Chapter 33 LOOK ALIKE

SEGUN

You know that stir - crazy feeling you get when you've got too much time on your hands?

Well I got it big and I got it bad!

At such dreary times, the past came calling --- it came calling hard. I didn't like that.

Thoughts of yesteryears swung back and forth in my mind like a pendulum let loose. It wasn't pretty.

Add my tightly - strung up emotions to that equation and you have a man running very low on patience.

It got so bad on certain days, I thought I'd get cut into little pieces from the exhaustion of it all.

Ever since I left Deuce, I'd been doing literally nothing, and I mean that in every sense of the word. It's something I've never been used to, at least not since I came to Nigeria.

Since I'm not on a time schedule anymore, this left me with way too much time on my hands and a feeling of emptiness --- an emotion I hoped I'd never experience again.

The only thing that made sense and filled up my time, was when I was working with Dipo.

He got the brunt of my nervous excess energy. When the tension got too high, I'd snap at him just because I could. This resulted in him snapping right back. Then it'd turn into a bout of who could snap better at each other.

It would fizzle out when we got together with Femi for drinks. Everyday, like clock work we'd get some liquid courage into our systems.

Drinking alcohol always made everything better, truth be told.

During such drinking sessions, women weren't spared from our machinations.

Actually, they weren't spared from Femi's machinations.

Dipo and I sat back and watched him go through them like toilet paper, making me wonder not for the first time why he got married, and how he hid it so well from Fiku.

Shit's definitely gonna hit the fan when that one finds out, that's for sure!

At such moments, Dipo'd act like a wilted plant that had been cut off at it's base.

He'd keep to himself, smoking Mary J and wondering what the heck he was doing at the club without Ebere. Those two were like twins joined at the hip.

If a woman happened to catch his eye, I'd remind him --- actually I'd tell said woman, that he had a leash and that leash happened to be a woman waiting back at home for him.

Most times it amused them, other times, it disgusted them.

And I --- hmm. I sulked in the corner of the club, drinking and smoking, watching women giving me the eye as I struggled to get thoughts of Eve out of my mind. It was tedious at best, because I unknowingly compared her to every woman that passed by --- from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, none of them held a candle to her.

So there I'd sit, images of her playing like a loop, over and over again in my head.

Little wonder I did what I knew how to do best --- drown myself in alcohol, a vice I didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

But did it help?

Let's just say it was an exercise in futility.

I decided to turn to my next best vice --- slap skins with a woman. I needed to do this so as to rid her out of my mind, if only for the time being.

That woman, happened to be Chioma.

She took all of me and she took it rough.

Talk about ride or die . . .

I rode her like my life depended on it.

Standing.

On all fours.

Perched on the bed's edge.

The more taxing the position, the rougher and harder I plunged.

But did that deter her?

Shit!

I wish it did.

Instead, she clung harder to me, like poisonous tentacles sinking themselves inside me, and I felt trapped.

I'm so sick and tired of reminding her black ass all the time that what she thinks we've got is just a passing phase for me, so I've taken to blocking her number when I don't need her and unblocking it when I do.

Works just fine for me.

*

Day by day it gets impossible to cope with, I feel I'm the one that's doing dope. Can't keep a steady head 'cause I'm nervous.

"Ah Crap! Scar face, shut the fuck up." A scowl forms on my face as I turn the stereo off.

Unfortunately for me, turning it off doesn't stop the words from bouncing around inside my head.

As I drive into Dipo's street, thoughts of my ma begin to take precedence and I gladly welcome it, as well as the guilt.

It'd been, what --- seven long years and counting, with little or no communication.

She was always working, and until recently, so was I. The time difference didnt help either.

Her mornings were my afternoons and the reverse was the case.

When we eventually got to speak with each other, she was either too tired to talk for long or I was too drunk or too busy running around Mr. Fucking Faseun.

Thank goodness all that's changed, now that I'm on my own.

I'm across the street of his house, about to swing into his driveway when Dipo pulls up in his car. He comes down from it, muttering unintelligible words under his breath as he turns round to the passenger side and opens it.

I'm about to horn to make my presence known, when someone jumps down from the passenger side of his car.

First thing I see are slim legs.

My eyes lift up, taking in the small frame of a girl, dressed in a uniform.

She's chattering non stop, words I can't hear but can only imagine.

She keeps jumping on the balls of her feet, her nervous energy catching on to me. I watch as she leans close to Dipo, whispering words into his ear. He throws his head back and laughs heartily in response to whatever she said to him.

