The Dead Trust

"I don't think I will remarry" Kunle who was boiling with anger affirmed to Yemi and Mustapha who were pacifying him to accept his wife back. Kunle, a good looking young man of 37 years old, was a motor dealer. It was very luculent that he spoiled his wife, Christiana, with all he had. He loved her so much and promised her to make her happy in every facet of life. They were very young in love. Though the marriage had clocked one year and six months, but they were still a childless couple . Anyway, they still have chances to bear kids. Age was still on their side.

Christiana was a born, seasoned seamstress. She had made many beautiful, bespoke dresses for her customers. Her office was a few kilometers to her house. It was Kunle that got it for her so that she could return home ahead her hubby who closed in the office in the evening. He liked dinning thirty minutes after his returns.

As days metamorphosed to weeks, weeks transformed to months, Kunle had noticed that his wife was keeping late at work. Probably she had started keeping bad companies, he thought roughly. He was on his favorite sofa in the living room that evening, waiting for Christiana to arrive from her shop. He read his wristwatch and the time that occurred to him was 7:30 p.m. His eyes had turned red. He was getting apoplectic. Swiftly he stood up, holding his waists as if he was ready to attack her upon arrival. Could he kill? Kunle was too soft to kill a rodent let alone a human being. After all, she was his wife. The only thing he could do is to hit her, probably in her face as to deface her beauty.

He heard a knock from the door. Kunle did not hear the gate opened, so this knock surprised him. It was Christiana. She entered and padded like a cat that wants to catch a rat. She fell on her knees before him with reverence. "It was one customer that refused to collect her dress she has given two weeks ago" she explained. Kunle was reading her beautiful face with long eyelashes that enhanced the beauty. He needed to act like a man. He must take control of his wife. He berated and warned her never to repeat that. "Tell any customer that wants you to work beyond official hours that you have husband to prepare supper for" he added, pulling his ears as if he wanted to yank them off. She promised him that she would not let it reoccur. He was relieved and disappeared into the bedroom.

"I want to travel to Lagos tomorrow" Christiana informed her husband as she leaned her head on his hairy chest. She liked playing with his chest. It is not that his chest was enormous but smoothly hairy. She loved that and he too was aware of that. Now, it's a weekend. She could even uproot some hair. The last time she did that, a soft moan escaped his lips. She laughed too.

"For what?" He posed a question to her. Christiana was surprised that he had forgotten what she had just told him three days ago. She quickly remembered that he had told her to be reminding him of anything she wanted from him. So, she reminded him of the day she had told him before.

"Ooh! I'm sorry" he apologized, raking her attachment.

It was ten in the morning and the dawn was bidding its farewell. Christiana had packed her small side-bag and was ready to have her way to the motor park. Kunle perused his wife. She is very beautiful in the elegant pink dress she donned. "What, babe?" She knew he was examining her. He advanced towards her and clung to her. "You have stained my lips" she complained after some minutes in kisses. He cleaned his lips with his white handkerchief. "Let's go babe" she said, carrying her bag. He ushered her to the park. As soon as they reached the pack she mounted the available bus. She was the last passenger as if the bus was waiting for her. Kunle told the bus driver to drive carefully and left the park when the bus zoomed off.

Christiana was back to her husband's house three days later. That was not the day she promised him that she would travel back. She had added a day. Kunle was missing her and calling her on the phone often but sometimes her number was unreachable.

He could not have missed her, if he was flirtatious like his friend, Francis. He remembered Francis, who could sleep even with a mad woman. Francis liked skirts, he said to himself. He (Francis) was a serial casanova. Kunle had sent a wedding invite to Francis few days away to his (Kunle's) nuptial. But Kunle was disappointed when he did not even see a resemblance of his friend. Francis had no picture of how Kunle's wife looked like -- beautiful or ugly.

Now, Christiana had returned from Lagos. She knew she had offended her husband, she began begging him. It took almost a week before she started again seeing the beautiful side of her husband.

"I promise I will never do that again" she fell on her knees before him as usual, holding his brownish trousers.

"When next you do that you are going to meet your belongings outside" He frowned, avoiding her face.

When it was bedtime, she seduced him with her light curve hips. He could see her purple underwear through the transparent night gown she wore. He was moved, pulled her to himself, buried her back on the bed and started kissing her. She curved her hands around his neck. In a blink of an eye, she began moaning. love making had commenced.

Four weeks later Kunle traveled to Lagos to clear some vehicles at the port. He was surprised when he saw his friend, Francis. He had added some weight, Kunle observed. Francis was a few inches taller than him. They shook hands, hugged and exchanged laughter.

