CHAPTER 12
Clouds
were gradually vanishing and stars gaining slim access onto the vast blue
canopy over our universe, ornamental matter-of-factly. The rain was receding
and also the raging ocean. Ayeku was dead silent and time had exceeded 11 O’clock. The rumbling of the sky
and lightening, fair now, in the blue sky were repeated action of nature.
Nevertheless, the rumble overrode every snore from those houses in Ayeku.
His
knees astride her frame, his left fingers clamping the right ones and his palm
ball he frantically pressed against her cleavage, he was struggling to sneak
her from death, though trembling. For been ever opportune to rescue this
goddess he made hard press on her graceful front. After a brief jerks on her
front, he would tightly close her nose between his right forefinger and thumb,
lock his trembling lips to hers and his throat passed reviving air into her so
her lung can gush out the liquid
obstacle in it.
In
this task, he exerted, If she dies, I
shall die too. She is the only hope for my living.
She
lay under him stack naked and still unconscious like a wreck of an ancient
craft. She was that maiden he had seen in two different occasions and had
rescued him from his impotency. The ocean wave had stripped her of her
clothing.
Lying
there under him her tempting frame was graceful. Her bosom was apparently
stunning. Her hair was nicely plaited with rows of narrow scalps, lining every
plait of her cornrows, ably
reflecting the sparkling stars hanging in the blessed sky. She has a chocolate
silken skin, as mild as fairest dew on a waking leaf. She was indeed typical an
African beauty. Her nose was moderate in making and cheeks were that of the
queen of the coast. Her lips were also moderate and supple. Even the passive air that kisses them enjoys them.
All
these goddess-like features made him twitched over her and fumbled twice or
thrice rescuing her. She still lay there seemed lifeless. He must not report to
Mama his impotency to repay the good this maiden had done him if he did not
save her life. It would be coward of him if he failed and Olujimi hears about
it, too. Then what about Mbatu? He would soon leave Ayeku and it would be
unkind of him if he never saw this goddess before he leaves. If
she is actually a goddess, immortal being, she will not die but live. Not
to deceive himself, she was human, in
fact mortal, though possesses some features of goddess.
He
presses harder as though his hands would sink into her heart: harder, harder,
harder…and he locked his lips to hers, pouring into her throat hot breath while
his heart looked shrinking in this activity.
Amazing!
She twitched and vomited salt water mixed with saliva into his throat and he
could not tell how he swallowed it. This
solution tasted better than what taste bud could tell the brain.
Her
eyes fluttered to life. Those eyes, fluttered from unconsciousness as pulse transmitted
through her throbbing forehead, were stately and bloomed like an early rose
caressed by Aurora’s cold palm. Indeed the brightest star in the sky was
appreciative of been opportune to reflect on those adoring eyes. She was indeed
a typical model of beauty.
Atop
her was a man, panting heavily and his face explained the highest degree of
nervousness. This man she had never, or might have, seen in her entire life.
Her eyes were also dilated with dread and she vomited another volume of water
again, groaning and panting. She heard him sighed a relief.
‘Oophs!
Mmmm,’ she remarked. She was shivering. ‘I am frightened.’ Her quivering left
hand made for his. ‘I am frightened.’
‘No,
you should not.’ He assured her, still straddling her naked figure.
‘I
am alive!’ she managed to twisted an inch under him and then lift her right
hand to feel her face, neck and bosom. Now, she realized she was uncovered.
Maybe by reflex action, she abruptly applied her arms to conceal her chest. Her
eyes dilated wider, she startled less than being shock. Her breath rate
increased.
‘Oh!’
He quickly remarked. ‘I am sorry. I shall…’ The maiden was still shocked.
Hence, he drifted away from her quickly and looked around for something to
conceal her bare frame. Then he remembered the net. He found it some yards away
and brought it, the fishes falling off it. With quivering hands he offered her it,
‘Thiss…thiss will…will do.’ Would do indeed?
Without
word, she snatched it from him and wrapped herself up in it. Somewhat, her nude
figure was still apparent behind it.
‘I
amm sorry…ry–’ He endeavoured to apologize.
‘Oh,
no! Oh, no!’ She made a wane smile, her cheeks fairly dimpled. ‘You saved my
life.’
