Dorcas was the only girl who used a wheelchair in my village, but she did not always use a wheelchair—not until one day, seven years ago, when she had an accident while messing around with Mama's chickens.
Dorcas had fallen off a tree.
Since she was Pastor Ejiro's grandchild, she always attended his teachings in the village square. It is because of Dorcas I enjoyed attending Pastor Ejiro's teachings—so I could stand close to her and hold her hand during hymns. She did not have a very beautiful voice. Her voice was cringey—flat like a dying whistle. Still, I found it alluring and seductive, tempting me to crave things Pastor Ejiro always warned us against—like caressing her fleshy breasts, which never missed my sight whenever Dorcas bent over in her wheelchair. But I didn't think Dorcas would ever see me the same way.
"Men are disgusting," she always said.
"But why?" I asked one time, but Dorcas shook her head; she did not want to talk about it. So, I said, "You're only seventeen. What do you know about men?"
She leaned in her chair and looked abstractedly into the distance, her gaze fixated on Mama's straying chickens, and she frowned like she had lived for a thousand years, with this sad wisdom in her eyes.
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Jonathan and Other Weird Stories
Short StoryA collection of short stories 1) THABISA Tunde is gay, and Jabulani has his eyes on him. Angry eyes, filled with weird desires. All his life, Tunde has felt bound with shackles, longing to taste freedom. Real freedom---to walk down the streets, smil...