And then she turns round . . .

And the world tilts out of proportion.

Icy cold finds its way into my rapidly beating heart, numbing it.

It can't be . . .

Yet . . . the proof is staring me in the face.

That face --- her face.

I'd know her face anywhere, even with my eyes closed.

Seems like she's staring at me, piercing into my very soul, but then she turns right back around and continues chatting, flicking her long braid away from the side of her face as she clutches tightly onto her rucksack.

The same mannerisms.

The wind practically gets knocked out of my lungs and sweat pools on my forehead.

I close my eyes now, willing to get my erratic heart beat under control, but the past doesn't seem to want to let me go --- It keeps hanging around my neck like a noose.

It's called the past for a reason. It's meant to stay forgotten . . .

Yet it haunts me relentlessly.

"Are you just going to stand there watching me hold onto this heavy rucksack. Come on help me hold it, your arms are way bigger, compared to my much smaller one's."

The banging of the car door startles me, anchoring me back to the present as my heart picks up feverishly once again, knocking around violently in my rib cage.

Indentations appear on the steering wheel from where I'd unknowingly clutched it.

I resume watching them as she loops her hand inside Dipo's and they both walk towards the house, leaving me gaping at their retreating backs.

A breeze plays with the edges of her uniform, threatening to lift it up.

She smooths it down with her left hand, the other still firmly ensconced in Dipo's, but the breeze is something fierce. It's on a mission to play, so she let's it and it resumes it's machinations, lifting up her dress, showcasing black tights underneath, as she and Dipo both disappear into the house.

Roxy?

No!

Can't be. . .

Unless she's drunk some magic elixir to make her look younger.

More like . . .

Dipo's daughter.

The realisation stings me to my bone marrow, as jealousy begins to play a falsetto inside me.

Why the fuck am I jealous?

She was a no - do - gooder tease who used pleasure for the fun of it.

No no, I've gotta let her go!

Some tension ebbs from my body as I start the car once again, making sure to park beside Dipo's Jeep.

But instead of getting out and going inside, I sit, trying to collect my thoughts and put my mind in perspective.

How long I stall, I have no idea.

All I know, is I'm not in a hurry to see Roxy's child, the one she had with Dipo.

That child could have been mine.

But I dodged a bullet.

And it caught Dipo, instead.

I'd made sure to steer clear of seeing Dipo's daughter all this while, only visiting when I knew she wasn't around.

I don't need any more reminders of her mother.

The resemblance between them is uncanny --- off putting, even.

And I'm not ready to be jolted that way again.

Willing myself to get out, I do so grudgingly, feeling like a dead weight's around my shoulders.

"My man!" Dipo sings as he latches his gaze on me. Mine keeps bouncing around, searching for a face I don't want to see.

She's a reminder of all things bad.

But of course I can't tell that to Dipo. He'd hate me for sure.

I already hate myself as it is.

I slump into one of the seats across him, as I feel my heart beat settling into a more calm pace.

"Excuse me, sir!" Dipo's housekeeper materialises by my side and I almost jump out of my skin.

How she came so close without me noticing, leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

When did I become this skittish?

" --- will you take?" I didn't realise she had been addressing me.

Dipo laughs like a hyena and I eye him annoyingly. "Uh. . . nothing, thanks." I smile tightly at her and she nods and walks off. I train my gaze back on Dipo. "You're an ass you know. You coulda given me a heads up." I huff.

"You should have seen your face, man. It was the icing on the cake." He titters, still clearly amused by my reaction.

"Dad, can you --- "

That voice.

The same chirp, same syrupy tone as her mother.

It makes me feel faint.

I search for her, but her form is veiled, swathed in darkness . . .

Until she moves into the light.

It washes over her face, bathing it in an eerie glow. I'm taken aback at the similarity between her and Roxy.

Roxy . . .

Again, with her.

She smiles shyly when she see's me.

She's changed out of her uniform and into a dress, looking every inch like the little girl she is.

"Good afternoon, sir!" She dips one knee in a fluid movement, curtsying beautifully.

Great manners. Great upbringing.

She's nothing like her mother, Dipo has made sure of that. Yet here I am, acting like a mouse around an innocent little girl.

Fucking insane!

Tell me why on earth I'd be afraid --- okay, wary of her.

It's what she stands for that's got my knickers in a twist, obviously, I reason with myself.

"How are you?" I respond, none too soon, a tight smile replacing the skittish look on my face.

Her smile falters, but steadies, as she responds and swiftly turns to face her father, chatting non - stop.

