The Wife ESCAPED!

CHAPTER NINE



“Mama!”, Dora called as she marched into the large parlour of her parents’ house.

“Papa! Who’s at home?”, she shouted again as she heard no response.

“Who’s that shouting like a mad person in my house?”, Rebecca asked as she came down the stairs.

“Mama, what’s this I’m hearing?”, she asked as she marched over to meet her mother.

“Is that your new style of greeting?”

“Good Morning, Mama. Where’s Timmy?”

“Timmy has gone to Lagos. Why do you ask?”, she sighed as she took her seat on a sofa, but her eldest daughter remained standing.

“He called me yesterday, saying that he’s being maltreated and beaten wherever it is that you sent…”

“And so?”

“Eh?”, Dora was shell shocked. “Mama, I’m talking of Timmy o. Your son, your only son… my brother.”

“And I said, ‘And so?'”

“I… Wh… I don’t understand. But…”

“But what? Did you ask him what he did to earn the slap he received?”

“But Mama, no matter what he did, he’s still your son na. You can’t send him to another person’s house to be maltreated!”

“Will you shut up! Were you the one that impregnated me with the sperm that formed him? Chor chor chor chor chor chor chor, you run your mouth like a grinding machine without knowing what’s going on. Timothy was insulting a man old enough to be his uncle, calling him names and threatening to send him to jail for life. The man called me immediately. I was even hearing the shouts of your stupid brother in the background.”

“Ehh..,” Dora hesitated, scratching her hair and shifting from one foot to the other. “But Mama, you…”

“But nothing! We were the ones that sent him there to learn a real way of life. Since he doesn’t have any fear for us, he will see somebody that will make him fear. It is for his own good. If he grows up like this, you’ll regret ever having such a brother. He’s my son. I want to protect him, but I also want him to be useful to the society. You cannot love him more than I who gave birth to him. So, as you marched in here, what did you intend to do? Fight me?”

“Ah no o, Mama. I just… em… since it’s just a misunderstanding, I’m very sorry. It will never happen again.”

“It better not. So how’s your husband?”

“He’s fine, ma. In fact, I have to go and pick him up right now. He’s waiting for…”

“So you left your husband waiting and came all the way here for such a stupid reason?”

“Ah Mama, it’s the power of a sister’s love na. Anyway, I called you and Papa several times, but your lines were switched off. Let me be going, Mama. Take care. Greet Papa for me. And please, don’t tell him why I came.”

“No problem,” Rebecca smiled in understanding. “Your secret is safe with me.”

*****

Timmy was just dozing off when his phone rang. He jerked to ‘alert and awake’ mode and squinted at the screen. Dora! Oh, Donuts was in trouble. The police must already be on their way.

“Hello sis, h…”

“Timmy, don’t talk. Just listen to me.”

“Listening,” Timmy replied, thinking she was going to walk him through the escape procedures she must have gotten from the police chief.

“Mom has told me everything. You sent me to make a big fool of myself. I was lucky that Dad did not meet me, I would have fallen into hot soup. Like I said, Mom has told me everything. You need to calm down and be polite, Timmy. Just be patient. I’m sure that, if you behave well, the man will not maltreat you. Just do what he says, it’s for your own good. I love you, Timmy. Please be a good boy. Bye.”

And the connection was cut off. Timmy stared open-mouthed at the phone as if it wasn’t his. Why on earth was everyone turning against him? What did he do to deserve all this? As he was about to burst into real tears, he suddenly remembered his last option: Tracy! She was the firecracker of the family. The fearless and defiant one. If anyone could help him, it was Trace.

He speed-dialed her and breathed a huge sigh of relief as it began to ring. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hello,” a sharp voice greeted his ears.

“Yo, Trace. How you doing? I…”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s me, Timmy Cool, your brother. I…”

“Oh Timmy. How are you?”

“I ain’t fine, sis.”

“Why? What happened?”

Then he proceeded to narrate his ordeal of the last 48 hours. But he had hardly gone halfway through his story when his elder sister interrupted him.

“Look look look, Timmy. I don’t have time to solve anybody’s problems now. Do you know what I’m passing through here in school? Who’ll solve my own problems? I don’t even blame you sef. Since you’re the last born and the only son, and you did not even school in Nigeria sef, you can never understand my problems. Ever since that wicked father of yours banned me from pocket money for two months, life has not been easy for me. If you know how much I’m owing for only hair and shoes, you’ll pity me and you’ll never bother me for anything. Just try to solve your problems by yourself. If they beat you, beat them back and it will balance. Bye bye.”

The connection ended and this time, Timmy threw the phone away and started kicking about like a little child whose toy had been taken from him.

“Oga Americana, you don make your call finish?”, asked one of the boys, Henry, as he walked up to see Timmy putting up a show fit for the theatre. “Which one you dey dance like lizard wey fall inside hot oil? Anyway, Oga say make you join us go carry load from warehouse.”

“What!”

“Come, you think say here na America? Oga say make you follow us. You… come… follow… join us… carry… load… from warehouse… to store. You hear?”, he shouted as if he was talking to a half deaf simpleton.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck,” Timmy moaned, bursting into fresh tears. “Just see what ma own family’s doing to me! Oh God, where are you?”

“Jehovah,” Henry blurted, staring at the crying boy in wonder. “From where dem for bring this one? No be Yaba Left this one suppose dey? (to Timmy) Hey, look here, we dey go o. You better come now or we go leave you go. If Oga meet you here eh, you are on your own o.”

And then he walked off to join his colleagues with Timmy coming behind him in a peculiar style of reluctance.


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