The Mystifying Island

No foreigner had ever walked onto this island before but a creepy twiny tale of a sect of human race spread across the surface of the far-away isle never trod on before by mankind. The creatures living in some of these islands are uncategorised; A 559 paged historiography he read for his final exams in the University had laid this astonishing explanation before his bare eyes. Mike Badu opted that only a visit would make him believe the glorious tales created around the land. He spoke to his friend, Hassan, who said his faith would not allow him to be a party in the adventure. He made little efforts for months thereafter, claiming that Hassan was a tremendous discourager of the cause. It seemed his dream was coming closer when his uncle invited him for Christmas and promised him a sail across the peninsula in Lagos that year. Mike was really glad that he would get to achieve just another dream he has always had. Uncle Bade, a sailor with three kids and a wife concurred to a trip which can bring closer every member of the Sheebi family. Mike was bothered about helping out on too many chores when he finally starts spending Christmas at his telepathic uncle's mansion on the island. It would be another dream with a hitch attached to it, he thought. In the middle of his thoughtscape, his phone rang loudly, sending him awake to his lonely world. "Jane," he said. Almost screaming to the speaker "I'm about leaving for a party this evening and I don't have much on me" " No...Just send the cash. I'll head to the bank", he muttered after a long silence. Mike stretched and hopped off the sofa. He longed for the beautiful things to come and hope he could take solace in them after he finally makes his move that evening. 11th Avenue harbours a strange darkness albeit the twinkling stars at their best around the half moon. Around the edge of the cul-de-sac sending traffics on the u-turn situates the brightest building where christmas trees welcome guests as they come. Mike was a youthful guest just like the other little over hundred in the room. So, he waited for older folks to make it in. What a place to be. So he wandered across the bar hoping to get some whisky and maybe some strawberry juice mixed in chocolate cream. He could see himself l*****g his palms once more and savouring a taste which could only be relished for as long as he lived downtown. Hassan will not attend the party. His only childhood friend left in the little town. In those tender years, they grew to become the bravest of all kids in Resole Estate. A testimony was when they both apprehended some peers who stole jewelries from a fashion store when they were in the Senior grade. But as they turned eighteen, there was nothing they shared anymore as Hassan had veered off to his sacrilegious life with his parents who wanted him to become a Cleric once he finished his Islamic studies. Mike would not miss him for thereafter, Jane appeared in the large hall of lights while all in attendance at the party was sent wild by the bassy tune that rented the air from the DJ's gigantic speakers. After being served a rare dish of a plate of steak and a beer, he took out his phone but could not find any message. He grew more worried. He wanted to order for a pair but the urge doused at that moment. Maybe he has just paid for mirage - a brief escort for his beloved Jane. He munched helplessly on the steak and sipped some beer from the can. He would wait eagerly for what to come in appraisal or a show of disappointment she may put up with. At eighteen years old, Mike had hoped he would be very independent, leave his parents and begin his own life somewhere paradisiacal. He must forge ahead no matter what will be thrown at him on his journey there, he had always said to himself. As his worries grew, the music in the large room blared louder. His motions were now undisguised under the room's fluorescence of various colours. The next day, Christmas, was few hours away and the fireworks would soon make up the skies of the city. Celebrating alone without having Jane and Hassan around made little sense. *******************†******************* Jane's house was just about two kilometres from his. Older, she lives alone and works at one of the biggest stationeries shop in town. At the age of twenty-two, she had made enough money to enroll herself in a University without stucking her parents for help. She only calls her parents for courtesy or other times to ask for their needs and get them to them. She sat in front of her mirror in the bedroom alone, admiring herself. She had a black pupil matched with her dark skin- the true beauty of an African. On her lips, subtly moulded on her perfect chin she lined her glossy lipsticks, ready to party with Mike. Though she had the unusual thought of absconding with Mike to the little Island he told her about, she was pricked by the immediate downcast she would bring upon her mother when she finally learnt of her flight. She wanted to kiss her willing boyfriend passionately that night. It was a night she had craved for the past three months since they shared a seat in a train downtown Lagos. It would be their last meeting before his departure. She propped herself against the wall and smiled foolishly at herself for finding someone she has had little time with so attractive. Though she worked for hours in a textile factory, all her earnings had gone into expensive gifts for her boyfriend and parents. 'At least I can afford a house', she had told Clara, her close neighbour whose friendship she cherished so much as well. Clara was always a woman she could confide in when it comes to every aspect of her life; her financial, metal, romantic and family life. Clutching her side bag, she walked to the next house and called out Clara, telling her that she will not be around for the night. Clara smiled and patted her on the shoulder. 'Finally,' she teased. 