My thoughts skitter everywhere, losing focus of what she's talking about . . .

Until I hear Dipo replying, and I force myself to listen.

"Baby girl, daddy isn't a maths guru, I can't help you with your maths homework, you know it. Unless. . ." He turns to me and warning bells sound off loudly in my head. "If you ask this nice sir here, I'm sure he'll help, right, kind sir?"

No damn way, you liar!

My mouth becomes like cotton wool and my blood runs cold. Dread claws it's way into my throat causing an itch, one I won't be able to get rid off by a mere scratch.

I stare back at them, mouth agape.

Roxy's daughter stares back, her eyes big, innocent and round, an imploring look on her face.

Does he actually expect me to help her --- Roxy's daughter?

His daughter . . . their offspring.

She takes tentative steps towards me and then I notice the hard back exercise book in her hand.

No way!

I can't do this.

I bolt up from the chair, only to hear Dipo's voice, like a whip - crack on my back.

"The king! Time to make good on your promise, remember?"

That damn promise!

And I slump back into the chair I just recently vacated, weakness taking over my limbs.

I nod dumbly, flicking my wrist, indicating her to come closer.

Minutes later, with my nerves stretched taut and the maths equations solved, she skips happily away like a seven year old she is, leaving a silence so profound it's jarring in its intensity.

It seems she's taken all the gaiety away with her.

Silence stretches awkwardly and I wait, bracing myself for what I know is about to come next --- a lecture.

Dipo sighs, and I understand he's trying to choose his words so as not to get snapped at by me.

"You need to let go of the past, Segun." This time, I know he's going full throttle with the absence of my nickname. "Stop beating yourself up about it, I should be the one getting upset, but look at me." He throws his hands out expansively in a show of abandon. "I'm here and I'm thriving. I'm thriving hard and giving it my best shot with ---- "

"You don't understand." I cut in, "she ---- "

"Roxy, Roxy, Roxy! That what you were going to say?" He rushes on, not waiting for me to interject. "For someone who is a self - acclaimed play boy, you're awfully sensitive. I'm the one who was fucked over, by you."

He stabs the air in my direction with his index finger and I watch in horror, as he spills words he's never before voiced, words I hope will not break our friendship, most importantly, our business together.

"Did you think I never knew you slept with her the same night she became my girlfriend? Or did you think I didn't know you kept right on sleeping with her all throughout our so - called relationship? Or did you stop to think even, that I always knew that she knew that I knew, yet she didn't give a hoot? And to top it off, you both did it repeatedly under my nose and my roof, too. I knew everything, because she told me. She taunted me with it, every chance she got."

At this juncture, my mouth hangs open. "But how --- ?"

"Oh! How are we still friends till this day? Easy --- you were just a pawn too. She used you just as she used me, too."

"But, why?" I stand up now, aghast at this new revelation. "I don't understand." My beard itches me, and I absentmindedly scratch it, a reminder that I need to shave. But that is the least of my problems now.

Right now I need closure with the past. Something I'd been unconsciously seeking for quite some time now.

How many times I pace in front of Dipo is lost on me. The plush carpet becomes worn beneath my feet.

How could this be?

He knew, yet he said nothing.

Roxy was a great tease, and a terrible flirt.

Something makes me turn to address him. "Did you also know she was ---- "

"Sleeping with everyone a mile away? Yes, I knew." He interjects, shrugging and looking like he's made his peace with it.

But his words have eroded mine.

"You knew she slept with the drug lords in my area, too?" I ask incredulously, doubt creeping into my mind and heart.

He nods and shrugs again. "I knew everything, including what she tried to do to you."

It can't be.

He knew, yet he said nothing --- did nothing.

That was the turning point for me.

And it suddenly clicked.

He did nothing because he wanted me to get punished. My reward for sleeping with his girlfriend.

My limbs become weak as I slump back into the chair for the second, maybe third time.

I could forgive all her excesses, but I could never forgive what she did to me --- never!

When Dipo comes close, I don't know. His hand on my shoulder is like a soothing balm to my skin.

"It's all over 'The king'. Be free to live, be free to thrive, be happy. I forgive you. It's all over." He probably doesn't realise it, but he sounds like some wise sage, telling his disciple to live again.

Funny enough, the words he pronounced act like a salve on my injured heart, unknowingly closing up sore wounds, wounds I'd been inflicted with for some long years now.

And just like that, the past is forgotten, never to be dredged up again.

I hope it will remain so.