Something Unusual

EIGHT

JARED AKINBADE

Someone was knocking on his bedroom door.

"Excuse me, sir. Your father said he doesn't want to call you twice" The person said, without waiting for him to acknowledge that he was listening.

The voice was feminine and unfamiliar. His father's patience was wearing thin.

"Okay" Jared responded. He was staring at the door, wondering who was behind it. "I'm coming."

"Okay, sir" the unfamiliar voice said and Jared heard feet shuffle.

"Wait" He said, giving in to curiosity. The shuffling stopped. "Come in."

"Sir?" The voiced, which Jared was convinced belong to a young girl, questioned behind the door. Jared realized how odd his instruction was.

"Open the door," he corrected.

The next few moments were silent, except for the sound of the air-conditioner blowing out cool filtered air, before the door knob twisted.

The door slide open slowly, and a young girl, about Jared age– could be older or not, he couldn't tell– stood at the door.

Jared was staring at her and she at him, eyes unblinking. If she noticed that array of colours he was wearing, she did not react.

Her face, warm light casting a bronze gold glow in her very dark skin, and eyes as dull as a worn-out eraser, was as unfamiliar as his voice.

Jared wondered if she had been the one who cleaned his room.

"Are you the one who cleaned my room?" He asked.

"Yes, sir" she said, blankly. She did not end or start her sentence with mid squats, like other young helps did.

"What's your name?"

"Martha, sir" But she ended her sentence with 'sir', like the other helps.

"Okay, Martha" Jared said, registering her name. "Don't leave the AC that low next time. Leave it at the highest"

Martha's expression neither revealed remorse, nor if she registered what he was saying "Okay, sir"

He found her presence unsettling.

"You can go" Jared said, tearing his eyes from her and returning to his phone.

Martha did not say anything else, but the door closed gently and Jared heard the sound of her receding footsteps.

The time on his phone would've read 3:44 PM. Jared wondered if he should test his father's patience a little more by waiting to 4 O' clock.

After a minute or so, Jared decided he had done enough and got off his bed.

He made his was through his door, along the corridor that branched to his parents' room, his father's study, the second living room and the stairs. He went own the stairs and unto another corridor.

Then he walked to the breakfast lounge but neither of his parents were there.

"Nous sommes dans la salle à manger, cher," his mother called from the dinning room. So he walked to the dinning. His father was seated at the head of the rectangular table, and his mother was seated on the left, next to his father.

The table was covered with deep red damask to match the oxblood-coloured curtains in the room. A large casserole dish of jollof spaghetti sat at the center of the table, surrounded by a bowl of salad, another much smaller casserole dish with beef, and a small plate of tomato sauce.