"Jide, come and help me with the tomato tins, abeg."
Somtoo heard a feminine voice call from, perhaps, the kitchen and it grasped his attention. Who was it? It was oddly familiar and awakened a self-conscious and self-defense sense in him.
Honor exhaled heavily, stood for a moment before he said to him, "come in and make yourself comfortable. And be quick so you can close the door before mosquitoes take advantage."
Somtoo slid off his leather slippers, before he went into the room, head first. He poked his head through first, peering after the door, and that was a mistake, because the scent of stew found its way into his nostrils invasively, and it made his empty stomach rumble and twist painfully. He slowly pushed the door close and got encompassed in Honor's sanctuary. It was mysteriously terse, and sharp and adorned with things that looked ordinary, aesthetic and still strange at the same time. An example was the large thin frameless mirror at the wall opposite the bed, it spanned from the ceiling to the floor, and had a width that Somtoo could almost, but not quite, encompass with his two outstretched arms. Another thing was the light. It was neither a lamp, nor something as fancy as a chandelier, but some sort of SciFi-like, yet simple fluorescent hollow rope or flexible pipe that appeared to contain droplets of fine viscous liquid and tiny bulbs, lining the top of the walls, at the edge where they meet the ceiling. It was bright enough for reading and yet it did not hurt the eyes when gazed upon. The theme color of the room was white, just plain white like a piece of paper. There was no television, but there was a sound system, tall speakers, silver and black, the most complex-looking one Somtoo had ever seen, then there was the closet before the way to the kitchen and then there was the reading table and chair. That was all; neat, clean and stunning white.
"Goo moring."
Somtoo got startled by a shrill tiny voice. So he spun quickly and his attention was caught by the little girl peeping shyly from behind the curtain that exclusively blocked the way to the kitchen. At first sight, Somtoo was enchanted. She had a cute gap between her milk incisors. A very ebony skin that shone in the fluorescent rays, contrasting sharply with Honor's much lighter skin; and she was barely about two years old, carrying half-made coal-black hair.
The feminine voice exploded a lively chuckle from the kitchen, before it said, "Nne, it's 'good evening' at night."
The little girl, after turning to listen to the voice, whipped around quickly and enthusiastically said, "Goo efning"
Her voice and smile were full of life and buoyancy and it warmed Somtoo up as he took the upholstered chair by the table and sat. As soon as he sat down, he sighed and replied, "good evening dear, how are you?"
"Fine!" She shouted and her enthusiasm was conspicuous.
"What is your name?"
"Ify."
"Aw! Ify, I'm Somtoo. Echanté,"
"Eeh?" Befuddled and amused, the little girl giggled and tugged at the curtain as if she danced with it, threatening to pull down the rod pipe that held it up.
"How old are you?" Somtoo asked, friendly.
Ify stopped abruptly, looked thoughtful for a second before she began to count her fingers. She counted the five, looking serious, stopped restarted, stopped again, contemplated and then laughed out loud before she ran away to the kitchen, escaping interrogation and shame.
A moment later, left alone, Somtoo's mind drifted determinately back to the event that transpired in the balcony. Chills ran down his spine and he clasped his hands. He had questions, many of them. They come to mind quickly and got pushed out as soon as they entered, by another question. He would have to organize them.
A second later, the shrill sizzling sound of frying pulled back his attention, and another smell, the smell of thyme and curry and beef, filled his nose. And then that feminine voice came again; "for your mind now, You're macho."
Honor was heard laughing, and it felt so strange to Somtoo's ears, because outside, no one ever saw his eyeballs, his strange, fine greenish eyes that he still suspected were unreal, talk more of hear him talk. He always wore shades and had a boy David, a personal assistant, presumably; or Skillz; do all his talking and bargaining for him. But then here he was, being all human, talking, laughing, naked almost.
He heard more chuckles, more giggles, even from the taunting feminine voice and the little girl and could not help but wonder what went on in there. But then immediately, the curtain moved and Honor appeared with a tray in hand and Ify, who held the tip of his briefs, trailing behind him as if hiding -- hiding from interrogation and shame.
"So, you have met my daughter, Ify." Honor said and placed the tray, containing a chilled bottle of Coca cola and a glass cup, on the table next to Somtoo. "While the food gets done, help yourself with some energy booster and mind stimulating caffeine." He said, walked to and plopped down on his bed.
