Chapter 2 HERE GOES THE PAST

S E G U N

I struggle against the rage bubbling inside me as my hand raises instinctively. I drop it almost immediately, when I see mama recoil in shock. Abject fear is stamped on her face and I stare, dazed at my hand.

Was I actually about to do something crazy?

Like . . . hit her?

I cover up my confusion and turn round to walk back to the room, throwing some words at Femi over my shoulder as I move.

Once I get into the room, I feel the uncoiled tension in the air. Eve is standing by the window gazing out, but I know, I just know that she heard Mama's words. Even the dead would've heard her. Her voice is shrill and rings out clearly when she chooses to raise it.

I stand uncertainly for some seconds, with her bra still in my hand, gauging how to go about easing her pain. There's something about her that makes me want to protect her from everyone, even from mama.

Making up my mind on what to do, I drop her bra on the chair and stride towards her. She raises troubled eyes to me as I take her by the hand and lead her to the bed. I struggle against the rising emotions of crushing her to me and never letting her go, but that'll only spook her, so I maintain a calm farcade and paste a smile on my face.

At first she silently questions me, raising a perfectly arched brow.

Princess. . . when will you learn to let go and trust me?

Her stubborn streak wears out after a few seconds and she shrugs and climbs onto the bed. I follow suit and draw her closely to me.

At first we stay this way, her face against my chest, none of us uttering a word, until I feel the vibration of her shoulders as I smooth down the stray tendrils of her hair. It worsens as she breaks down and begins to sob.

Where this would have irritated me with another woman, it does the opposite with Eve. I feel an overwhelming sense of protectiveness towards her. I decide not to say a word, instead I continue smoothing down her hair, hoping this would soothe her and lead her to eventually calm down.

I notice her hair has been released from the tight style it was wrapped up in when we first got here. It's also been recently washed. Now it's left to reign free in it's kinky state. It falls to her shoulders like a heavy black curtain.

I marvel at how thick and silky the strands are, as I twine some of it around my fingers. Instinctively I bend down to inhale it, and the strong fresh smell of my musky bath wash invades my nostrils.

For some wierd reason, it's begun to give my lil boy a raise.

And of course . . . she notices.

"Please tell me you're not having a hard on right now?" Her voice carries weighted surprise.

I chuckle and decide to fess up, because I clearly can't keep my shit together when she's this close to me.

"Seems you don't know the effect you have on me, princess."

I tip her chin and gaze into swollen, red rimmed eyes. Even in this state, she's still a beauty. Nothing can take that away from her.

It angers me that mama and that she - devil could want to hurt her, especially now that we barely just became an item. This angers me, pushing me to voice out my upset. "Don't you know how much we've fought to be together? Don't you know the shit that's gone down to keep us apart? Do you honestly think I'm going to mess it all up because of some hootchie that thinks she can waltz back into my life and pick up from where we stopped?"

She sits up, almost hitting me on the chin in her haste. "So you two dated?"

I mentally wince, but I've gotta come clean.

She deserves to hear the truth.

So I decide here and now to tell her how vile Roxy is, painting a picture and likening her to the devil himself.

Once I'm done downgrading her, I realise with rising pleasure that we'll definitely not be leaving for Lagos today. It's already 4 o'clock in the evening. I'll just have to face mama tomorrow instead. Although, being with Eve one more day is something I have mixed feelings about. I'm pleased we'd be alone and undisturbed, but on the other hand it could go awry, all because of what I'm about to tell her.

I just hope it won't make her see me in a different light, causing her to push me away.

That is a risk I will have to take, so I decide to push on, as I drop a bomb of explosives and hope to God it doesn't blow up in my face.

"She introduced me to the drug business."

Once the words are out, I feel a great relief. It actually feels like a boulder has been lifted, clear, off my chest.

And then I realise with a start, how this must sound to Eve.

Bad . . . very bad.

I swivel my eyes away from her face, sparing myself the accusing look I know I'll see in her eyes. As a protective shield, my mind instinctively waltzes to mama, once again.

I know Femi would do the needful and camp her at his place until I arrive tomorrow.

I just didn't know that she would still have Femi's address, after all this while. She made me give her the addresses of both Dipo and Femi awhile ago when she called, claiming she wanted to keep in touch with them. At that time, I found her request odd, but then I overlooked it and gave it to her.

I know she meant to surprise me by coming all the way from the U.S without informing me, but instead of going to my place, she must have decided to go to Femi's instead, thinking we'd be together.

What she didn't bargain for, was Femi being married. So me obviously camping out at his place and all the shit Dipo and I used to get up to on weekends there, is over.

Femi must have gotten spooked, seeing mama show up uninvited. When he was not able to get through to me on the phone, he obviously decided to drive her all the way down to Abeokuta.

What completely shocked me, was that mama would be bringing baggage with her --- Roxy!

How on earth she felt it was okay to journey with her to see me, beats the shit out of me, especially when she knows the crap that went down between us.

