Table of Contents

+ Add to Library

Previous Next

Chapter 11 Love victims

  • Grandma leered at Brian who was having his backpack across his shoulders. She knew he wasn’t happy; the hostile looks on his face spelt it. Earlier she had pacified him by leading him to the garage to make a choice of car, which henceforth would be his car. He had seen a Chevrolet and Tony and Kate struck in his head, afterwards he had uncovered a certain car which was Ford. Grandma gave him the keys and he found his way to school.
  • Starting school was his rebirth. He was going to plan his future in Miami- even if it wasn’t in Miami, somewhere else far from home; far from spite and accusation. Running away wasn’t his trick of avoiding Kate, it was his fate. They were never meant for each other and if really they were it was short lived. He perceived Kate would be spiting him on the streets, school and wherever his name was mentioned. The neighborhood was gullible and they would believe her hook line and sinker. It would be impossible for anyone to be loyal to him as the pioneer of neighborhood watch because of the state of gun violence at the time. No one would hear his own side of the story. All hands would be ready to cast a stone at him or mob him whenever he was seen around the hood. Escaping was as essential as his safety. He saw the ruin in her eyes and her hostile face shot him a million times, not with a street dude as Tony being her lover; assurance of a knife slitting his throat wasn’t far-fetched. He wanted a cool yet new beginning. It was unruly to fix what couldn’t be fixed. He smiled as he embraced his new beginning – in this beginning he would keep low and be a spectator; he wouldn’t overshoot but shoot; love wouldn’t be negotiable and admirers would be seen as Kates. He had only one door to love and it had been shut with its key swallowed by a beast. He cursed himself for being too quick to love; too quick to fight for love and protect its course. He had never loved in his entire life. Most times he sat to wonder why first times of everything in his life took a deceptive shape.
  • Every weekend grandma indulged Brian in an elated way; they made it to the museum and state of the art resort centers. Thereafter they hired a yacht to have a lunch of intercontinental Spanish recipes.
  • “You know my greatest fright is love,” grandma related to Brian in the course of their lunch.
  • Brian paused to understand her assertion. Ella had mentioned a bit about protecting her men, which he judged to be jealousy. He put his ears down while she spoke, trying to catch the real gist which Ella never told him.
  • “I used to be the eyes of the boys. Every boy in my time wanted a bite of me. Every day I walked around in this consciousness, seeing boys with affluent and class bawling to have me. Nothing gladdens a woman’s heart than the consciousness of men craving for her. Don’t you know that most women spite themselves each day that passed without a man looking in their direction? She exposed a smile then a frown as though she was about saying the most annoying thing in her life. “At the time I was courting my husband. He was in the US marine. My parents despised him to the path he stepped on. I would be cheerful but whenever he came around my gloomy day would begin. Because of the drama my parents pulled through. When I consulted them to tell me the reason for the hate they couldn’t point to a thing. It was a more rigid decision which they felt would weigh me down but then their instinct had a blurry picture of us. Poor me I was in love with the cutest and one of the richest marine senior officers in town. I was so into him that no day passed without getting down with him. My essence was his existence. We promised each other to stand for what true love stood for, to raise high the banner of love and show the world how to love. We were obsessed but not forever. Six months after our wedding he went for a duty on the sea and never returned. I approached his office to know if any of the US marines that went to the sea were attacked by pirates or some sort of enemies. I was told the full party of soldiers that were on sea were hale and hearty. Shattered, I was dying and depreciating as vapor. A year and beyond he never phoned or appeared from the blues. From shrewd insight I knew I was on a lonely path. The man I worshipped had played on me and abandoned me to fate. I was ashamed to return to my parents, whose decisions I flouted and followed love. My health kicked into deterioration. I was all pale and losing pounds. In the course of my predicament I wrote him several letters but got no reply. I was sick to death worst still the endless sickness crazed even my doctor and family. Soon I was diagnosed of HIV and AIDS. This was rooted to my run-away husband. I would not forget my lonely days in HIV and AIDS patients’ class, and the self-hate that possessed me. Every day I numbered my days and breathed to my grave,” she cleared her throat and gulped her wine, leaving Brian to stare to stare her wrinkled throat. “Suddenly I had a miracle. You young folks are yet to understand that genuine love is a miracle. Any ways how would you understand when sex, sex, sex and sex is your worship. My late husband, the vine of my heart, Late Maxwell, the one crafted by heaven’s love engineers came into my life and paddled my boat to newness. He was HIV and AIDS negative and when he got to know of my status he stuck around and loved me like a pro. He had the license to love and gave me same. I started seeing life afresh; a spring of gratitude and excellence came under my feet. Although we fell short of the grace of making children yet with him I had all the deficiencies of love. I am sorry to say we adopted your mom. We built this farm empire from scratch and on his death bed he left me a note; ‘true love; my purpose of existence.’ She brought out a torn creased piece of paper and showed Brian to behold the paper with his last words. “Recently I consulted the expertise of a diamond company. I want it in letterings of diamond which I’ll insure.”
Locked Chapter