Jangolova (Part I)

September 27, 2013

There were 19 rooms in all.
Minus the bedrooms, living rooms and bathrooms, there were 5 other rooms.
As Isioma pulled the door of the indoor gym shut she let out a weary moan and trudged up the stairs. She stopped in front of the utility closet on the landing and deposited the cleaning items she had been lugging about the house within. The grandfather clock down the hall said it was quarter to one. She mopped her forehead with the back of her palm and sighed heavily. Martin and Izu would be home shortly.
When they arrived, she would take his coat and ask how his day was, he would say it was fine. She would take her 4-year-old son to his room nod while he prattled on about his activities in school and help him to change out of his school uniform. When that was done, she would return to the kitchen, to heat up lunch and serve her family. She would clean up after lunch, get dinner ready and soak the dirty dishes. After she was through with that, she would take Izu up, give him a bath and put him in bed. Then she would return to sit with Martin while he watched the evening news. When he turned in for the night, she would check to ensure she the doors were properly locked before retiring to bed. Come tomorrow, the cycle would begin again.
She was tired.
Tired from all the cleaning she had done in the house today, they once had two maids, a cook and nanny for Izu but she woke up one morning and decided to have them all fired
She needed the strain to make her feel alive. She felt empty; there was a hole inside her, each day it grew wider.
Martin did as she asked.
He did anything she asked without question.
Now, she was tired.
She trudged past the carpeted hallway and slipped into the master bedroom, Izu’s baby Tylenol was on the dresser; he had complained of a headache this morning. She figured it was another ploy to get her attention.
She did not have time for him these days.
She opened the container of Tylenol and drank straight from the bottle. It tasted like cough syrup; cherry flavor. She took another gulp then had an idea.
Running down the stairs, she made a beeline for Martins’ study.
On display in the cupboard behind his swivel chair was an assortment of drinks. She picked a vodka bottle, doubled back and made a left for the kitchen.
On getting in, she trotted to the worktable and snagged a mug from the rack. Ascending the stairs again, she returned to their bedroom and traded her work clothes for a bath towel and bedroom slippers.
Padding into the bathroom, she dropped her “loot” on top of the bath cabinet beside the sink, opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and stood on the tip of her toes to look for and select a bottle of aspirin. While she ran her bath water, it occurred to her that what she was about to do was wrong but she banished the thought from her mind.
She was dying inside; she could smell the decay of her flesh. She had been this way for so long that being alive was a faint memory. In the past, she was able to hide behind a beatific smile but she could not manage it anymore. She was in pain and wanted to end it.
She poured vodka into the mug, threw a palm full of aspirin into her mouth and washed it down with the vodka; drinking until the mug was empty.
She felt a burning sensation at the back of her throat.
The tap was overflowing; someone would have to clean the mess.
With towel, slippers and bottle of vodka, she clambered into the bathtub.

**********

Ivie waited and continued to wave until the car was out of sight. She turned around with a dreamy look on her face, caught her mother’s eyes and felt her heart slam into the wall of her chest with a thud. She was at the door. Waiting for her to come closer, she asked in an overbearing voice. “Who is that Ivie?” she looked down at her feet and answered. “He is Jason.” She added with a stammer. “My boyfriend.” Her mother surveyed her with piercing eyes. “Do you love this boy?” Still looking at her feet, she nodded. “Yes mother, I do. He loves me too.” She considered it for a second then spoke dismissively. “End the relationship. I do not want to see you with him anymore.” With that she made an about turn and strode into the house. Ivie stood rooted to the spot, shock flowing through her body at a loss for how to react. Slowly, she snapped out of the daze, shook off the feeling and ran after her mother remembering to bolt the door as she got in. she found her in the kitchen. “Mother, did you hear me? I said I love him. I will not break up with Jason.” Ignoring her, she picked up a newspaper spread it open and sat at the kitchen island which doubled as the dinning table Ivie did not move. After a while her mother closed the paper, folded it into two and used it to fan herself. “What do you do for a living Ivie?” taken aback by the question, she blinked several times before answering. “I am a teacher mother.” Her mother dropped the paper on the table and looked at her. “Correction; you are an underpaid secondary school teacher. You have no friends, no ambition and no future.” She unfolded the paper and spread it out again. “ Once you thought you could be more, you wanted to be better than me but then but you failed. I am all you have so you had better be grateful and stop acting obnoxious.” She eyed her scornfully. “Look at you, almost thirty and still living with your mother. Aren’t you ashamed? That so-called boy you are opening mouth to call boyfriend is too good for you. He is having fun with you. He will use you, drain you and leave you for a younger woman with more class.” Ivie threw up her hands, used her palms to cover her ears and let out a scream. “Stop it!” she dropped her hands and put her right hand over her chest as she continued she thought she was immune to her bitterness but she was not, her eyes misted with tears as she thought of her once sweet loving mother. “No mother, he wouldn’t! Jason loves me.” She darted to the living room and came back with her purse. Searching inside for something, she pulled out a pamphlet and placed it in on top the newspaper her mother was pretending to read. “Mother I do have friends and even though it doesn’t look like it at the moment, I have a bright future, me and Jason. I am supposed to be doing something, I feel it but I can’t seem to remember.” She pointed to the pamphlet. “This invitation is for me, I am going to Benin City to celebrate my 30th birthday.” She added uncertainly. “With my friends.” She swung the strap of the purse over her shoulders and made to leave the kitchen. Without looking up from the paper, her mother declared. “You’d do no such thing Ivie.” Something snapped within her; she had had enough. Feeling a surge of pent up rage, she spun around and stalked back to her mother. Furiously, she grabbed the pamphlet from the table and leaned down so they had eye contact . “Try and stop me.”