"Thank you." Somtoo said and did not waste time to pick up the drink, while at the same time juggling some more questions. His daughter? What the...
"By the way, Her name is Ifunanya. Not Ifeoma, not Ifeyinwa, but you can call her Ify anyway." Honor said.
Somtoo gulped down some of the drink in a hurry before he slowed, swallowed and then stopped, moaned softly and sighed. He opened his eyes and then focused on Honor who just stared at him with that smirk that seemed plastered to his face. His heart pounded.
"So, Somtoo, You've been standing on my door, knocking for almost half an hour." He said softly, while Ify picked up a pen from the bed, took his hand and began to draw on his palm. "What do you want from me?"
Somtoo cringed momentarily at the sound of his name coming from Honor's lips. He inhaled and held his breath. "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"
'You can ask me anything and I will answer you."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
Somtoo squinted and contemplated. It doesn't make sense. "But you have always been so em . . . confidential . . . you know. Why would you just meet me, you don't know me and then you can just tell me anything. Everything you have kept secret. Why?"
"I can't say I'm hundred percent sure, but I know you to a reasonable extent." Honor adjusted his hand for Ify to get better use of it. "I know you want what I have, you want what I can offer you, what you can gain, a lot more than gossiping about things I tell you about myself."
"What if you're wrong?"
"It's kind of hard to mistake an idiot for an ambitious folk such as myself. But if I'm wrong, there is of course preparations made for such contingencies. You're not an . . . Icon. You have never had people who want to listen to anything you have to say in this campus. You are far out of the gossip circle, and even if you somehow managed to get people to listen to you, it's your word against mine. People like having idols, and will just turn on you if you dared say anything against the idol they so sentimentally cherish. You will be labeled 'blasphemous,' and will be socially stoned and torched to death."
By the time Honor was done, he winked and Somtoo's jaw dropped. For a moment he felt breathless and . . . well he just sat there.
"Anymore questions?" Honor asked.
Somtoo managed to exhale, and then take a sip of Coke. "Well uh, where do I star-" he belched. "Sorry. Excuse me."
Honor smiled and waited for a second before he said, "Look, Somtoo, about five months ago, I decided that I need to replace David. You know him, right? The awfully irritating guy."
"Your . . . P.A? Yes."
Honor chuckled. "Yes, him. Dude is funny and energetic, and I enjoy his company, no doubt, but he proves incompetent in many situations, especially situations where he has to choose between ambition and few fleeting momentary moments of fame. He would leak a confidential information to a girl just to get her attention and get the chance to take her home or whatever. So -- for about a month and half for the first month, I searched for a possible replacement and decided you are perfect. And since then, I've studied you."
"Hold on. Hold on." Somtoo demanded. "What?"
"I know a lot about you that you don't know about you, especially things you refuse to admit to yourself. Like your feelings for Annabelle; your fear of Ebose, the girl from Geology department you had a fallout with in the queue during freshers' clearance; and the fact that you can't fall asleep in a dark room."
"What the..." Somtoo leaned back on his chair and stared at the rim of the bottle of coke in his hand with furrowed eyebrows. He squinted and the gear in his mind worked to decipher how Honor must have gotten these information."
"Oh, and I've seen some of your poems." Honor straightened. "They are good, powerful stuff, I think, I don't know. You should publish them online at least, not keep them hidden in a dusty manuscript."
Again, Somtoo realized that his jaw was dropped, but right then, that was the least of his troubles. He tilted his head also, and observed Honor. It was beginning to piss him off. His poems were personal and too -- unclad, intimate. "How the hell do you know these things?"
Honor chuckled proudly. "I pay attention."
Somtoo began to tap his foot impatiently.
"People usually flaw themselves, weaken and make themselves exposed and vulnerable to a lot of things because they talk a lot more than they listen. Note that. Which ever way you look, you see two or more persons arguing about something, and the funny thing is; they are not raising their voices with the aim of drawing a logical conclusion, or coming to a mutual understanding. No! they just want to speak their own crude mind and not even listen to gain from other person's views, to refine themselves. In so doing, people, don't grow, but it's worse than that. People drop too many information about themselves and others, and it gives anyone who cares to pay attention enough power, enough weaponry to not only grow immensely, but also to break and destroy anyone or at least control them." He smirked. "Get it?"
