Days begin bright with the sun shining, clouds high up in the sky and the crackling of stretched bones. They conceal their plans, weaved in elements indiscernible by the spiritually immature minds of most humans sprawling all across the earth.
Tade struggled to raise himself from the bed, he hadn't slept all through the night. He likes it as such, but is always troubled about the weird weakness that usually slams him in the morning just before he gets up. He prefers siestas. "Serious work happens at night, when the soft hearted slumbers", he often says. So he spends his time in the theatre where he works, at home or at the club in the absence of work after which he comes home to think and write. There had been no work the previous night.
The plan for the day had been clearly outlined, a plan devoid of complications and ambiguities. A plan simple, straightforward and well spelt. That is how he had always lived his life, drafting out simple plans for each day the previous night. Some days stick to the plan, while others don't. These rebels just allow you start the day, believing that you are in control until they make everything swerve away unto an unexpected path.
Growing on the streets had given Tade the kind of life he enjoys, with all the accompaniments. Left to fend for himself at an early age by a father describable simply as unfortunate, he was driven into the darkest alleys; a source of the blackness which served as the cloak which he needed to escape plunging in the murky waters of those alleys. Traversing corners and corridors aimlessly most times had made him come up with the idea of having a plan for each day, no matter how small to avoid aimless wanderings.
Get out of bed - Get something to eat - Find peace. Tade always sticks to this plan, his "master-plan" he often calls it. Today seemed to be one of the perfect days for his plan. The playscript he had been working on all through the night was almost done, he couldn't finish. The first rays of the morning had filtered into his artistically adorned studio-apartment while he was still struggling to finish it. His head had suddenly began feeling foggy, and his sight appeared hazy. He couldn't align the denouement of the story to the general plot, it all seemed incomprehensible. He needed to clear his head. He needed to find himself.
Tade dragged his athletic unclad frame to the bathroom, with what seemed to be all the strength in his body. He opened the shower allowing the droplets of water trickle down his body, washing away hopefully his sins and all the alcohol from the previous night. He felt his heart pound against itself as he struggled to stand, resting against the wall for support. Time passed, he had no idea of how long it had been. Slowly he turned off the shower and shrouded with a towel, Tade exited the bathroom moving his frame this time to the kitchen. His body had began to gain strength, a surge of energy now streamed through him. I guess the pounding feeling was a good thing, he thought.
He had always liked the kitchen, since he could remember. The struggles for survival had brutally taught him one fundamental, never joke with your stomach. So he had learnt how to cook, at a very young age. Today however did not seem like the day for intense kitchen business, so he scrabbled eggs and toasted bread as hurriedly as he could. Tade took short strides to the bed, thanking himself within himself profusely for deciding to settle for a studio-apartment. The easy access to everywhere, and an all-seeing feel were amongst the reasons he had picked the house. He placed the meal by the bedside, moved swiftly than before to the wardrobe and slipped into a jean trousers and a polo shirt.
Returning to the bed, Tade settled down to his meal. As he took bites after bites, his mind began to drift away. He was walking through a vestibule that felt sinister and seemed to lead to somewhere unpleasant. His legs moved on their own, acting as if delighted to be where they were. Moving through this space and propelled by a force irresistible, his gaze falls upon the walls encoding the space. They were adorned with the most beautiful of frescoes he had ever seen. He smiled. Abruptly, his journey through this inexplicable place, a place that felt frightening and yet appeared beautiful seemed to stop. He opened his eyes, wondering when he had even closed them. His meal was finished and his phone, a flip Nokia was vibrating behind him. The screen of the phone displayed a new message notification. He wondered who it is, that has sent him a message. He wasn't expecting any and so he picked the phone reluctantly. The message was short and precise,
No. 5 Segun Adeniyi street, ultra palace. I'll be waiting, brother.
Tade stared at his phone, shaken. The message he had just read, heralded a series of pictures in his head.
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Sad about the absence of work to do the previous night, he had gone to the club to find what he seems to always been in search of – peace. He had drank and drank, and was in desperate need of something to smoke. Turning here and there, he searched for anything on him to ease the urge but couldn’t find any. His panic had started to reach it crescendo when he saw her to his far right, smoking. He didn’t think about all the possible consequences of going over to her. She could belong to anyone, and people detest sharing - especially in clubs. All that rammed at his brain was the consequence of not going, of not getting a smoke from her and that troubled his drunk mind. As he prepared to stand, he eyes turned towards the girl he had earlier sighted, was field with her approaching figure. She was coming. He wasn’t sure if she was coming towards him, but he prayed she was or he would stop her. He would yell at her, demand for a smoke and be unapologetic about it.
“Do I know you?” She asked, now standing at his front. She looked radiant with her catlike eyes piercing his, beneath the dancing lights.
He was transfixed, unable to find his tongue. Her question was packed with inquisitiveness.
