ARÍRE (We Have Seen Goodness)

YOUR BODY NA TEMPTATION

After some minutes, Ifunanya brought three bottles of Star, a glass cup, an opener, and a hot plate of catfish pepper soup. In a span of ten minutes, two bottles were already down, and I could feel the dizziness from the alcohol gradually setting in.

I remembered the one time I had come home drunk on the night of Obinna's bachelor party. Arire had kept malice with me for two days straight. Arire's dislike of alcohol was very evident. It reminded her of Aunty Asake's husband, Baba Segun, as we usually called him because of his firstborn, Segun. Baba Segun was a total drunk. I remember the day of our wedding when that useless man came totally drunk, reeking of alcohol. During those times, Arire and I talked about Aunty Asake and her husband, and she never hid her disdain for him.

"Sometimes I wonder why Aunty Asake remains with that wretched excuse of a man. My husband, do you know that every time he drinks his accursed paraga and local gin, he pounces on Aunty Asake and beats her until she's black and blue? If not for the neighbors' constant interventions, we would have gathered at the mortuary by now, casting handfuls of earth on her lifeless body, muttering, 'Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's.'"

"He's an animal for raising his hands on a woman. Coward," I muttered.

"That's why I don't want you to drink, Ikenna. I beg you, stay away from alcohol. It strips people of their dignity. It's like a serpent that coils around the soul, squeezing out the essence of a man until he becomes but a husk, a thing devoid of honor and reason. It transforms men into beasts. Please, my husband, I don't want to see you lost to that darkness."

"If you fear that I will become like Baba Segun, cast those fears aside. I would sooner lie in the earth's embrace, six feet deep, than ever raise my hand against you."

I was drowning in the warmth of the drink, the liquid comfort that numbed the edges of my pain. I kept ordering more, bottle after bottle, until the numbers blurred together, lost in the haze.

As I sipped my beer, a voice cut through the fog in my mind. "Ikenna? Is that you?" I looked up, squinting through the blur, and saw the silhouette of a woman. She wore a black short gown that accentuated her curves and popped her breasts out, her nails a flashy red-like a daughter of Jezebel. Her large, round earrings swung as she flipped her ginger-colored, bone-straight hair. Even through my bleary eyes, I recognized that face anywhere.

"Alice Oghenekaro from Unilag 2008 set," I said.

Alice was the happening babe of the department back then when we were in school. Alice and her girls, Nkechi, Toke, and Aisha. They were those babes we referred to as the big fish of the class. I had less encounter with Alice back then in school; most times we had met and communicated were through our meetings at school parties.

"Ikenna, what are you doing here? It's been ages," she said, her eyes scanning my disheveled appearance. "Eight years, perhaps? Trouble in paradise?"

I forced a small, sad smile. "This paradise of mine is pure hell," I retorted. She took a white plastic chair and sat closer to me. "Why are you here, Ikenna? What's happening with you? You look..."

"I look bad," I cut in. "Life has dealt me a cruel hand," I replied bitterly, my words slurred.

She looked at me with a mix of concern and curiosity. "What happened, Ikenna?"

Typical of a Nigerian, I answered her question with a question. "What about you, Alice? Where's your husband?"

"Better forget that one. I've had nothing but bad luck with relationships, always meeting frogs. The shege Lagos men have shown me will last my whole generation."

"Where your own shima? Abi you wan tell me say you no get any shima for your cabal?" she questioned me with her Delta pidgin lingo.

My face turned cold at the mention of my wife. All the thoughts I had tucked in peacefully ever since I was here came rushing back, and the image of Arire's crying face surfaced in my mind. Damn it!

"You look like I just mentioned something bad. What's going on? Is your madam at home giving you problems?"

I hesitated for a moment, then the floodgates opened. I found myself telling her everything-Arire, the pregnancy, the rape. She sat there, listening quietly, her face ranging from sympathy to confusion.

"This is hard, Ikenna, but you don't have to go through this alone," she said softly. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."

"How can she be here for me? My inner thoughts blurrily questioned." She's barely more or less a stranger, but her words were like a soothing balm to my wounded soul. For the first time that night, I felt a sense of being heard.

We ordered more drinks, the alcohol numbing the sharp edges of my pain. The conversations around us faded into the background as I immersed myself in her presence. She shared her story about a boyfriend who had cheated on her with a colleague, explaining why she was there tonight.

"You sef, you dey date Femi? Those ones are the real Yoruba demons; they consume pepper like they consume water." We both burst into laughter, a sound that felt almost foreign to me.

Hours passed, and the drinks kept coming. I could feel the alcohol taking hold, my thoughts becoming hazy and my words slurred. Alice moved closer, her hand resting gently on my arm.

"Ikenna, since you do not want to go home, why don't we go to my place? I live not too far," she suggested, her voice soft and tempting.

In my drunken state, her suggestion seemed like salvation, even as a quiet voice inside-my conscience, my intuition-whispered, "Ikenna, you are playing with fire." I silenced the voice with a nod, surrendering to the moment.

We left Mama Ifeoma's, the night air hitting me with a sudden clarity that quickly faded as we walked. Alice guided me to her apartment. It was warm and surprisingly luxurious in a simple way. A golden table in the center of the room held two remotes and a magazine. Two home theater speakers stood tall beside the large television. Her brown chairs complemented the cream-colored walls.

Inside, the room spun gently as I sank into her couch. Alice disappeared briefly, returning with a glass of water. "Drink this," she said, her voice like a soothing lullaby. I drank, the cold water a stark contrast to the warm intoxication in my veins.

Before I knew it, Alice was sitting beside me again, her proximity both tempting and inviting. She leaned in, her eyes searching mine. "Ikenna, you need to let go of the past. Start thinking about your future."

"Where's the future?" my inner thoughts quietly questioned.

"You deserve to be happy," she whispered. Her breasts softly pressed against my chest, and I could feel my body responding. "Calm down, Mr. Man," I rebuked that bastard between my legs.

Her scent was intoxicating, her soft hands roaming my bare belly. I could feel the precum already forming, a sign of the temptation she represented.

She pinched my left nipple gently, and I moaned, helpless under her touch. "What's wrong with you, Ikenna? Do you want me to stop?"

Her question hung in the air, absurd in its sincerity. Was she really serious? Stop? "No, I... I... I want you to continue," I stammered, my voice heavy with need. Her hand moved to palm me through my jeans, and I surrendered completely. Our lips met in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a conflagration of longing. The world outside ceased to exist as we became lost in each other, the alcohol blurring the lines between right and wrong, past and future.

A/N: Out of curiosity, what are your thoughts on this book so far? I would really like to hear them.

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