JUDA'S KISS
1086 Words
Chapter 2
I was startled. The moment marked exactly six months and five hours since my mother banned me from setting foot in their bedroom or even in the hallway. I have kept the secret that led to that embargo to date. The interlocution that was sparked on that evening still replays in my mind. It was on a national holiday. No work, no school. I had spent a cheerful day with my bestie, Carline at Jeysen’s place. We talked about types of kisses. Jeysen fell asleep, Carline and I had to walk home.
“French kiss is my best,” I remarked.
“Just kissing? What’s that. I want to know the sex.” Screamed Carline.
“Oh my God. That was too loud” I exclaimed.
We laughed. She wanted to hold me by the shoulders. I dashed to the roadside. I stared at her in amusement, laughing uncontrollably. You see, Carline was short. She bore this image of an innocent child. The word ‘s*x’ weighed her down and cut her to size. It was like mentioning drug abuse.
“Seriously?” I paused.
“Seriously!” She cut in.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“Why?”
“s*x is not healthy. It’s a game of mature adults.”
She struck her hair and seemed to recall something. She sighed.
“Wow, I know that look.” I teased.
“Hmmmm, I don’t know if this is necessary.”
There was a hush silence between us. I waited.
“Your mum and Frankie…”
“The gym instructor?” I filled in.
“Yes. They are close.” She slid it fast.
“Yes, maybe.”
I sank in thoughts. For the remaining part of the walk, Carline kept apologizing for judging them. I did not judge her either.
It was at two O’clock. I had just arrived home. My mother stretched her neck out of the master bedroom window and met my eyes in bewilderment. Stared at me. Bit her lips. Traces of saliva overwhelming her lips. Her lips tight closed, she glared at me with narrow eyes. She wasn’t expecting dad and me back home?
“Err… the door, mom.” I stammered.
She smirked. Banged the window and closed the curtain. I knew dad was home, and I had really failed him in his ungodly duty at that godly hour.
“Why are you home early?” She exploded.
“It’s a holiday! I lamented.
“Holiday. Oooh.”
She breathed heavily. I saw her heartbeat struggle to beat its chambers.
“Carline, you aren’t going to see her today?”
“Ah, I have just seen her off.”
“Ooh…mmmh”
“I need to piss mom. Do you mind?” I lamented.
“Next time you’re on holiday ask for money to go out.” She croaked.
She was in her Shirt-dress. Her hips pulled it up to reveal her thighs. Her skin was clean. The scent from her body was depicted her being like corked wine, ready to be served to a boy’s club gathering.
Like a detective, I lead the way as she slowly pulled the door. All my senses were at work. Especially the sense of smell and sight. The sense of hearing came a distant third.
“What is it? She barked.”
“I love…”
“You love what?” She interrupted.
“The smell, ahhh…”
“What are you smelling. Don’t you have some parental respect in you?”
That killed me. I had this strong moral code of obeying my parents. Did my dad hear her speak?
I heard the splash of a bathroom shower. She suddenly relaxed and smirked…
“Welcome home.”
Was it a signal? I knew my dad was probably pissed off. I dashed into my room. I would not get out until I’m sure he is calm and collected. How would I even start off the next time I bump into him smiling at me? I was this silly girl who could not give his parents breathing space on holiday. That was simply common sense! I would have turned back when my mom gave me that smirking look. The memory elapsed.
“Darling daughter!” Dad called.
He was a patient man. A gentleman. A confidant. A soft man. Hardworking. Focused. Calm and collected. All the attributes that attract bad girls were his.
“Babe, I forgot to pass by Mama Roba’s fish.” He would say to my mother.
It is said that bad things happen to good people. Scarcely is it said that good happens to bad people. Is it a way of preventing good people from crossing to the other side? Mom never knew that I had all along known that there is something fishy between him and someone this Frankie. It must be. Signs and wonders had accompanied her actions, confirming my worst fears, henceforth.
So today I was going to redeem. Redemption from embarrassment. Redemption from betrayal, backstabbing, and a stupid wife. Redemption from a he-goat. Wait…what about my mother? Am I going to have a mother again? Would she forgive her?
“Tyra…”
I quickly dashed into the wardrobe, pushed all the dresses. Pounced on the very dress she had described. A cocktail dress. I buried my head into it as my mother walked in.
“You found it?” She lowered her voice.
“Yes. Thank you.” I stammered.
Tears of despondency cascaded down my cheeks as I wittily avoided locking eyes with her.
“You are crying.” She gasped.
“Mh-mh Thank you for the dress,” I mumbled.
“You…love it?”
“It’s pretty,” I whispered.
Words just escaped my lips. I never meant them. I was lost in my reverie when she suddenly grabbed me into her arms. As she hugged me, the image of Frankie mocking me and squeezing her sittings flashed I my 17-year-old head like a terrible flash. She hugged me just the way Frankie hugged her. I felt mocked.
“Your father is here.” She announced.
I feigned liveliness. I wanted her to let me go. Like the historical Judas hug, I really pitied her. I was going to walk straight into my father’s arms and accuse her. I was going to accuse Frankie. He bullied me and mom allowed it. Yes. She allowed it and I did not care. I dashed down the hallway and made a grant entry into the living room.
“Aaah, look at her,” Dad remarked.
I feigned a smile. Guess who was eating the pudding I had prepared? The demonic Frankie with his gymnastic appetite.
“Dad, I had prepared pudding for you.”
“Sorry, your mom has served it to my childhood friend.” Dad marked.
“You can prepare some other pudding?” Frankie croaked.
“Shut up, you bully!” I cursed.
“Eeeh, What’s up?” Frankie cut in.
“What is wrong?” Mom added.
“You two know exactly what is wrong here,” I shouted.
“Go to your room now!” She commanded.
I remained standing timid. I had bestowed upon me a heavy laden. Who would be thy salvation? Just in case things turned out bloody and muddy.
- Writer