I shake my head now, sit up straight on the bed and mentally ready myself for the journey into my stormy past.

I sigh resignedly, still avoiding looking at Eve. "Earlier on, you told me not to continue talking about my past. Are you ready to hear it now?" I wait with bated breath as I stare straight ahead.

"I would very much like to hear it now, especially . . ." She lets the rest of her words hang, filling the air with meaningful silence.

Even though her reply didn't include a please, it clearly carried a supplication, a hidden plea for me to speak and tell all.

Who am I not to oblige her?

I hear your unspoken words, princess. I hear them loud and clear.

I decide to pick up the story from where I last stopped, grimacing when I remember all mama and I went through.

"After our shack got destroyed, Mama and I decided to leave town that night. There was nothing for us to hold onto in Sayulita anymore." The tightness in my chest is back and I realise with a pang that it would always be there. It's a feeling associated with my past and talking about it brings it rushing back, full time.

I steel my nerves and struggle on through the myriad of feelings of nostalgia and pain assailing me simultaneously. "We were dirt poor, you see, and with no money on us, no one would agree to take us to the nearest town, which was Tequila. I told mama not to bother begging any of the taxi owners to give us a ride. As young as I was then, I instinctively knew men would ask her for sexual favours in lieu of money and I didn't want that, so I told her we needed to do things my way. Mama discountenanced my words and approached the first taxi man. His eyes lit up as we approached, but when mama explained to him about our predicament, a snide look took over his features and he leered at mama."

I shake my head now, as the memory of his twisted face sails into my mind's eye. "Fortunately or unfortunately, I didn't get to hear what he said to her, because she covered my ears. Mama led me away, her shoulders quaking with tears. What was a young boy to do?" I pause, asking a rhetorical question, but then I continue when I feel the impatience oozing out from Eve.

"Well I did what any child would do, seeing his mama cry . . . except I was no ordinary child." I smile when I remember the plan I concocted. "I threw myself on the ground and began to wail. Mama's tears dried up instantly and she started begging me to get up, but did I? If anything, my wails became louder --- so loud, that they attracted the attention of a couple about to board the taxi. The woman approached us with concern in her eyes, and asked mama what the problem was. Mama stuttered and stammered her way through as she explained our dicey situation. When she was done, she stared down at her feet in shame. Without even knowing it, she had gotten into character. At that point, my wails reached a crescendo that rivaled any opera singer about to render their last echoing screech. The woman crushed me to her bossom in a warm hug and I clamped up, my tears drying instantly. Minutes later we were on our way to Tequila town, with the kind woman and her husband at the back seat of the taxi, while mama sat in front, with me on her lap. As I played with mama's hair, I grinned to myself contemplating what just happened. From time in memorial, people had been underestimating children, thinking us weak --- big mistake!"

I take a break from talking and take a peek at Eve. The look on her face is uncanny -- eerie, even. With the type of concentration she's giving me, I'm quite sure while she was in school; she aced all her papers, scoring high marks in them. She blinks when she notices me staring at her and a smile slips onto her lips. She nods as a sign for me to go on.

Seeing that I still have her full attention, I readily delve into the past, relieving every scene in my mind like its taking place anew.

Once the kind woman and her husband get to their destination, the taxi driver doesn't drive far before he kicks us out of his cab.

We get down and stretch our muscles which are stiff from sitting down for three straight hours. When I eventually take in our surroundings, sounds of fishermen calling 'ahoy,' filter to my ears. We are close to the hub of a busy sea region. I stand and stare at how occupied with their business, everyone seems to be. People have set up shop, peddling their wares all along the sea shore as far as the eyes can sea. Products sit on brightly - lit tables with the help of battery operated halogen lamps to enable people see and choose what they want.

Mum tugs insistently on my hand and I allow myself to be lead. We keep walking away from the traders until we come across a scattering of a small group of people. They stick out like a sore thumb with their pasty white skin and care free dressing. Add the facts that they speak English like their nostrils are blocked and you have a clear case of foreigners come to enjoy the sight, smell and sound of Tequila. We approach them with apprehensive looks on our faces.

What warms my heart, is, we don't even need to open our mouths before they take pity on us by offering us some money. I guess we look tattered enough to be mistaken as beggars, which is exactly what we are right now.

They hand us some food that looks like round bread with salad and meat embedded in the middle. One of them, the more jovial one, tells me it's called a hamburger. I almost eat the nylon bag it's wrapped in, when I find out it's finished. Seeing this, they laugh at me.

Once we are sated, mama and I find a quiet spot to sit and we stare out to sea, while holding onto each other. It's not long before we fall asleep, sprawled out on the cool sand.

When next we awake, the sun is blazing in the skies and the money the tourists gave us is missing. We were robbed while we were asleep. With no money on our hands and no means of survival, mama hunkers down onto the sand, crying and wishing for death.

It seems we are at the end of the road in our lives --- yet, I can't accept defeat. I leave mama crying her heart out on the sea shore, and approach some fishermen not far from us. At first I watch them for a bit --- two men struggling to haul in fish with their overloaded net. Then I approach them.