‘Un,
umm…’ He fumbled.
‘I
thought I was dead.’
‘You
cannot, maiden. You cannot.’ Yes she
couldn’t. She was just a heroine to him and he would not watch her die like
that.
‘Thank
you for saving my life.’ She quickly made him a warm hug, her body smelling
fish.
Even
though, the weather was cold his blood became extremely warm in the interface
with her and he was lost in her arms,
dissolving into her. He seemed to lose all his breath and sound as he had her
bosom pressing into his hairy bare chest. Taiwo once said of them being as cold
as morning dew of harmattan, yet he was hot.
Now the dog was making staccato sound to
proclaim its presence or protest their negligence of it. So, she refrained her
arms from him, bent slightly, ruffled her hand through its fur and remarked in
appreciative tone, ‘Thank you, thank you very much.’
‘Is
this your dog?’ He managed a confidence to ask.
She
stood up and looked straight into his eyes. Bade managed to turn his eyes away
from hers. Those eyes overwhelmed them. She indeed has flawless lips which
gracefully allowed ‘Em, not really mine. She was stranded and I helped her’
slipped over them.
‘You
are a nice lady.’
‘Thank
you. You are a nice man, too, nicer if you will permit me to say.’
‘Thank
you,’ He added, ‘Do you, em…do you stay nearby so I might help you home?’
‘I
am a…’ Her legs, like silvery pillars upon which her trunk is erected, or his
evolving world, fumbled and gave way.
Half
way to thud on the coarse sand, Bade lunched and caught her.
She
fell limply into his arms, making moan through which the ripples of her
weakness streamed into his being. Her weakness was significant. ‘I am weak,’
she said. Her eyes were fixed on his – quite captivating – and she made an
engaging smile that revealed better an exuberant weakness that overwhelmed her
face. They exchanged breath, so closely, that fondled their cheeks with sudden
emotion absurd somewhat. Bade maintained this posture with her, holding her
half way down, for about a minute in endless moment.
‘Yes,
you are. You will have a place to rest tonight.’
‘Your
house?’
‘Em,
yes, mmm,’
‘Thank
you, thank you very much.’
Bode
gradually rose up, erecting her on her feet on the ground and declared, ‘You
will have to walk.’
‘I
shall faint if I do.’ Her legs wobbled again.
‘Oh,
I will carry you.’
‘Thank,
em-em, you.’
He
carried her on his arms, her head burrowed on his chest and arms around his
neck, and he could hear the ileke around
her hips jingled as he heads home. The dog was trotting behind him still making
staccato sound. ‘Relax, lady. Everything will be all right.’ He remarks consoling
her. She could only groaned her
rejoinder. Then both of them were silent and she shortly slept in his arms. Bade
was pondering where he should lay her head tonight. Where would I lay her tonight? In Mama’s room? No! In one of the
rooms? No. they are unkempt and it wouldn’t be befitting. What about his
room? Yes, she will sleep in my room and
the dog will sleep in the passage. I believe it will not disturb Mama.
Would it? No, it won’t.
The
old woman might have been worried about him, but having the knowledge of his
absolute healing she would have gone to bed and slept.
About
a score meters home he became aware the dog has vanished. To this awareness, the
maiden’s voice re-echoed in his mind: ‘She was stranded and I helped her.’ No,
it was astray. It was its nature.
Having
silenced his creaky door as he cautiously opened it, not to disturb Mama, he
entered his room with her and as gently as possible laid her in his bed. With
her in the room it became of more grandeur.
He
rose, and as he was about to make for a tea bag on a stool in a corner of his
room, so that he might make a hot tea for her and make her warm, he heard her
voice from behind more tender and sensual:
‘Will
you leave me here alone…I am afraid.’
‘I
want to get you hot drink to keep you warm.’
‘No,
no, I don’t need that. Stay close to me and I will be warm.’
‘I…I
also want to get you a dress.’
‘Or
you want to leave me alone here because I am a stranger?’
‘No,
no, I wouldn’t do…do that.’
‘Please
stay close to me so I might find warmth in your arms.’
‘But
I…’
Good
morning.
On
every individual inhabiting in Ayeku the sun rose and or, upon the world
altogether. In its imperial appearance it was apparent of hope and nothing
stood on its path.
Good
morning.
