A Loner's Journey Through Lemonade Making

Chapter 28|

The holiday was short but good. I read and rested a lot.

Only one thought dampened my mood whenever it crossed my mind, and that was the thought of not resuming with my classmates for the next session. It made my heart ache whenever I remembered it. I would become moody and spend the day crying. I would think of all the things and people I would miss, and cry more. But I still had a bit of faith. I knew within myself that something would happen, even if it was at the last moment when it seemed too late. I would console myself with that and wipe my tears.

Seeing Uncle Blessing almost everyday made it worse. The sight of him doubled the pain and anger, and I just wished he would disappear, but not before depositing my fees for the next three years of course. But the chances of that happening were as slim as a broomstick, and in other words, impossible.

Today was Sunday, the day before resumption. And like other Sundays in the last few months, we didn't go to church. I was now used to our new morning routine, which included getting dressed in comfy clothes, eating and sleeping in.

I was glad it was Sunday, because it meant drama. In the past few months, I'd noticed that something dramatic always happened on Sundays. Not on all Sundays, but only about one per month. And the drama always revolved around Uncle Blessing, like Mary and Mrs Tegbe. I was looking forward to something happening that Sunday.

The drama didn't come in the day, but at night. It was a few minutes to nine o'clock, dinner had been eaten, dishes had been washed, and everyone was either preparing for bed or the week ahead. I had ironed my uniforms, and was polishing my shoes ahead of Monday.

I sat in front of the house, taking in the evening breeze. The stars, as always, graced the blue blanket that was the night sky. The street lamps illuminated the roads for pedestrians and motorists. The crickets did their thing, a few dogs were barking, some cats were meowing and the leaves moved at the command of the wind, while their branches stood rooted in the soil.

It would be a peaceful night, the night before a new beginning, my last term in junior secondary school.

As if. Our Sunday had to have drama, and I was beginning to lose patience waiting for it.

A car drove past our house. I didn't see it properly because it had sped off before I could get a proper look at it and try to guess who it belonged to. Thankfully, the driver reversed, probably because he or she had missed the house they were going to, and parked outside our house.

I got up from my chair and dropped my shoes on the floor. I stretched my neck in an attempt to see who the driver was, which was quite stupid because the car definitely wasn't a stone throw from where I was. I eventually went to the empty gate man's quarters and peeped through the window.

It was a black car, a Benz. The driver was a female, a light-skinned lady with a black and blonde ombre weave. She was applying red lipstick. I couldn't see her face because she wore sunglasses, which I didn't see the point of because it was dark.

As she prepared to alight the car, putting her phone and mirror into her bag, I ran to the garden with my shoes and shoe polish.

There was a knock on the gate, then another. And because I was now used to those type of things, Uncle Blessing's concubines showing up and acting soap operas, I lay my head on the glass table and pretended to be asleep. My eyes were still open and my ears were waiting to hear the conversation.

The front door opened, I heard it.

I smiled excitedly, grateful for some drama. As far as it didn't involve me, I didn't care what happened. It just meant more content for my reality TV show which I was yet to give a name to.