irony of Life (22)😔😔

THE IRONY OF LIFE (22)😔😔

Duration: 5mins

Oreoluwa sat dazed. It all felt like a dream.

“Fatima, are you out of your mind?” he asked, keeping his voice down as much as he could so he doesn’t draw the attention of the patrons present. “You’re my friend’s Ex for crying out loud.”

“And so? Did you hear yourself Ore? Ex, you said.  That is, we used to be lovers, we are past, history. Perhaps you should know, I have long broken up with Jamani in mind before he did. I was keeping him close so I could get near to you.”

At that point, Oreoluwa could take the shock no longer.  He rose to his feet.

“Jamani said it.”

“Said what?”

“That you’re deceitful and can’t be trusted.” 

“Not true. I'm sorry Ore,” said Fatima with glistening eyes on the verge of letting down into tears.

That was more like Fatima. Oreoluwa wondered where the boldness and carelessness she exuded earlier came from. It was as though someone had spoken through her up to that point

Whatever.

Before she could say more, he got on his way and was out of the restaurant in no time. 

Oreoluwa normally would have flagged down a taxi to take him to the station where he would board a train home. But that day, his train of thought was so heavy on him he preferred to trek. If someone had told him Fatima had eyes for him, he wouldn’t have believe. Even though he just heard it from the horse's mouth, he still found it hard to.

To imagine I have been going to Cecilia's rival to help woo Cecilia.

He walked past a restaurant and felt like going from one restaurant to another asking if Cecilia worked there till he finds her.

Cecilia

Where could she be?

Someone should know.

Fatima is no option.

He was racking his brain, turning over these thoughts when the dark, chubby lady who was on morning shift the other day came to mind. From the look of things, her and Cecilia were cordial.

When he arrived home and told Jamani the turn out of events, he laughed out loud while 'I told you' was written all over his face.

Oreoluwa managed to live through the seemingly longer night. 

By 9a.m on Monday, he was again at MAC As soon as he walked in, the lady he had come for was the first person he saw. She was attending to a patron. He waited till she was through and walked up to her. She met him with a welcoming smile, ready to take his order till he mentioned he was there to see Cecilia and her countenance took a sudden frown. 

Oreoluwa tried refreshing her memory, told her just three days ago he and his friend were there and she was the one who attended to them. Even went as far as describing the clothes she wore that day if it would lessen the tension in the air. 

But as though she was suffering from grade 1 Amnesia, she could swear she had never seen his face. 

Oreoluwa knew nothing revealing could come from her. However he decided to give it a try, asked where Cecilia resides but met with a brick wall. He further asked where she now worked. As if the lady had been sworn to secrecy, she didn’t know that as well.

She should at least be willing to give Cecilia’s phone number.

So he thought till she went into educating him on how unethical it is to give someone else’s contact to a stranger without first getting the person’s consent. Instead, she wrote down Oreoluwa’s phone number in her notepad and assured she would tell Cecilia about him when next they see or talk on phone. 

Oreoluwa had never been more helpless and dejected. He wished he hadn’t come to the lady. But then he wondered what other option he had. 

He had trekked all the way to the station and was about boarding a train when his phone rang. His mind went to Cecilia.

Could it be the lady has given her my number?

Or it’s only a coincidence.

Hurriedly he fetched his phone.

His face was disappointment personified when the caller turned out to be Fatima. 

With a snap, his finger went for the red dot button. But the tempter wasn’t done with him yet. His phone soon began ringing. This time around, he set any call from Fatima to voicemail, resisting firmly. 

Little did he know he was in for a big one that would get him concluding 

the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.

                                 .***

At Mrs. Penelope’s place on Saturday, Oreoluwa wasn’t his usual cheerful self—no whistling, no singing he just went about his job as though someone died back home. 

Mrs. Penelope noticed and asked if he was alright. He responded in affirmative. 

She pressed in further,

“Do I guess right it has to do with a woman?”

Oreoluwa was surprised, wondered if Mrs. Penelope was a mind-reader, if it was that obvious he was thinking of Cecilia. For about a week now he hadn’t made any headway in his efforts to locate her. This was bothering him he couldn’t hide it.

“If it is, you can always talk to me. No one understands a woman better than a woman. Before you is one highly experienced in matters of the heart,” she Mrs. Penelope as she ascended the stairway that led to her bedroom.

Oreoluwa considered opening up to her but on a second thought, changed his mind.

After he was done working, ordinarily, Mrs. Penelope was an accurate time-keeper she would have shown up from wherever she was in the house to inspect his work and pay him. But this time, she was no where in sight. 

Oreoluwa sat waiting, seconds turned into minutes, minutes into half an hour. 

He barely got two hours sleep from his overnight job at the factory before coming over. He didn’t know when he dozed off. 

A loud sound from a distance broke into his sleep, stirring him awake. His eyes went for the wall clock, he couldn’t believe he had waited for over one hour.

What’s going on?

He wondered as he ascended the stairway till he was standing before Mrs. Penelope’s bedroom. 

He glued his ear to her door but couldn’t pick any sound. Then he knocked.

“Come in.”

He heard from within. 

On opening,

“Jesus!” he exclaimed and froze up.

Oreoluwa was used to seeing Mrs. Penelope move about her house scantily dressed. But this time, she was all bared, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

She was on phone, seated in bed, leaning against the backrest. With one hand, she pulled the bedspread across her breast downward, unfreezing the poor young man. Then she pointed him to some dollars on her bedside cabinet. 

Oreoluwa couldn’t wait to be out of her air. 

Vibrating as though he just caught a flu, he hurried over, grabbed the notes and  was going to flee when he felt two hands clipped him by the waist, followed by a soft whisper from behind,

“Don’t you like what you see?”

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To be continued same time, next week. Hope you enjoyed the read? Please leave a comment. Thank you.

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