Love That Never Dies

McOjo ‘Deolu

Copyright 2020 © McOjo ‘Deolu

All Rights Reserved

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Paperback ISBN – 978-1-7361413-1-1

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. Therefore, all characters, places, and events in the novel are spawns of imagination only and are in no way connected to any living person or event. Any resemblance to any person, an event, or any entity is purely coincidental.

Therefore, this book is sold on the condition that neither the publisher nor the author can be legally held responsible for the consequences of any error or omission or assumption there may be.

Proofread and Critique by Mercy Solomon Ganiyu creativeminds4good@gmail.com

Printed by Lovetons Media Press, Baltimore MD.

Published and Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

To Esther, whose love in my heart can never die.

One

It was evening. I came back from school like thirty minutes ago. I hastily dropped my bag on the dining table, a notorious habit of mine. Dad must not see it, but I couldn’t care less since he won’t be back until later. I was free to do anything I wanted. Free like a fart, dancing in the air and making people scamper away from the malodorous fragrance being let out from some untamed anus. I hurriedly threw my top on my bed and yanked off my skirt. My room is a mess, but I didn’t care. My cloth basket was full. I need to do laundry right now, but I'm still preoccupied with many things, and nothing in particular.

On the wall, the pictures seemed to take on a life of their own. Mum was looking at me with a wide grin and deep dimples. I was eight when we took the pictures. I still remember the day like yesterday. I looked like a miniature of her. Hmm.... Mum. It’s so sad that I will never be able to take another picture with her. I went to the wall and took one of the portraits off it. I examined it, running my hands over the rough edges, but I was only trying to look into mum’s soul. I kept looking into her happy face. I hope she is still happy now. I know she is. Yea, I know she is happy wherever she is now. I returned the portrait to the wall.

I refuse to be sad today. Mum is gone, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. I got to be happy no matter what is going on around me and within me, yet I couldn’t hold the tears back. Some drops rolled down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them off with the back of my hand. Not today, I chose to be happy. Mum is happy too. I must be strong. I am strong. I chose life over death. I chose peace and happiness... I kept saying those words that helped me over these months. The book granny gave me after mum’s death helped a lot. It helped me deal with her sudden passing.

After changing clothes and getting out of my room, I dropped onto the couch in the living room and picked the remote from the table nearby. I flipped a couple of channels, and nothing seemed interesting. I flung the remote across the room. It somersaulted on the chair onto the floor. I wasn’t interested in watching TV at this time because it was full of boring shows. No games either. I don’t play computer games at all, either on the phone or on the TV. Dad had an Xbox, but I can’t remember when last it was used. Stuff like that is for boys. My brother Isaac loves playing games. He was very good at it. I went back into my room. Then back in the living room and dropped on the couch.

I also had to keep my phone away for a while. I stretched out on the couch with a book I got from Chichi in school. Chichi is the walking library among us. The story is hilarious too. The story was about a man who found himself standing before God. His wife was standing opposite. Then God beckoned to the wife to speak. She went on her knees and accused the man of not carrying out his duties at home and what a bad man he had become. He transitioned from being useful to becoming bad. What a journey! She went on to describe how romantic the man was before they got married, whatever that means. Barely three years of marriage, the man started going after younger ladies and literarily abandoned her. She had to beg him for her husband’s duty from time to time. Hmm, husband’s duties. I understand and nodded. They think we are too young to know what is going on.

She complained that she was at the fringe of committing adultery, which was why she petitioned the court of God. He used to hug me, call me honey every minute, and cook with me. He used to buy me flowers and many gifts. It’s like I committed a crime by marrying him. He just changed, just like that.

Then God turned to the man and asked,

Is that true? Of course, no one dare tell a lie in the presence of God. He opened up and said when they were courting, the wife was not like this. She was stunning.

She was one of the most beautiful persons you can see. Her hair was always neatly done. Her clothes were beautiful. She could make any man fall in love with her, but as soon as we got married, she started expanding in all directions and is now four times her previous weight. Now, her hair is disheveled most of the time. She just nosedived like a kaput helicopter and went from being good looking to something I can’t describe, he had said.

I am less attracted to her because of her appearance. She needs to take care of herself as she used to do before we got together. When I come into the house, she doesn’t look good at all. Men at her office see a better or more pretty her than I do. The man said in defense.

Ha-a, you expect me to look like a teenager after giving you, four beautiful kids? Don’t you know that childbearing comes with a huge price, and we both have to pay it? I’m not the only one who will pay the price. The woman snapped.

Is that the reason you cannot take care of your appearance when at home? Do you fly your hair in the office unkept? You think I want to come home to my grandma? The man countered.

This back and forth continued. Both were fuming and trying to prove his or her point.

Do you help at all around here? Is it not sitting on the couch and reading stale news all you do when you get back from work? When last did you join me in the kitchen as you used to do? She shouted at him.

Well, you don’t need my help. You got four great kids...

God looked at them and said...

Then the man woke up... The story continued, but I was lost in thought, or to better put it, I didn’t know where I was.

Then I saw mum helping John with his homework. She was trying to calm him, but he just wanted to play with her hair. Mum had long hair, like grandma.

Mum, are you going to help me too, I asked.

No, mum, she is big. She can do it by herself. John said. He made a big face and shot the tongue at me.

If I catch you, I stretched out my hand threateningly at him. He made more faces and the tongue. I was mad, but mum cautioned him.

We’ll get to you, darling, she said. I walked away to the kitchen to find something to eat.

*****

It looked like a Saturday morning. I couldn’t tell what time it was. I didn’t know when he came in. Dad took me by the hand and said we were going to the Lekki beach. I hurriedly dress up in my swimsuit, one of the pairs that dad bought for Tolu and me. It’s been a while we went out together, so I was very excited. The drive was fun too, but we hardly talked. I wanted to lower the window and let the wind ruffle my hair, but I didn’t. Dad might complain that the AC was on, and the window, well, shouldn’t be down. As the car sped along, still we hardly talked. We just had short sentences like a couple amid an unresolved fight caused by who should sleep on the right side of the bed in the new house. The right side was facing the oceanfront. The man wanted that, and the wife insisted she must have it.

How was school? How were your friends? He asked one after the other and pressed my left palm in his with a firm grip. Usually, that was his way of saying I love you. He hardly utters those words these days, but sometimes, he says them often without so much as to look at my face. That’s how I measure his happiness from time to time. This is what I call his happiness gauge, like a barometer or wind vane. Like, I might call Tolu and