“You have been staring at me for quite a while mister and I, I don’t like being stared at. ”
Tade stared on, appearing dazed with a plastered smile on. Unsure of what he was hearing, he heard himself say,
“I’d do anything to be with you.” The words had flown out before he could realize the gravity of his utterance. She had immediately replied him, pulling close a chair beside him and bringing out a pack of Bohem cigarette from within her.
“Well then, you could start by smoking this with me,” she said smiling and waving the pack of cigarettes in front of him.
From then on their conversation had moved from a variety of topics, to more drinking and then finally culminating into a trip to the alley behind the club. Their spirits had clicked smoothly. She appeared to posses a wild spirit, one which dug up Tade's demons that night. The cold was riding on the large wings of the night wind, sending cold air through the city. She had buried herself in his large arms, pushing him unexpectedly to a corner created by a discarded refrigerator against the wall. Her hands moved hungrily, desperately unbuckling and unzipping him. Tade had shoved himself into her mouth instantaneously, trying to take charge of the situation. They buried each other within themselves, sucking up the fragrances from their fleshes. He made the refrigerator lie horizontally, laid her on it and rode on, like when on a pony acquired with all of one’s earnings. After minutes of sweat mingling and intense breathing, they both arrive at their destination. There was a pouring from both of them leading to a transcendental feel. She climbed down from the mountain with deep breaths, managing to utter only a few words of contentment in-between. Tade turned to look at her, trying to see her face which glittered beneath the serenading moonlight. She turned her body, looked away and stood dressing herself up as fast as she could. He couldn’t understand the attitude.
“My name’s Tade. What’s yours?” He asks, only for his question to be met with a deafening silence. He ruminated on the reason for her actions and tried to think of something else to say, something that might draw her into what she seems to not want to get into. Suddenly, she started to sprint away from Tade. Drunk and drained of energy he had managed to chase after her. The street ahead was illuminated and populated from all angles; hiding within its population, shining neon and street lights, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She had left almost as unexpectedly as she came. No name, no identity. The thought of not knowing who he had just wholeheartedly fucked began to upset his stomach. Looking around desperately, still buried shin-deep in hope to see her, his phone had began to ring displaying an unknown number.
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Still staring at the message from his phone, more details from the night continued to trickle into his memory. He hadn’t slept at all, and so he wondered why the whole event of the night before seem to elude him. He continued to struggle for more memories, merging pieces to pieces hoping it all forms a whole no matter how small.
His brother had called him that night he remembers vaguely, apologizing and begging and crying. Tade had told him to save all the talk for when they meet, a meeting his brother had been pleading to have.
Their mother, Hajiya as she was often called had left their father when her twin children were 5years old. She had carried one child , and left the other for the husband to cater. Fortune had smiled on her, a smile generated by the efforts of her father and her industry.
Tade had persevered through the years, fending for himself. His brother despite wallowing in wealth appeared to have been conscious of Tade’s existence. His desire to meet Tade all these past years had been hindered by the agreement their parents had signed. Dead parents. Now his brother was glad they could be together, which is what vexed Tade. How would he have kept away, embracing the restrictions only to come back because their father and so-called mother was dead. But last night he had promised his brother a meet today, Tade remembered clearly now. He stared at the message once more, and it was even clearer this time. His brother had told him to expect the address to his home by today. The day as it appeared to Tade, had began to showcase itself once again.
The drive to his brother’s home had gone normal, devoid of any unexpected happening besides the usual drama by the city’s public transporters. Ultra palace, was a city within a city. A place harboring those who perceived themselves simply as – different. The streets were outlined with Victorian era street lamps, the houses intimidating with their general organization apparently planned. Tade wasn’t used to this kind of places. They reek of pretense, lies and deceit. Unlike what he was used to, the lack of orderliness and justice of the street. He stepped on the throttle, moving faster through the streets searching for the address. The hope that he wouldn’t find his destination had began to build gradually within him, he was getting sick of the environment. He made a left turn, making up his mind to go back home if he ended this street without locating the house. Then he saw it, standing proudly fourth on this new street. He cross-checked the address and was certain it is the right house. His car horn blared thrice before the gate opened. It was an automated gate, a realization he came to after coming out of his car only to see the gate push itself back to its previous position. The house was a large one, occupying almost a hectare. It was beautified with flowers, sculptures and a fleet of cars that made Tade’s Peugeot 307 look like a beat up. Standing in front of the house, his mind had began to walk out on him again; pushed by all it met. He violently had to drag it back in, in a desperate search for composure. The front door, large and heavy looking with the scary depiction of two fearsome lions crested on it began to open. Quickly, Tade moved to the door. It had began to open gently, until it was wide enough for a person to pass through. Tade didn’t know what to expect, but the face he saw next made him wish he had expectations. Expectations as thoughts it is said, could shape what happens to one in life. Noetic science. The person he saw sent shivers down the core of his being, standing there at the doorstep. He began to wonder again. Wondering why his mind seems to never give up on taunting him. Wondering if this was a dream, if he wasn’t there at all.