"I . . . think so, but..."
"People talk too much and I listen too much. That's it." Honor said and sighed. "Somtoo, I don't want to waste time with this, okay? Listen, in exchange for working for me. I will provide your accommodation, and your allowance in an adequate measure. Knowing the current state of your bank account, I trust you feel this is a good deal."
"How do you know my bank account details."
"I don't. I just know you've been standing alone and sad in a public balcony for hours, waiting desperately for Iyke, who you know tricked you with the going to ATM thing." He stated. "If you had other choice, like money in your bank account, then why be so desperate?"
The question was rhetorical, and Somtoo knew, so he just stayed quiet. There was no argument there.
"So," Honor started serious again. "Fifteen thousand a month?"
Somtoo's eyes shot open and every thought, every worry, he contemplated vanished. He was right, the deal sounded good to him, but... He held back the smile that was about to form on his face. Money is good, quite good actually, but it was not enough. His priority had changed. He did not stand tormented at the door for almost thirty minutes, hungry and perched, just to get his bills footed. He needed more than money; he needed the cheat for playing game of thrones.
"No!" He answered, and his heartbeat rose nervously.
Honor's eyes squinted and he leaned forward to observe Somtoo meticulously. Making him even more nervous. "No what?"
"I want more than just money." Somtoo said and swallowed. "I want answers. I want - I want to be like you. I want to listen and learn and know what you know." He sipped the last drop of the Coke, dropped the bottle and put on a more serious business face. "I'm going to assist you well, very well. I swear, I will do anything." He bit the tip of his index finger and raised it to the air to declare solemn honesty and commitment.
Honor chuckled and leaned back in a much more relaxed manner. "Believe it or not-" he began to say. "I was like . . . eighty percent sure you'd say this exact thing." He cackled, and this time it sounded ominous. "That's why I've made a call and asked someone to fix up the room opposite across the hall, and put a nightlight in it."
Somtoo was taken aback, almost a cringe. The sizzling sound of boiling oil came again, and then the clangs and crash noise of falling cutlery came from the kitchen. Both their heads whipped to the direction of the sound.
"Break it o." Honor shouted jestfully to the female in the kitchen. "Break all my stuffs. You hear me?"
"Yes o." The female replied. "I will. I've already started."
Honor laughed again and moved his feet over the tiles. It still made Somtoo uncomfortable how he appears so ominous at one moment and then completely ordinary the next. This time, Ify was obviously tired, so she placed her head on Honor's left thigh and struggled with the sleep angel for the control of her eyelids.
"Don't you think you should take a break and come say hi to my new PRO?" Honor shouted to the female in the kitchen.
"Abeg, abeg. I'm busy." She replied rudely. "Besides, I don't want to see any nonsensical person."
Honor did not seem to mind her attitude. He found her very amusing, obviously, but her shrill voice and facelessness taunted Somtoo the longer he stayed and wondered who she was and why she gave him and eerie odd feeling.
"Sorry, can I ask you something?" Somtoo called for Honor's attention in a subdued tone, almost a whisper.
"Shoot."
"Is she...?" He pointed to the curtain, to the kitchen. "Are you . . . married?"
"To her?" Honor shook his head with a smile. "Over my dead body." He answered and reduced his voice to say, "I fear she'd stab me in my sleep one night. Besides I'm still enjoying my early twenties."
"Oh! Okay."
"And yes, we have a child, but Ify is adopted. My friend had her without a father, and then she died, at the hospital."
"Ooh!" Somtoo interjected with a smile. "That explains a lot."
"Ebose helps me raise her. She's the Mama and I'm the Papa." He stated proudly, stroking Ify's hair.
A chill ran down Somtoo's spine. Ebose? Ebose? The scary geology girl that had traumatized him? Oh no. Must be another.
A hand moved the curtain, and from behind it emerged that known cute petite figure. A young lady, his age, that looked much smaller and younger, who with words had completely destroyed and emasculated him that day at the administration block, just because he had bumped into her while she stood and wrote on a form paper, causing her arm to shift and trace a parabolic line across the paper. She had told him one thing he never forgot; that his faced looked like under her shoe, and she had raised her foot so he could see the ragged lines of her damaged old and dirty shoe sole, which according to her, resembled his face.
"You!" Somtoo exclaimed, pointing and frozen as if catatonic.
