Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Twenty-seven

On the day that Phoenix had seen the papers and read what Ali Hassan had said about him, Phoenix had packed a bag, called Lawrence and sworn him to secrecy about the fact that he was going to the East to see his parents on a surprise visit, and then he went to the GUO park at Ajah, boarded a bus, and then he was on his way to Onitsha. He had to see his parents.

And then, when he got to the East and was deeply ensconced in the home of his parents, away from all prying eyes, he learnt that one of his old classmates, Emeka Umeji, had been hospitalized as a result of some freak accident he’d had some time ago. Phoenix was the kind of guy who never forgot anything that was ever done for him, whether good or bad, and he remembered that during the time of their schooling, the guy had been one of the very few that had been nice and good to him. So he went to the hospital where the guy was lying in a coma, with his mother running helter-skelter looking for the money with which to foot the bill of his medical expenses. He paid off the entire sums needed, and though the woman had been blissfully oblivious as to who he really was, he’d just turned around and then walked away. It was an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; he had repaid the kindness in full.

The truth was that Phoenix was a guy who never forgot an act that was done for him, whether good or bad. He repaid both in full; there were those who had been very kind to him in the past, and for their kindness, he paid them back even though the acts must have been obliterated from their minds. And for those who had hurt him, he had his revenge waiting; he was extremely good at playing the waiting game because of his cold analytical mind. He would wait you out, and then, when the opportunity presented itself, then he would strike.

There were several messages on his voicemail when he bothered to check, and several from Henry Johnson. He could detect the despair in the guy’s voice, and he could only roll his eyes at the way the guy sounded so passionate even over the phone waves. And the answer Phoenix gave to him was silence, which in its own was an answer.

He wanted some distance both from Henry and from all those who were craving his attention for one thing or the other. It was always about what he could do for others, never about what others could do for him. And he resented Henry deeply for the way he had ignored Phoenix at the Blue Hyena. There he’d been, with his dolled up wife and perfect family, and he had chosen to remain stubbornly silent when Phoenix had gone to say hi. Later on, the devil had dared to come crawling back to him, saying that he was sorry for what he had done that evening. And then later that night, Henry had cried like a baby, thinking that Phoenix was asleep, but he wasn’t－ he’d feigned sleep; after all, he was a very good actor.

But that was not what Phoenix cared about now, so he banished the sculpted Adonis from his mind. Throughout that month he kept busy with going to the Onitsha Divisional library at the GRA and read up a lot of books, as many as he could devour so he could brush up on his affair with learning. And that brought to mind the treatment that he’d gotten at the hands of his aunt in Calabar; he had never forgotten it, and he had never forgiven it, nor would he until the day he died. He had never called his aunt ever, but he had spoken to her husband once, and Ezekiel had wanted to see him. But that was not possible－ they were not in the same league now.

By April, he went back to Lagos, straight to Lekki, and there was Lawrence at home because phoenix had arrived back very late. They had their time to catch up on what they had missed from the lives of each other, and then they went into Lawrence’s room and sat down before the TV on which played Sridevi’s shocking Bollywood snake movie Nagina, to talk.

‘Ali Hassan has done a lot of damage to you,’ Lawrence told him plainly. ‘You should never have tried to cast the man out in the cold. He’s got a lot of dirt on you, and he’s willing to continue using them.’

‘I know,’ Phoenix replied. ‘I was stupid then, to think that there was nothing about my past there that won’t come out now to bite me in the ass. The man is already pulling the chains on my career, and I must say that he’s almost done quite a lot of damage because some very high-ranking members of the Actors’ Guild are clamoring to have me banned from ever acting again in Nigeria.’

Lawrence looked furious. ‘That’s very bad for you, and it’s all because of that ass-licking homo man.’

‘I will handle him when the time comes,’ Phoenix said coldly, his eyes narrowed, staring straight ahead as he thought of what to pay his old protector back with. ‘That man is the least of my problems. Thank God that when he started with the crap, I just flew underground and had some very nice time with my family. Everything has already blown over.’

That night, the two men went out to the White Phoenix which was packed with the usual crowd of very beautiful men and sexy young women who were all out in the night for some same-sex love. They were all stunning, as they should be, for it was no news that gays took much better care of themselves than their heterosexual counterparts ever could. A loud cheer rose in the air the moment that Phoenix stepped in, looking resplendent in black velvet, with jewels at his wrists and on his fingers, his eyes lined with deep kohl. He was the king here for all these young men and women who, scorned by the society, ridiculed by their friends and family if they ever found out about their sexuality, had come to his hangout to be who they truly were and be free.

And then there was Henry Johnson seated off at a corner table with his closest friend Richard Oke, sipping beer. Phoenix smiled as he thought about what the other guy would think if he were ever to find out that the majority of the guys and the babes that frequented the White Phoenix were gays, but he merely winked at them and got onto the dance floor, with those there screaming and hailing him as he did a slow dance number with a leggy young fashion model from the University of Lagos who was stunning, one of his good friends, and also a lesbian who had admitted to him that she could not bear the touch of a guy sexually. But by merely looking at her you would never know that.

Later on, after Richard had had his fill of Life Lager beer and left, Phoenix sat down with Henry and they talked.

‘Why did you leave?’ Henry asked. ‘How could you just pack up and get out without telling me of your plans? And now, because of how crazy you made me, my wife suspected me of having an affair with you because I was acting like a crazy man and babbling your name in my sleep. And I had to fuck her for over an hour and look into her eyes and lie to her.’

Phoenix was barely listening to the guy rant about the myriad of problems he had with his wife because he had his own Phoenix problems to think of; he had to set his life in order. ‘After I returned to Lagos I called Anthony St. Claire but he had his stupid bitch of a secretary screen the call, and then he sent me an email telling me that he couldn’t put me in another movie. To him, I have become like dynamite, and waiting to explode at any time, and he doesn’t want me to contaminate his earnings with my negative popularity. They are all getting ready to dump me. Will you help me talk to him, please?’

Henry nodded stonily.

And then Phoenix smiled, for he knew that even though Henry was furious with him, there was nothing he wanted that the guy would not do for him. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and there was this new question at the tip of his tongue to ask Henry about what precisely had happened with Fiona, but he kept mum, because he did not wish to muddle still waters.