Revolt

3. Grief Stash

“There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest parts. So just give me a happy middle and a very happy start.” – Shel Silverstein.

•••

Lekan watched Dayo, as he stood motionless behind the women—with a latent look of fatigue on his face and he couldn’t help but feel pity for the young author. Tiolu was taking forever to round up whatever conversation she was having with Amanda, Ife and Anjola who all encircled her as if they were miners, and she was gold.

It was Sunday morning already, and they were still on the cruise ferry but set to depart soon. A white chopper had arrived, to transport the author and his wife to the airport but it would seem Tiolu was having second thoughts on leaving for her honeymoon, or she wished the girls could tag along.

Tiolu finally concluded whatever address she was giving, and swallowed all the girls in one, big, bear hug before ejecting herself from their midst and joining her husband. The latter snaked an arm through her waist, and guided her down the ferry onto the path,  leading to the chopper.

Lekan folded his arms, and watched alongside the girls and some other well wishers who were set to leave—as the couple boarded the helicopter, and took off into the air. Even though, he and Tiolu weren’t the embodiment of twin siblings who had a close relationship and were inseparable, he knew he’d still miss not having her headache inducing energy around.

Just as he was about to take off himself, Anjola surfaced in his front with her arms folded. She had changed into a casual outfit of a green cashmere sweater, grey faded jeans and brown wedges. Her short permed hair was thick and seamless, with fluid curls that reached the crane of her neck and her bow-shaped lips were more alluring than ever, since she was pouting. He wondered what her mission was.

“Do I really have to go with you to check out the stuff at Tiolu’s house?” She sounded genuinely traumatized, and he almost caved in on his ploy of spending more time with her but he didn’t. He was going to hoard the key for as long, as it was needed.

“Yep, didn’t you hear Tiolu over dinner yesterday? It’s the trick of getting me to go and inspect stuff. So now, if you would excuse me, I need to go home and drink. My dad wants to see me tomorrow for something crucial, and I think it’s great that God has given me a  day head start to drink, and brace myself for whatever discussion we’re about to have.”

If Anjola was disgusted by his words, she did well to conceal it because all he could see on her face was saturated frustration. “Oh, you poor thing. For all we know, your dad could do something worse than what Odin did to Thor, after he disobeyed him. Come here, you need a hug in hard times like this.”

Lekan was divided about accepting Anjola’s request for a hug. It didn’t correlate with the rest of the traits imbibed in her guarded persona, but because he was a touchy feely person who had nursed multiple sexual fantasies where Anjola succumbed to his will, he stepped into the hug anyway—so he could at least get a sense of what touching her would be like in reality. Before he could savor the moment however, and let his hand explore the length of her back, she pulled away rather abruptly with a devilish smile in her eyes. It was then and there, that he knew there had been an ulterior motive behind the hug.

“What did you do?” He frowned, as he slid his hands over his body frantically as if she could have extracted an essential organ. It was when he dipped his hand into his back pocket, that he realized he had been robbed. “Ah, you took the key tract huh?”