"Señor, permítame ayudarlo a transportar su pescado. Puede contar conmigo en cualquier momento que necesite ayuda". (Sir, let me help you haul in fish. You can also count on me whenever you need my help)

They gladly agree to my help. Quickly I get to work, helping them. It looks easier than done, though. This continues for the next one hour, after which it feels like my arms are almost about to cut off and I'm almost dropping to the ground in exhaustion. The fishermen smile their thanks and clap me on the back and hand me some money, informing me to come at the same time tommorow to help them.

This is how mama and I live for the next two weeks, with me hauling in fish everyday and my arms getting stronger. Luckily, when mama goes into town to look for work, she meets the same foreigners who take pity on her after she explains her plight, and employ her to cook and clean for the duration of their one month stay in Tequila town. They also give us a room in one of the four room bungalow they stay in, and still pay mama good money --- foreign money, they call dollars. Mama's face lights up whenever they give her money at the end of every day. Since we eat leftovers from what mama cooks for the three foreigners, she saves the money given to her, only taking out a little of it for our bare necessities. When she goes into town to change the money into pesos, I follow her.

Life becomes fairly easy for us, like a routine, it's quite mundane and uneventful, until one day when mama and I are walking back from buying some food supplies. We overhear the conversation of two people talking.

Something stops mama in her tracks when she hears the words --- a better life.

Man no. 1: Amigo, realmente necesito una vida mejor para mi familia y para mí, y ya no hay trabajo en la ciudad de Tequila. (My friend, I really need a better life for my family and I. There are no jobs here in Tequila town.)

Man no. 2 : Replies with a look on his face as he thoughtfully strokes his hairless chin. "Puede haber una salida." (There just might be a way out) I watch as mama waits with bated breath, for his next words. "America!" He finally exclaims.

Man no. 1 looks crestfallen and sighs. "Amigo, Estados Unidos es un país, qué pasa con eso?" (America is a country, what about it?)

Man no. 2 smirks gleefully and inches closer to man no. 1. "Estados Unidos es un lugar al que la gente va para una vida mejor. Te digo cómo llegar allí." (America is a place people go to for a better life. I can show you how to get there.)

I can't hear the rest of his words, because mama tugs sharply on my hands, drags me to the other side of the road and warns me to wait here for her and not to move an inch. I stare longingly at the two men who have begun talking and gesticulating animatedly. I'm upset mama doesn't want me to hear what they're saying. I know she's going back to have a chat with man no. 2.

I watch as she walks over to them, and greets them politely. I watch as they pause and look at her in shock. I watch as man no. 2 smirks, and then begins to full - on smile when she finishes talking. But I don't like how his smile looks.

After awhile, I loose interest in them altogether and stoop to play in the sand. Seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into quite a long time. When next I look up, dusk has begun to set, and then I see mama coming towards me with the first real smile on her face since papa left us. She has always been a beauty, but when Papa went away, her smile went with him. Seeing it lighting up and transforming her whole face now, makes my heart feel happy and light.

By the time she gets to me, she's full - on laughing. She takes me by surprise as she carries me up in the air and swings me around, all the while giggling. Her laughter is infectious and before I know it, we're both laughing and giggling on the streets, earning many curious looks from passers - by.

When she eventually puts me down onto the ground, I'm still quite dizzy and have to hold on to her for support. The last giggles peter off and she takes a hold of my face in between her palms. "Hijo! Dios finalmente ha iluminado su luz sobre nosotros." (Son! God has finally shined his light on us.)

I stare dumbly at her, not understanding what she's talking about.

"Nos vamos a América, hijo. Nos vamos esta noche." (We are going to America, son. We are going tonight.)

"Esta noche?" (Tonight?) I echo dumbly.

She bobs her head vigorously, the smile never leaving her lips. Something I know is, when mama gets something into her mind to do, she always sees it to the end.

I can't say her decision is good or bad. Either which way, that night, we find ourselves alongside ten other people, squashed inside a van surrounded by meat.

By the overhead light in the van, everyone's eyes glow with a feverish light ---- the light of freedom. People from neighbouring towns huddle together, exchanging their stories of woe.

It all boils down to one thing; there are no jobs in Mexico for the semi - skilled and unskilled. The opposite is the case in America. There is a high rise of people needed to work in factories, in homes as cleaners, cooks, as maids, and for the more bold one's -- mortuaries. They speak as if the jobs are waiting to be dished out to us once we get there.

What they don't say, is once we get there, we would be termed as illegal immigrants, running from pillar to post, hiding from the cops and living in fear of being caught and hauled into jail in preparation to be brought back to Mexico.

Not every one of us twelve got to America, though . . .

Two people died in the meat van.

I drag my mind back to the present, sighing as I remember it all.

Eve's feathery touch on my palm has siezed, so I glance at her, wondering if she's still listening.

What I see puts a smile on my face.

My princess is curled onto her side with her mouth slightly open.

She's fast asleep.