Night Like That (rewritten)

five

Lesbianism: /lɛzbiənɪzᵊm/ n 1 the act of a woman being sexually attracted to other women 2 the art of being Ivy Ototi

"You are very lesbiany, Ivy, and that is saying something considering I have lesbianed my whole life," Mama Boi said as she poured her a cup of scorching tea.

When not asking for her son, Mama Boi was perfectly normal. She liked doing old woman things like crochet, never switching on her television, making tea with way too much milk and masala and judging every and any young person who happened her way. Ivy was one such young person and unlike other young people who escaped her in haste, she seemed to be glued to her. At first, Mama Boi had thought it might have been a case of a girl who was not the brightest. Soon enough, she determined that while she was not the brightest, she was bright enough and that was enough for any woman in the current age. She reasoned it had something to do with the fact that she dressed like a fisherman and she'd been the only one to never say anything about it.

Currently, Ivy had been making a right mess of her carpet, going back and forth, saying so many things she could only be bothered to really listen to half of them. If she was correct - and she had a strong hunch she was entirely correct - her downstairs neighbour was affected by a dalliance she'd had with her best friend. Passionate night, she had said, and now she had no where to go and she was her only hero. "Only I don't want to talk about it, you know? It's weird. How do we even talk about it?"

"Mmh," Mama Boi mused as she sipped on some of her piping hot tea. Once upon a time, she'd have huffed and puffed but she had struck her tongue to absolute obedience and nothing was ever too hot for it. "Sit and have some tea. You are ruining my carpet and I know you cannot afford to get me a new one."

Ivy obliged her lesbian mentor and made herself comfortable on the sofa Mama Boi knew to be significantly older than her. Ivy pulled the cup and its saucer to her laps, resting it there. Not too long ago, she had been burnt by the thing she liked to call 'Mama Boi's infernal tea'. Since then, she took to letting it cool on her laps before sipping on it. "But what do I do? You're supposed to have all the answers of the universe!"

"First of all," Mama Boi said, "I'm just a girl. Two, you are right. I do know everything about the universe, and one thing that I came to know to be absolutely true is that you can never know what one person is thinking unless you outright ask them. So, ask her what she thinks about your dalliance. Maybe she's had a change of heart, or maybe you really reaffirmed the fact that you are just a friend to her."

Try as she might, Mama Boi thought, Ivy could not hide the hurt that coloured her eyes. While she wanted to smooth things for her, make her life significantly simpler than hers had been, she had the moral obligation to tell her truths like that. That way, she would not end up being befuddled by nonsense in the future. God knew just how he made her, and he made her to be the particular kind of girl who was much too naive for her own good. Her sort of naive was born out of kindness but naivety still.

"But, I just can't ask her."

"Why not?" She had not meant to be forceful. In fact, she was of the belief that she had been soft a plenty, but the echo back to her ears suggested otherwise, and she hoped the same echo had not done its way into Ivy's ears.

Ivy exhaled much too loudly, her eyes settling on the telly that was functionally an aesthetic ornament more than anything else. "I suppose I don't want to know. If I keep on not knowing the answer, then it can not be bad." She turned to face Mama Boi, her eyes coloured the kind of grown-up you saw in children. "If it's true and I affirmed to the fact that she doesn't like me, I'll never know. I think I like that option much better than her telling me and... well... Besides, nothing will change if I don't ask her. We'll just fall back into being friends like we always have."

Mama Boi couldn't help but smile. Had she ever been flustered like her? Could she even remember the last time she had been just as taken as Ivy was? In some respect, she envied her. She had missed the pitter patter of her heart as she thought about her object of desire. She suddenly wanted that with such deep desperation she could feel her hands shiver so forcefully she had to put her tea cup down. She was envious of Ivy in all the ways that mattered and pitiful in the ways that would matter.

"And what if the answer is the other part? What if she is just as desperate as you but just like you, chose to do nothing? Then what?"

Ivy sipped on her slightly cooled tea. She was stalling for an answer, and Mama Boi could not blame her. Hope was an enemy as much as it was a friend, and only seriously stupid people never looked to it without some sort of weary scrutiny.

"If that were the case, she wouldn't have rushed off like that. She hasn't even texted me properly since that day. She only called because snakes have taken over her home."

Mama Boi scrunched her brow. "I still have no idea what you mean by this. Is it a euphemism of sorts? You young people and you idioms, I can never keep up. I wonder if Boi would have been like this?"

Like most every time, Ivy ignored her mention of Boi, and she could not bring herself to blame her. She was not even sure at that point why she was Mama Boi and who Boi was. "No euphemisms. She literally had snakes come to her house, and now she is half homeless." Ivy said. "I thought snakes didn't hang out with snakes or in the middle of Nairobi." She shrugged. "It has to be super stressful for her right now. She hates asking for help, and I know she is standing somewhere, being angry that she asked me for help. That brings me to my final point, I can not even bring it up because she already feels shit, pardon me, about asking for help. The best I can do is be her friend. Let her cry on my shoulder. I have been working out, you know?"

"You are hopeless," Mama Boi said as she took the last sip of her first cup.