"Ugly Face," She replied, "How far?" Before she turned to Honor and said, "I've finished o. Don't expect me to come and serve you as well."
"Finally. Well done ma." Honor replied sarcastically. "You're so fast in cooking ehn." He said and mock-clapped.
"Abegi." She hissed, shook her head and disappeared again behind the curtain.
Honor laughed and turned back to Somtoo. "Don't mind her. She's all bark and no bite."
Struggling to control his nervous breathing, Somtoo nodded. "Alright. Well, I think I should get going."
"Ah ahn?" Honor interjected. "You won't eat now the food is ready?"
He shook his head frantically and this amused Honor. "No." He answered. "I need to get going."
Honor could see from his face that even if he would have liked to eat, learning of Ebose's presence had really rattled him, and he would not dare eat what she cooked. So he said, "Okay." Lifted Ify's head gently, removed his thigh from underneath and then placed it on the bed softly, but she got awoken and alert anyway. Frowning, honor got on his feet.
Somtoo sat up immediately, walked to the door and waited as honor unlocked it. The door swung open, but as soon as Somtoo was about to step through, he paused, turned around and said; "Um before I go . . . could you tell me how you predicted those things when we were at the balcony? Why I looked at the moon? Why my hand shook when I was about to knock?"
Honor smirked and said, "Tendencies." And that was all. He just looked on at Somtoo with smirk on his lips.
"That's it?"
Honor dropped his head and sighed tiredly, before he straightened and said; "look at this." He turned to his daughter. "Ify." He called, and on getting her tired attention, he faked a big yawn, with outstretched arms and all, so it was loud and showy. Then he spun back to face Somtoo, and began to count down in seconds interval; "5, 4, 3, 2..."
Ify yawned, and hers was for real. She stretched her body and even quaked.
'See?" Honor said. "It's not magic."
Somtoo's eyes narrowed, but then Ebose walked in from the kitchen and was also yawning. And so this time, his eyes shot open.
"You will yawn too." Honor told him. "You just haven't, yet, because you're paying attention to it actively. Later, when it comes to your mind passively, a yawn will be triggered. Basically, we, humans, have tendencies that develop into what we know as habits and even addictions, but they usually thrive subconsciously. Some people, when they get nervous, they start biting their nails. So, if I find such a person at a nervous state and tell the person that he or she would bite their nail in less than five minutes, it would happen and you'd think me to be a seer. You on the other hand, like many, have a tendency, a habit that is triggered by going deep in thoughts. When you're contemplating, you tend to look at a distant object, and for a moment it gives your mind the chance to clarify your thoughts, and since there is full moon tonight, it became your distant object. I didn't just foresee it. I had observed the tendency four times before, that as I talked, I had almost all your undivided attention. You only looked away and at the moon momentarily when you want to reason something I say. So I didn't predict your future. I only saw a repetition tendencies."
"Wow!"
"It becomes less magical when explained right?"
Somtoo let out a nervous chuckle, and nodded.
"That's disillusionment happening, the danger of over familiarity, the reason why God is mysterious and unexplained, the reason why I stay confidential and the reason why airing your opinion or talking about yourself too much leaves you vulnerable." He said, sadly, more to himself than to Somtoo.
Somtoo squinted and contemplated. "Oh - Kay?"
"Yes. And about your hand shaking when you wanted to knock: it was already shaking, due to shivers and tiredness, I guess; but your mind did not pay attention to it because it was not important, but when you got to the time I predicted that it will happen, you simply raised your hand and then allowed your mind at that moment to notice it. Also, you got nervous, of course; and anyone shakes when they get nervous . . . and by the way, you just yawned. Did you notice?"
Somtoo was engrossed in his explanations, and he was loving it, until his last sentence jolted him. And so he then self-consciously analyzed himself. Honor was right. He had yawned, and had the trace of tears in his eyes to testify to that. For some reason, he blushed and bowed shyly; and at that moment he became, not just a believer -- but a disciple. He grinned.
"You're cute." Honor said, a little superciliously with an arched eyebrow. "We will start with Annabelle."
"Huh?"
"Panorama Puppeteering 101 - Chasing Annabelle." Honor winked. "Let the games begin -- tomorrow."
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Glossary:
Abeg : This is pidgin, meaning "please," but is often used to express rude attitude in speech.