**********

She giggled and playfully swatted his fingers away. “Sesan you are such a naughty boy.” He dodged the onslaught, made a silly face and gathered her in his arms. Nuzzling her neck, he caused her to let out more giggles. After she had laughed uncontrollably for almost a minute, he stopped so she could catch her breath, released her from his embrace, and turned so he was kneeling straddled above her with hands pined on either side of her head. He planted a noisy kiss on her lips and asked. “So tell me, who is the best husband in the world?” she placed the index finger of her right hand on her chin, looked at the ceiling and studied it in concentration. “Erm, I’d have to think about that for a bit.” He made a buzzing noise. “Wrong answer.” He brought his hands to her side and began to tickle her again. Between peals of laughter, she managed to call out. “You are Sesan, you are!” he stopped tickling her, leaned to the side and stretched out his left hand to pick up the sheets that had fallen off the bed. Dragging them over his shoulders, he covered her as well and moved to lie beside her. Wrapping his left hand around her waist, he fondled her belly with his right hand and spoke softly. “So doctor Rukky, tell me. How was work today?” she rolled her eyes and turned to face him. “Now he asks me.” He feigned looking hurt. “I was going to get to that eventually. Cant blame a man for getting distracted by his really hot wife now would you. Sides, I was away for a month, I missed you.” He squeezed her in a tight cuddle and kissed her forehead. She brushed away her hair from her face, rubbing at the spot her kissed in the process. “You were away for two weeks Sesan.” He wriggled his shoulders. “Well, It felt like a month.” She rolled her eyes again and shook her head. “Work was fine, I accepted a party invitation on your behalf. It is a reunion for you and a couple of your friends. Sounds like fun, you are going.” He raised an eyebrow. “What party? I just got home; no way I’m leaving again.” With a snarling expression, she shifted to her back and faced the ceiling. “Check it out before you make a decision. The pamphlet is in the pocket of my blue jacket.” She pointed to the wardrobe. He let his finger trail from her throat to her navel then whispered sweetly. “Is this a ploy to get me out of bed?” he pinched her waist. Letting out a yelp, she rubbed the spot he attacked and pushed him off the bed. He landed on his feet, reached for his boxer shorts and pulled them on. Giving a mock salute, he spoke with a fake accent. “You have won the first round lady Rukky, I shall be back shortly for round two.” She gave a derisive snort, threw a pillow at him and reached for the magazine on the bedside table on her side of the bed. Sesan padded to the wardrobe pulled the door to her half open and reached for the first jacket he spotted. He searched the pockets until his fingers brushed against a piece of paper. Rukky looked up from the magazine she was flipping through and watched in horror as Sesan proceeded to open the scrunched up paper. She flew out of bed and made an attempt to snatch the paper from his hand. “No Sesan!” she pleaded. using one hand to block her, he laughed, stepped away from her reach and continued unfolding the paper. She turned from him and began putting on her discarded clothes. Sesan read the paper a look of confusion crossing his face then continued to stare at it unseeingly as his brain made sense of it all. It was a receipt dated 3 weeks ago for services rendered at a maternity clinic. There was a note scribbled on the reverse side. He read it out loud. “Its for the best my Rukichins, no regrets. Love, D.” he looked questioningly at her, waiting for an explanation.
She was fully dressed.
Standing in front of him, her face devoid of emotion she spoke flatly. “It wasn’t yours, he doesn’t want kids.” She took off her wedding band and placed it on the dresser. “I’m leaving you.” He let the paper slip out of his hand and fall to the floor. He stood and watched as she packed an overnight bag, walked out of the bedroom and their matrimonial home.
He spotted a brightly colored pamphlet sticking out of the pocket of her blue jeans jacket.
He had picked the wrong jacket.


.... To be continued