The
sun conquered the dark and stripped naked our universe; the beauty behind its
erstwhile dark cloth was revealed.
Good
morning.
There
was no dark place nor deep shadow for evil doers to hide under the magnanimity
of the woken sun.
Good
morning.
It
was a beautiful Friday morning. The morning was gracious. If it were its
intention to withdraw its spirit and breath all mankind would perish and would
return to dust…dust to dust.
Good
morning.
Every
moment we wake, every first glance at the sphere we inhabit, is a cogent reason
to live, because the moment we close our eyes in conclusion of existence, all
we have ever lived and struggle for will close up into vacuum. After heeding
the call of the realm beyond, we only have our deeds behind speaking for us.
Good
morning.
Bade
rose from the right side of the bed. He did not wake up that early this
morning. The sun ray flushed through his window bathed him. However, the maiden
was no more there in his room although left a trace – a bloodstain on his bed
mattress. He asked his neighbours if they helped him see her but their
responses weren’t helpful. He asked Mama but she had not seen her. To appease Mama’s
curiosity he related the last night experience to her…
She
was cold. She needed to be warm and hot tea wouldn’t do, probably hot air of
his nostrils would do. That would be better. He was afraid using himself to
make her warm. That tragic incident was harsh on her yet couldn’t inflict her
gorgeous vigour . Sure a true beauty is seen in a bright skin although scorched
by harsh sun of life, but in her case tormented by death. In fact she was a
beauty!
He
managed to even perch on the edge of his own bed, the presence of this
faultless figure in his bed oppressing him, yet feeling her warm breath
caressing his back which splugged warmness into him. Hence, he felt discomfort
darting around him in his own room, in his own bed; he would excuse himself,
having felt the room was fairly dark.
‘This
place is dark. I should light the lantern.’
‘Oh,
un…’ That was sensual indeed.
Bade
made for the lantern and the box of matches, stroke a match and shortly the
lantern glowed, revealing the hidden reality of life he had never felt since
birth. This illuminated the whole room, the beautifully painted room. Then the
artwork came to sight from the painted wall. Embarrassed, he blamed himself, I shouldn’t have lighted the room…
Her
voice tender and wane came from behind, ‘I love that picture.’
As
he looked back his eyes met astonishment on her face.
In
amazement she said, ‘That looks like me.’
‘Yes,
em, uh–’ He wanted to give an excuse. He chewed a side of his lower lip, blamed
himself the more for lightening the lantern.
‘I
look so beautiful there. I love it. May I see it.’
‘Un,’
She
started with her left leg towards the floor to make for it but Bade abruptly
retorted, ‘Oh, no, don’t worry. I will bring it to you.’
‘Oh,
thank you.’ She retreated into bed.
Bade
removed the picture from the wall and headed to her, and with his uncalculated
movement he ascertained, that figure in
the frame is not a perfect match of her. She was more beautiful than that.
He cautiously handed it over to her.
She
gazed at it and dimpled her cheeks with tenacious smile. Was that smile to mock
him? Did she make it because she was aware that her nude contour in the
painting had been a titillation to him which had made him surmount his titanic
plight uncommon to man?
Somewhat
she smiled; and she remarked, ‘This is lovely, beautiful.’ She placed her right
fingers about her awesome face, quite exciting in the gesture, in the painting
and felt it as though the face actually bore human flesh, and blurted out, ‘So,
I am this beautiful?’
Yes, you are. You are indeed more
beautiful than this.
Bade would say that loud out if he was
on a hilltop, but here was even higher than hilltop. How on earth would he get
the courage to say that here when her presence was engulfing him? He was dumb towering
over her.
‘How
did you get to draw this?’ She asked, her inquiring eyes fixed on his.
‘Em,
un, I – I wasn’t the one wwho drew it.’ He really fumbled. It would be disastrous
to tell her he was secretly watching her taking bath nude, here-and-there.
‘He
must be a great artist.’ She added with wink, ‘He must be a man of great
talent?’
‘Yes,
mmm…’
She
looked at the artwork again and declared, ‘It’s a great work.’ Her voice
emanated from her sensual lips, in the same gravity with her amazement.
He
felt its heat in his bone. ‘Thank, em, you, but I am sorry–’
‘Oh,
no, save your sweat.’ She gave the artwork back to him and he returned it to
its position on the wall, then went back to the edge of the bed.