'He's just a friend,' Jane said, smiling sheepishly 'I know...just be careful' 'I will Clara. You know I have always been'. Clara waved her off, turned, and went back into her house. She wished Jane a very romantic night she would never forget in her lifetime. She was not ready for any contrary adventure, for her sweetness was her pride and the affection which keeps growing between her and Mike was her lofty treasure. Jane's lips turned with smile as she left the cold street to look for Mike. The street light illuminated the bright garden of flowers shielding the aisle at the Jeje's Snacks. The bus that conveyed her there had returned and she was alone under the glimmer of light. Under the maple tree caressing the dark sky in the night light was a maroon car. Though it was a rare occurrence in the country, young graduates like Mark could be found in such ride in the municipal every now and then, down from Resole Estate uphill towards the Council and outskirt of her. When she discovered a tint of gold through the curtained windows, a romantic blood rushed through her veins. She reached for the door and when she turned turned the doorknob, her arms dropped and the twosome actions on the sofa ceased. *******************†******************* After a long tedious day at the supermarket, Clara stopped over at her grandmother's house in Timi Street the next day. She brought with her a basket half-filled with fruits and groceries and the old madam appreciated it. "These were crazy times," She thought as she examined the pulchritudinous interior of the house which had always been rarely untidy. Dusty pairs of shoes were left here and there on the floor of the sitting room begging for some wiping touch. When she coughed, she felt like dusts would fly into her nose from all direction. "I told you to get home service mama," She muttered. " James has travelled," Mama drawled a response with teary eyes. She remembered her lovely old husband always quickly address the home cleaning issue. After 61 years of marriage, she lost him to pneumonia. Before she lost him, she had told him to cease being a globetrotter he had always been since his youthful years because of he was not getting younger but the old man rebuffed every time she states her concern. Clara held Mama's shoulder close to her chest, telling her soothing words. She was the only person who had always done this wilfully. Clara made it a culture years after her graduation from the university baking a cake, inviting relatives and buying gifts for Mama every Christmas. She often calls home service when needed even though the office was some miles from the town- a small green carpet tinselled by two streams on the east and south west and the only source of water there. After Clara was done catering for Mama's attention that evening, she left for home even more exhausted. She phoned Jane who told her that she was with Mike. She hung up and muttered to herself a word that showed disapproval of Jane's recent obsession with her newly found hunk, curling her lips upward in a pout that preached disgust. On the long ride home in a taxi, she caught back what seemed a longer memory. She remembered her naive escapade with Ike in Port Harcourt five months into her National Youth Service year. Ike was a bearded subtle monster, loved by a fair number of female colleagues in their place of primary assignment commonly called PPA. His charm permeated even the hearts of the impenetrable maidens he met. Clara's brief first encounter with him during camping in Port Harcourt was a c***k wide enough for Ike to capitalise on when they were coincidentally assigned to the same institution; the maintenance department at the Ministry of Water Resources. Ike took advantage of her infatuation, flirting with other girls and draining her financially whenever he could. Jane Ugo and Mike Badu's romance was a different kettle of fish. Jane's age, almost twofold Mark's, read an ominous sign for their young relationship. 'Afterall, I had to face the music alone when the Ike began to explore and ditched me in the pool of debts,' Clara jibed at herself and strutted away from the moonlit breezy night into Mike's warm dark apartment after ending the call. Mr Shola appeared just like every other day the next morning in his office an enthusiastic soul. His big brown brogue pounded the floor as he slalomed past two secretaries who were preparing the monthly report for the firm. The secretaries greeted him with the casual hi hi from the corner of their mouths. The news had broke out earlier that morning and the gossip had begun. Her wife the previous night had bumped in on him and a helplessly drunk lady in their apartment. The surface of the floor, slippery as a mudslide coated with ceramics, almost sent Stacy on her backside. When the fracas went louder, Shola flung his arms in all direction, hitting Stacy on her face. Jane almost crept out under the duvet to stop the fight but she remembered such late night arguments between a couple could blare amiss like a stray bullet. She buried her head deeply underneath the heavy sheets once more. Like a stray bullet, she pondered, an outrage in a modest clan as the one she lived amongst was always a blurry eyes at the sight of any relative, neighbour or friend. It could dole a treatment as that meant for an intruder. Jane woke up the next morning feeling exhausted. She felt her forehead as though it was practicable to find where migraine had clogged somewhere there. Mr Shola appeared like a husband who did not even care if the brawl he had with his naggy wife had kept everyone in the neighborhood awake for most of the night. All he wanted on the spot was a quantum of solace somewhere outside his shell which could either have been a sail on the Atlantic with new friends and an aftermath picnic accompanied by an expensive booze. He punched and punched on the keys of the keyboard in his office to look out for the map of a special place worthy of any consideration and he found one with the aid of the GPS; a tiny round plate in the middle of a large basin of water after a sandy stretch across the sandy Atlantic.