Rose
"I warned you about this, didn't I?"
I replayed what happened to me and Gibson at the prom yesterday.
What I did felt right until I sat for counselling on Miss Beatrice's custody.
We were on the small porch of our house; my head was faced down while she kept ranting about yesterday by my side. I sat on the slab staring at the neatly cut lawn. The lawn has never been as fascinating as I was in my entire existence. Right now, I didn't want to look at her face.
"That was a very wrong thing to do; imma be real with you; that nigga looks like he's the only one that cared about you even though your dumb ass keeps pushing him away. What the fuck is wrong with you child?" After maintaining a high pitch of tantrum, the last part came out as a whisper.
"I'm sorry."
"Mm-hmm, you're gonna hold that back." She said, holding up her arm, her index finger pointing at me.
"I will be putting out the whole mess you did right now in your face, starting from when you spilled that gentleman vodka on his fine-ass suit and still puked on it." she continued.
"You know you're not supposed to take alcohol, right? At least for obvious reasons, for the fact that your health is at stake."
"I said I'm sorry."
"Hold up, wait a minute." She held up her hands.
"This same guy brought you home when you had passed out, and he was still covered in your vomit. You know what's getting me pissed, baby girl?…it's the fact that you puked on a $700 tuxedo…"
"I said I'm sorry, gosh!" She was slowly getting on my nerves with her continuous banter. The neighbours are probably eavesdropping on us; I went to a party and puked on a rich kid. She doesn't know what it feels like living your life like you were set on a time bomb, set to explode when your expected time has elapsed.
"I'm leaving, I'm sick of the way you and dad treat me like I'm a fucking time bomb."
I stood up from my sitting position, I wanted to leave her presence as fast as possible.
"Hey, watch your tune when you speak…"
"I don't fucking care, alright?" You and Dad aren't the only ones who are allowed to show off their emotions when they please you guys. I can't bottle up mine."
"Ladies, what's going on here?…"
"Get lost." Miss Beatrice and I said in unison; our heads spun to the person behind that voice; we thought it was one of those nosey neighbors that had finally left their Houses, which they eavesdropped from, to come to the main scene.
We were hell ready to leave our argument and pounce on them.
"Oh Dad, you're…you're back?" I let out a harsh breath, trying my best to put on the welcome-dad signature smile
We were too hooked up in our tiff that we didn't know when Dad's truck pulled up at the front of the porch
My Dad looked from me to his sister with a questioning look, the former atmosphere was still dense.
My breathing wasn't steady.
"Rose?"
"Yes, Dad," I replied, picking at the back of the hair that was pulled out without much effort.
"What's going on here?"
"It's nothing, Dad, just some girls' argument, right Miss B?"
I went over to her side to give her a playful hug, swinging my arms around her waist. She understood right away and cooperated immediately.
Telling Dad what happened yesterday would only escalate matters, we would settle our dispute some other time.
When? Never.
He wouldn't know if no one told him.
"He shook his head, he seemed tired and worn out.
"I need some food." He strolled past the door with his toolbox in his right hand
"You're off work so early, what's up?" Miss B asked as we both tailed my Dad into the apartment.
"What else? I have a daughter back home, nothing is more important."
Right?
Miss Beatrice caught me rolling my eyes.
"She's good as you can see?"
"Yeah, I've seen that on the porch already."
He held his toolbox and the keys he brought out from his grease-stained jean pocket to me, placing the key at the top of the toolbox before extending his hands out to me.
"Get this to the basement, would you baby girl?"
"Yes, my love."
"Go get yourself a decent young boyfriend, Rose; leave your old dad for the older ladies."
I heard Miss B say as I went for the assigned errand, I got to my room to take a torchlight with me firstly
The door leading to the stairs of the basement clicked quietly as I opened it, it's the coldest region of the house as it never received sunlight.
Using my torchlight as a light source, I put it on, pointing it downward.
The musty smell of the stairway was very pungent.
Fungi thrived on the walls of the stairs and on the stairs itself.
My footsteps echoed with every step.
I got to the main door of the basement, using the keys Dad gave me to open it up.
There were a lot of keys, so I had to select the perfect one for the basement.
The jingling echoed.
I found the perfect key.
I gently turned the lock, it clicked open.
Inside the basement isn't as bad as you'd expect. Yes, it still had that musty smell but it didn't smell as bad as the stairway.
My dad installed a basement humidifier to control the moisture and make the air in here more conducive.
The inside of the confined space looked very homely. It kind of looked like a junk store. Where he had his auto parts stored on a large office table with a swivel chair in the middle and a brown bean bag chair lying by the corner of the room. It is a four-walled room that has racks attached to the wall on the two opposite sides. The racks were tall, reaching the basement ceiling. From where I stood at the entrance to this room that always had a bit of mystery to me, the opposite wall was empty. Just a big painting of a wolf's head.
I could sleep in here, I hid here a lot often when I'd vexed Dad. It's one of the reasons he was locked here but his biggest reason was because of Morris, the touchy fellow.
I got to the rack where It was usually kept, dropped it, and went back up.
I met Miss B in the kitchen, making lunch for Dad, I guess.
We gave each other that look, that look that had a lot of unspoken words in it.
We were about to talk more about our earlier suspended argument when we were caught off by a knock at the door.
"Are you expecting someone?"