Good
morning.
A
lone star, efficient in the day, gave its light and heat.
Good
morning.
The
star peep out behind the cloud and was chasing the shadow of his house and many
other houses in Ayeku towards the west. Nature might call it hide-and-seek
game: while clouds help to hide the houses and sun seek for it.
Good
morning.
This
star hung as though with invisible string of space, over the universe and its
pale base caresses its azure head. In fact, the sky was a pale translucent
blue.
The
glowing figure, reclining on the surface
of our universe, in his irises was oscillating in a modulation that surpasses
human imagination; he was lost in the world with the rich memory of last night,
seldom enriching his countenance with happiness but mostly with guilt as he
reclined on his assembled chair at the verandah.
She
muttered something he faintly heard. This called his attention to her and their
eyes met as he heard her saying, ‘You are a wonderful man.’
He
was becoming more shy and didn’t have the word in the world to reply her. He turned
his eyes away before hers. They overwhelmed them again. Her lips were flawless and the aspect
on her face portrayed… ‘I need you reach into me.’
Olujimi
had met him in this reclining posture at the verandah. Briefly, they had
discussed Taiwo’s health and entered into his room. Olujimi enjoyed the nude
figure in the artwork: it was titillating! He commented, ‘She’s indeed a model
of beauty. Adu mara dan.’ He was
covetous, uh? He added, ‘I pray both of you meet again.’
‘She
slept in here last night.’ Bade announced.
‘Eh…eh?’
He was agape for a second, his eyes broadened with astonishment. ‘You are so
amazing, friend!’
The
maiden was asleep and Bade was drowsy. The maiden was moaning sensually. This
sweet sound, if one might call it so, slapped him in the face: You are a fool! Sleep by her side! Are you
now not a man? By this, he had heat ran down his spine, and he felt he
should do something. At last, he lay beside her.
The
net, still smelling fish, improperly knot about her armpit, atop her bosom was
getting loose, and she still lay there like a bed of roses upon a dewy green
grass, lush and sensational.
Sleeping
there beside her, he was like a sheep lost in a wilderness, bleating for help.
In the weird company of this maiden,
the atmosphere hovering over him absorbed the remaining abnormal fluid of his
predicament in his vein and made it twitched.
If
love was a poison lovers would like to take it and die rather than live without
it in the like of Romeo and Juliet. He
loved this maiden – or was that he lust after her? He would rather taste it,
and if truly was poison, preferably die. However, he shouldn’t do something
tonight because the maiden was defenseless. That would be wickedness.
The
maiden, sound asleep, stirred in the bed and her right arm made for his bare
hairy chest and her groin, soft and melting, also went onto his and sensually
groaned, from which a warm wind emanated from her cute nose met his cold cheek. His iron body melts and
his hair grew spiky; his iron body was transforming to a desired pattern of
lust. He could not believe he was that ductile and malleable. He was not his
whole self, has been dismantled. In the warm feeling of her arms, groin and
breath, he was chilled to the bone. His nerves were endowed with exuberant
strength which was translated to that region in the body where man is truly
man.
The
goddess of lust visited them, greeting
them with a splendour of ethereal ecstasy which could elevate man and woman in
knot from the very deep within to the greatest latitude of imaginary world.†
The
sexual conduct between these rare species swelled the atmosphere beyond the
circumference of their psyche bound in their emotion, both of them having this
experience for the first time.
In
this ethereal bonding, he found deep inside of her the part of him he had never
known, the actual man in him.
At
this point where their souls and bodies were intertwined, they realized the
gravity of lust at the climax of their fleshly connection, through which
earthen sensation networked through their mortal veins into their brain void of
everything but sense of romance.
At
the peak of romance they shred away from interface of keenest emotion between
them like cleaves of dewy leaves bonded for dawning ray.
‘Before
I knew it, I had done it.’
‘That
is great, lovely. You are amazing, friend.’
After
a moment of carnal engagement both of them
lay there in the bed only in the covering of their mortal skins, she confessed
with a look predominant with guilt, ‘And I didn’t want to do it.’
‘It
was good, my lady. You have healed my wound, my being and my soul. You have,
indeed.’
