Flakes on water
1016 Words
I was at a fair distance. It was an officer speaking into a Walkie. He was bent over her trying to apply pressure. It was too late. I did it as I learnt in the movies, it was lethal.
If only I could translate this scene to reality. If only it was not illusory. If only it was not all happening in my head.
I smiled cockily as I collected my personal effects and left her there. I felt her eyes on me even as I turned corners. I walked home dejected, sorrow as a soundtrack. All the while thinking of the slaps and the kick on my other man by a woman which made the world stop for a minute. It was as though the balls had run up into my stomach in those moments. I cannot describe the agony I passed through. Rage fuelled me and I hated the female officer afresh. I wished death upon her. This was how bitterness, anger and unforgiveness pushed me into this quagmiric melee I cannot bolt from. I let bitterness fill me.
The TV was still running Discovery World where I had left it. I should have switched channels to Nicolodeon to get her attention arrested. The sitting room laid bare, she was nowhere to be found. The maid was in her room when I called but she was not with her. What must she be busy upending now somewhere in the house? It was no news the toddler was always up to no good whenever she is left on her own, unattended and silently operating in the house. As long as she was not asleep and with you within sight range, we were very skeptical and cautious of her dealings. Even with you right there, she was trouble. Imagine when out of sight. She was way smarter than herself, bubbly and leaves trouble in her wake.
We checked the house till it was my rooms turn yet she was not there. We were about leaving when I heart gurgling and swooshing sounds, activities of water, from my bathroom. I instantly drew to mind I had filled the bathtub with warm water before going out that evening. It was a typical cold Jos evening and a warm bath was ideally on the menu. I was stone scared to the death. This craftiness of a quality in this child has finally overpowered her. Could she have in her busybody fallen into the tub? She was drowning. Is she drowning? Could she have drowned? All in milliseconds these questions poked at us.
Who would be held responsible if she dies drowned? The maid or me? Of a norm, the maid was directly responsible for her but naturally by virtue of my being older and a blood relative, all fingers would point my way, maybe silently. But I know my step-sister – she is far from one who keeps her feelings and thoughts bottled up – she was not one, especially in the face of this brazen nonchalance of mine. The fact that I had left a bathtub filled to the brim unattended would surely raise damning questions and give employ to conspiracy theorists, given we were only of same paternity. I was in deep s**t, this was a smudge on my person and who knows how long it will last. If I had just stayed indoors and bathed! No, If only I never encountered those filthy cops. I feared the worst as I hated officer Hailie the more.
We rushed in.
I was beaten. She turned and gave me that knowing look of someone who knows what you know and claim monopoly to. The water was like flakes of snow had settled on it; pure white snow, muddled up in bits like cornflakes. Only they were papers, my credentials. Unlike the great Titanic my heart sank in that instant. I had dropped the file on the small bookshelf by the headboard.
It would have been meager to swallow were they just only the copies I made. Both my original credentials were sailing like a Viking ship on this sea. She had them all soused. All I’ve ever worked for from Primary till Bachelors. My First Class degree certificate! My National Youth Service Corps discharge certificate! All my certificates and awards, none was left out. All of this culminated in a burst of very hot air in my chest region. My village people were actively sticking needles in my arteries on the doll they have of me and it was fatal. If they have won me, whoever must have freely offered herself as their willing vessel was going to pay sorely for it. I should have fainted but no! I lost it.
I dragged her to the sitting room and gave her the beating of her life. Her small body notwithstanding, I beat her like I was fighting my mate, propelled by the already installed anger from the rendezvous with the police earlier, while the maid tried salvaging what was gone already.
I beat her to the extent she gasped for air – to a pulp. She opened her mouth wide but no sound came forth. I continued till I gave up, I could have gone on and on had I not realized I was only flogging a dead horse; the deed had already been done. They were gone for good - bad - all mashed up. I had lost it all.
She stood, wailing like she had just been widowed. It enraged me the more as anger and hate enveloped me watching her shed crocodile tears. I was not in a right frame of mind, I saw her as a wicked adult, nothing less. I despised her the more each second. She ran to me, I pushed her away. She came again; I pushed her away, violently this time.
You who just rendered me useless, taking away my bargaining powers, robbed me of my academic and social accolades, are snuggling up to me for comfort. How self serving. I became subservient to the inclinations of my rage.
- Writer
