Tales of Light

BEHIND BARS

This short story was originally published in the Celestial Conversations anthology which was a compilation of the top 10 that made the shortlist of the Shuzia prose Competition, October/November 2023. Happy reading.📖💖

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Justina let out a soft groan as a loud crash from the main bar jerked her out of her depressing reverie. Those stupid drunks had started again.

She stood from the table in her dingy office and shuffled out to see what was the cause of the ruckus.

Her eyes scanned the scene and she squinted in disgust at the tattooed man who was bullying a cowering barboy. There were shards of a broken bottle strewn on the floor.

'What a mess,' she thought, stewing.

"Cut it out! You all can behave like pregnant cows outside this bar. Not on my grounds!" her strained voice echoed.

The culprit smirked, raking his eyes over her petite body. She recognized him as one of the annoying regulars who made lewd passes at her.

"Justi Justi. Fine babe," he slurred, "I no get time for wahala. Na your yeye worker dey move like snail."

"You'll pay for the mess."

He smirked and moved closer to her, tracing a finger on her chin.

"We go run am... for bed," he whispered hoarsely.

She slapped his hand off her face as the fuse in her blew.

"Everybody out! Now!" she screeched. They all looked stunned by her outburst. The few customers left, grumbling in anger. Mr Hulk was the last to leave. She hissed.

Her three workers stood in front of her, unsure of what to do.

"You too!"
Knowing her sporadic tantrums, they hastily packed up their stuff and hurried out.

As Justina killed the music and swirling disco lights, she felt drained.

With trembling fingers, she turned the sign at the front window.

Closed.

She went to the bar lounge, sat on a stool and wept.

The storm clouds that had been threatening all evening cried along with her. How befitting!

A sly thought crept into her mind. Why not just end it all now? What was the point? After all, she had sunken so low into the black hole that she couldn't see the light again.

She pulled out her pocket knife and slowly twirled it. If she cut deeper this time, would she bleed out fast enough? By tomorrow, she'd be pale and lifeless on the floor. Then everyone would find out what she'd been hiding in her basement.

One minute later-it could have been an eternity for all Justina cared-the entrance door creaked open, just as she was about to slice her wrist.

"Are you blind?" she growled lowly, hiding the knife from sight. "The bar is closed for the night."

"Um, I must have missed that," a sonorous treble voice said softly.

Like a magnet does iron, the voice pulled her and she spun to see who owned it.

The man standing before her was well-built and clad in a drenched attire that reeked of luxury. He had a suitcase in his hand.

She didn't recognise him-which was something because she knew virtually everyone on this side of Ajegunle who frequented bars and nightclubs.

He looked so out of place that Justina's brows furrowed.
There was an unexplainable aura around him that made her earlier tumult melt away.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she said,
"Who are you? What do you want?"