Yes you have. That was the first
time he would do such a thing.
‘How
have i? my virtue…’ she whimpered, couldn’t finish that sentence as tears
dampened her eyes. Then she sat up.
This
also dampened the spirit on his aspect as he saw blood stain in his bed – she
was a virgin. He had defiled a divine purity, desecrated her virtue. He
felt guilty for the sexual exploit of the
poor lady. He had committed the greatest abomination. ‘I am very very sorry. I
didn’t…didn’t–’
‘So,
I wouldn’t have any man to take my hands in marriage?’
‘Oh,
no!’ That was an opportunity to tell her he shall marry her. ‘I shall marry
you. Nothing in this world will stop me from doing so. You are my heroine, my
helper. I shall not live if I do not have you. Don’t you love me?’
‘I
do. I do, but–’
Having
sat up, he shifted less than an inch to her and as gently as possible his hand
went around her tender waist, few of his fingers stranded on her loins where
pain was grappling more than an hour ago, touching her mildest place: inspiration
of love comes from tender touch only to culminate to bond of lust in which
ethereal instincts of man expire in carnal emotion.
He
declared, his nose touching hers, ‘I shall marry you. I shall give all my
possessions for your bride price. Our marriage shall make history. I shall
spend my last breath for you. We shall be husband and wife and you shall have
children for me. You shall be model of a wife.’
She
blinked her eyes – it was her turn to be shy – and as though in shame or
deliberately, she turned her eyes to avoid his and
asked, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Upon
my life I am absolutely sure. I really mean that.’
She
raised an inquiring brow and a smile was regaining dimples on her cheeks as she
asked for assurance again, ‘Sure?’
He
nodded his assurance. He was confident now and she was shy.
He
drew his hands few inches up her back which glided so politely her silken mild
skin, and then drew her close to his bare chest – flesh to flesh, dust to dust
– and both of them, clamping to each other, retreated sideway into the bed but
there was no immoral influence of lust between them but emotion swelled this
very moment again between them.
‘I
am sorry for that, friend.’
‘Hey,
no! you are such a smart person. If that has not happened you would have lost
her.’
‘And
I have lost her already.’
‘You
haven’t. Your flesh has mixed with hers. That’ll imprint a lasting memory in
her heart. When she could not overcome that, she will come back. You have
touched, indeed, the very crucial part of her being. That has subdued her.’
‘Olujimi,
that was a rape.’
‘That
is where you are making mistake. Her groin was upon yours and you were
aroused…’
‘…and
she yielded to you. She needed to be warm and you helped her to be.
‘So,’
She placed her right hand upon his shoulder. ‘Look straight into my eyes.’
Bade
did.
‘Look,
I am a woman and I could feel her emotion. That emotion is common to all women
when a man has mildly touched their lives. She needed it, pretended as if
asleep and placed her groin on yours. My child, ask yourself, when you made
your hand for her bosom and she opened her eyes, why didn’t she push you away,
screamed out and run away?
‘Un,
she was cold and needed to be warm, and there was a man to rescue her, as you have
done in the first place. Only you could have done that.
‘And
besides, yes, um, yes, you saved her life. You are her hero. She might not have anything in this world to compensate
you for that than to offer you what you would appreciate and she would also,
although she pretended as not. My child, no one would have offered you that
than her: that is blessedness of the gods.’
‘But,
Mama, I couldn’t ask about her, even her name, in the spell of last night.’
‘Just
relax, my child. You think you have lost her?’
He
nodded, tentatively.
‘No,
you haven’t, my child. You will both meet again. You have made a lasting wound
in her virtue and you are the only cure to it. Relax, so’gbo, she will make for you. Hence, both of you will marry.’
This
final sentence induced his face with smile. That was what the old woman loved
to see – a smile – in the aspect of her grandchild. Happiness and enthusiasm
made him more handsome. She retreated her hand and also smiled, her cheeks
wrinkled the more. She had just helped his conscience: for when truth is lost
conscience is in void for only truth can nurture conscience.
The
breasts of this old woman couldn’t nurse, impotent of his mother’s milk,
withered and lacked vigour, yet her word could nurse this very orphan – a sole
benefactor of this blessedness. Elders will nurse the young ones with wisdom
and knowledge engrafted in their words.
