The Seven-Year Orgasm III
In two years the young Adeyemis were blessed with a beautiful girl who had her mother’s exotic looks but, after a time, began to exhibit her father’s sensitivities and attitudes.
Three years after that, they welcomed a boy who couldn’t have been his father more had Segun spat him out. Brave, quiet and opinionated, he was the one that finally broke the barrier of silence between Tiwa and her mother in law. And for a while, Segun was a happy man.
And so seven years passed. Good things come to an end; however.
Yorubas have a saying; ‘If a lie goes on for twenty years, one day the truth will catch up with it’. The day Tiwa’s truth finally came knocking was just another day.
No one knows what happened. Maybe she forgot to do something she had done every day for the past seven years. Maybe her mother-in-law’s prayers were finally answered. Maybe God decided it was enough. Whatever it was happened.
The day started well enough. Segun spent some time with his kids, arguing with Yanju over Ben 10 and then guiding her through the most of Temple Run. After a while of her repeatedly falling and blaming it on him, he left her alone and went to walk with Damola through the house – guiding the loquacious baby past a few obstacles.
After a while the older man’s hand began to weary the younger man’s so Damola yanked his hand away from his father’s. And then, grinning happily the boy retraced his father’s steps, looking at the man as though to say You’ve been dulling me – you’re old and slow jo!
I’m proud of you; Segun said and then winced, touching tentative fingers to the left side of his head.
Are you okay darling? Tiwa asked, nuzzling his neck as she enveloped him in her arms and scent. Segun silenced her.
Sure I’m fine. I suddenly want to drive around for a bit –
A vague expression – similar to the one stuck on Keanu Reeves’ face settled on Segun’s features as he closed his eyes as though he was trying to bring something on the edge of his consciousness to the front of it. But the thought slipped away and he looked at Tiwa with clear eyes.
Do you need anything? He asked, before thoroughly kissing her again.
It was a ten-minute drive from their apartment in Shoprite. Within moments he was wandering up and down the aisles, checking a list covered in Tiwa’s flowery handwriting.
He got to the last item, and as he checked to see he’d bought it a small note caught his eye.
I don’t deserve you, Segun.
Thank you for loving me.
The opposite of a smile creased Segun’s features almost the same time a pounding migraine announced its presence forcefully. The list fluttered down from nerveless fingers as Segun clutched his head and bent over.
Suddenly he was jostled out of his pain as someone bumped into him heavily from behind.
Straightening with the wrath of Sango in his heart, Segun spun and opened his mouth to address the unfortunate ‘bumper’. But four random pieces of information leaped at him as he took his first good look at the object of his vex.
One, she was a woman.
Two, she was a very attractive woman.
Three, she was a heavily pregnant very attractive woman.
Four, she was a familiar heavily pregnant very attractive woman.
Hauwa…? Segun began but couldn’t finish before what he thought was a migraine became a hailstorm as Sango beat down the walls barricading his subconscious mind.
And then he stopped with the abruptness of power failure. And Segun looked at Hauwa as though seeing her for the first time in a long time.
Hauwa…? What are you doing in Abuja? And when did I plant that in there? He asked, pointing to her tummy, all traces of his migraine gone.
Hauwa stopped herself from speaking words expected of anyone – any woman who had ever been in her position. Instead she eyed Segun with disdain, noting how the smile dried up on his face – and then she suddenly registered the first part of his query. Abuja.
Yes na, Segun answered, smirk lighting up his face. Abuja –
Suddenly he shook himself and wiped his face like a man waking up from a bad dream. What am I doing in Shoprite?
Silently Hauwa pointed to the trolley standing at Segun’s elbow. He looked into it and flinched at the sight of all the children’s things stacked inside it. That baby’s too small to use stuff like these, he blurted.
Hauwa slowly bent over and picked up the list Segun had dropped earlier. You’re not shopping for this baby, Segun. You’re shopping for your kids – all two of them.
The hand Segun had been extending for the note recoiled. What?
Your kids. She said firmly, slamming the note unceremoniously against his chest as she walked past. Automatically he held it against his chest, eyes following her. And then he looked down at the note, blinking as the gleam of a gold band across the fourth finger of his left hand flashed across his vision.
Hauwa, hurrying quickly, scrubbing her eyes and hoping Segun did not follow her froze as she heard her name. It wasn’t as much as the call as the way it was called. It was a voice she knew yet one she did not recognize.
It was heavy with fear.
She turned on her heel and faced him.
Hauwa; the ‘old-man-croak’ came from his throat again. Hauwa, who did I marry?
Maami you look older were the first words Segun uttered when the senior Mrs. Adeyemi opened the door almost an hour later. The older woman froze, and then with a mother’s instinct understood the implication of those words. She hugged her son, tears started from her eyes. Hauwa beamed.
The senior Engineer Adeyemi’s mouth worked as hard as the Shoprite double doors in rush hour, opening and closing at will. At some point he laughed, at some point he cried, at yet some other point he just sat there as his son shamefacedly admitted that the last thing he remembered was sex with Tiwa, one lonely night during their training in Abuja.
Seven years ago.
Seven years ago! Engineer swore fire and brimstone. He called down the wrath of his twice-gone ancestors and asked Mujin the gateman to bring him his ‘pana’.
His ‘cutlass’ in English.
Mrs. Adeyemi Snr grabbed his arm and held on for dear life, tears streaming down her face. My dear, violence is not the solution now o. We have to be careful. Are you not a deacon?
Hauwa had told Segun to call Tiwa and make up a story about a home emergency, so she wouldn’t be worried no matter how late he returned. Now Segun sat in his parents’ home, looking at his children’s pictures on his phone and feeling as though he was looking at someone he was meeting for the first time.
His mother sat beside him, looking at his face like she was afraid he was going to vanish again. She talked to him about his children; how amazing and loving they were, she spoke about his wife; grudgingly admitting that she was a good wife.
But mama – I cannot remember getting married to her! Seven years of my life are gone from my memory – just like that!
In emphasis he snapped his fingers.
I knew there was something not right about the whole thing. I always assumed you were going to marry Hauwa or somebody else – so when you showed up with her I was shocked.
I took you to my room and pleaded with you not to go ahead. Next thing I know, you were in front of a car bleeding from the head. His mother sighed. I nearly died that afternoon.
Segun rubbed Hauwa’s hand gently. Who’s the lucky guy who got you?
Her lower lip trembled and she bit it deeply. His name is Maurice and he’s a great guy. It’s just been three years – this is our first; she finished, rubbing her belly gently. Segun looked away.
What do you plan to do now my son? Adeyemi Senior asked.
Tiwa was a light sleeper so she was therefore surprised when she opened her eyes and found Segun sitting on the side table looking at her. You scared me, she said. Is everything okay with mum and dad? What time is –
She broke off as a gleam from Segun’s left hand caught her eye.
It is time for the truth, Tiwa. Segun said grimly.
What did you do to me? Why am I married to you?