The Raise of Esu

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The phone rang.

For goodness sake, what time is it? 5am? Adewale let the phone ring off.

The phone rang again. Adewale knew who the caller was, and he was not in the mood to talk. The phone rang off. Finally, some peace and quiet; silent never felt so sweet. He knew eventually that he would have to pick up that phone and make that call. He was dreading it, calculating what time of day he would make the call, and what excuses he would give. This was futile, he thought; its only going to cause more trouble. Not that he didn't mind. Maybe its wiser to nip it in the bud.

He made the call.

"Hello ma'am?"

"Ade! Why didn't you pick up when I called? I called you twice! What did you do last night? Lift cement? I categorically told you that every morning at 5 you must be up and ready for prayers!"

For goodness sake, thought Adewale. He zoned out, letting his foster mother vent her frustration.

"So? Are you just going to keep quiet? How many times I've I told you to set your alarm for every morning at 5? Can't you take care of yourself?" She had struck a nerve.

"Ma'am it not a big deal." He had had enough. He was not a kid anymore; he was in university far from home, away from the tyranny of his foster mother.

"What is not a big deal? Setting your alarm?"

"No ma'am, the prayers."

There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. He had been down this road many times.

"What do you mean?" she enquired slowly.

"Ma'am you can pray for me but honestly I don't care-"

She cut the phone. He was relieved; he had struck a nerve. Now he could rest.

It was Adewale's first day in university and he doubted he would even attend. He tossed and turned the idea in his head, eventually deciding late into the morning he might as well attend his induction day. He sat up on his bed. I need to look nice, he thought. But not too nice. He looked at his phone; 10.21am. Induction starts at 12. He showered and spent a while, longer than he needed to, mixing and matching, cussing and tossing, debating and deliberating on what to wear until he settled on his favourite attire; red and black tracksuit.  All that energy for nothing, he said to himself.

Existing into the autumn morning, the cold crisp air juxtaposing the sweet sunny rays of the sun, Adewale made way to the nearest supermarket and waited across the street, humming to the rhythm of the song blasting through his headphones. The store was not busy, and the guard, the only on in the store, occasionally walked out, looked around and walked back in. Adewale look at his phone; 11.21am. A couple more minutes, he said to himself. He walked around, pretending to be on a call; he didn't want to look suspicious to the guard, so he ended his pretend conversation and stared at the early rush hour, and hilly landscape hiding behind the corporate metal buildings. From the corner of his eye, he saw a group of young people; the Indian girl, short and chubby, carried a big square big pack. She was in conversation with a white girl, dressed in conservative brown jacket. Behind them were three young men who looked like they belonged in academia; thick glasses with boring green and brown attire . A couple more minutes, Adewale thought to himself.

What started as a drop became a shower; more and more young people began to make their way to into the store. As they crowded at the entrance, Adewale slid into the group, purposely walking into one of the members of the group, apologising, then engaging in small talk; You're on your way to uni? Me too! What uni do you go to? Same! I'm a first-year business and economics student. You study maths? Awesome, I might hire you some day! Bahahaha! What are you doing later? Nothing? Look, heres my number. I'm gonna organise a party soon, and don't worry, the drinks are on me! Now you're interested yeah? Bahahaha!

Noticing that the guard was distracted, Adewale exited the conversation. He walked to the bakery stall, took a bag and pocketed four croissants. Satisfied with his haul, he calmly walked around the store, past the guard and out of the store.

Walking towards the station, he grinned to himself. Free breakfast and new friends, he thought to himself. They looked really nerdly, I wonder what they are hiding under those thick glasses. He chuckled go himself, thinking wicked thoughts and wicked schemes. This morning went off to a great start.

"What is your name?"

Adewale looked around, then paused.

"What is your name?" enquired an old man, his hair grey and thinning, his statue wry and hunched, his skin pale and wrinkled. Behind his false smile was black and brown crooked teeth. "What is your name?" he repeated again.

"Me?" enquired Adewale. "None of your business. You want money or something?"

"What is your name?'

Adewale wanted to walk away, but he couldn't; he felt a magnetic force emanating from the old man, like a mouse transfixed by the eyes of a serpent. "What is your name, boy?"

"My name is none of your bloody-"

"You alright there, mate?" asked a female train officer. "You alright? You seem to be having a conversation with yourself."

Adewale looked at her, then looked back at the old man, who wasn't there. "Naa I'm good, I was just taking to my friend" he replied, pointing to his headphones.

In the train, the old man and his question kept running through his head. Was he imagining him? He thought back to the night before; did he take any drugs? No he didn't. He couldn't have. He felt his chest tighten. What the hell was all that about?