"What are you doing here, guy? " Francis threw a question to his friend. Kunle was engulfed with glee. This friendly contact resurrected those days they had spent together in university. Francis' moniker was "Oshomo" (an ideal toaster). Kunle could never forget the day he broke his bed when he (Francis) was sleeping with a campus whore. The bed was sagging gradually until it got broken he got off the lady who was struggling to cover herself. The news travelled like wild fire through the campus.

"Actually I came to clear my cars here" replied Kunle.

Francis suggested Kunle come with him to his house and have nice time together before he traveled back the following day. Kunle jumped onto the offer.

"I'm going to stay with you, dude" Kunle chuckled.

"Fine boy" Kunle teased. His friend grinned.

"Please, I don't know my offense" Christiana was begging Kunle who was flinging her belongings out of the house.

"Kunle, please. At least tell me my offense and I shall apologize" She was still begging. Tears rained down from her eyes. She knew it would take miracle to change his mind. She didn't know where she had got it wrong. But she knew for herself that she had done a bad thing somewhere.

"Leave my house. Ashewo!" Kunle barked at her, pushing her to the pedestrian gate. Hey! Kunle called her a prostitute. She wanted to collapse. She had never been called that. She perused herself and bust into tears.

"Kunle, you call me ashewo" she indicated herself by tapping her chest. He pushed her violently out of the compound and slammed the gate after her.

That day at night, Kunle could not sleep. When you are worried, insomnia will surely pay you a visit. Hours will look longer than usual. That was what happened to him. He sat up on the edge of his fine wooden bed that was rapped with a white bedsheet. He buried his head on the tempo and began to remember everything Francis had told him. He towered up and inched towards the window, half open. He could see nothing but darkness. Thence, he advanced to the cabinet hung on the wall. He opened it and brought out a wine and reached for a glass. He poured the wine, half the glass and emptied it at a go. He carried himself to the living room and retired on the sofa adjacent the TV. After some minutes his eyes were arrested by sleep. He was shut down.

Christiana had telephoned his two friends, Yemi and Mustapha, and narrated her experience with her husband previous day. They had assured her that they would talk to him.

"I don't want her again in my life" Kunle refused to listen to his friends. Mustapha admonished him that women are the same and he needed to overlook her shortcoming. "Everybody has his shortcoming" added Yemi.

"Maybe you don't know what she did" Kunle dug his hand in his pocket, fumbled in it and brought out his phone. He operated it and showed his friends a recorded video. They covered their mouths in surprise after seeing it. He collected the phone back and dropped it in his pocket.

"How did you get this?" Asked Yemi.

"Francis, of course!" He thundered. Anger showed in his eyes. He explained to the two friends how he had come across Francis in Lagos Pot.

"I will never remarry" he touch the floor with one finger and brought it to his mouth, signifying him swearing. Yemi and Mustapha were speechless and felt sorry for him.

Two small settees were set side to side. There was another two settees opposite them. A long sofa facing the television that was reinforced by a metal shelf. A table was situated at the center. There were various items on the table. That was Kunle's father's living room. He (his father) decided to quench the burning matter. Kunle occupied a seat, facing his mother-in-law who sunk in a chair beside her daughter. Kunle's father spread on the long sofa with his wife (Kunle's mother). After proper introduction, Kunle's father asked him to tell them why he didn't want his wife again. Instead of narrating to them the saga that promoted his action, he started insulting his wife.

"Shut up!" His father shouted, warning him to stop abusing anyone. He apologized. He explained himself and showed them the video he had shown his friends. They too were startled. "Iyawo!" Christiana's mother screamed wife in Yoruba. She was getting off balanced, ready to slap her daughter.

"That guy you see sleeping with my wife is my friend" Kunle talked, looking side way.

"Does he know that she is your wife?" Asked his father.

"No," he answered.

Christiana's make-up had been melt with tears. She couldn't get her voice collected as the tears were rushing down. "I was drunk that night" she began her story "The only thing I could remember was that my friend asked someone to help get to the room she had arranged for me." She wiped off the streaming tears with the back of her hand.

"The following day I found myself totally undressed. There was a strange man besides me. He was in nakedness too. I quickly reached for my dress. I..." she was interrupted by Kunle.

"He didn't take advantage of you" Kunle interjected "you threw yourself on him and started loosing his shirt buttons. Francis had told me everything" Yes, Francis said that but he twisted the story. It was he that took advantage of her. But could you blame Francis? He did not that he was plotting against his friend's wife. He had told Christiana's friend (the celebrant) that he liked Christiana and would pay her (friend) handsomely if she could work it for him. Her friend did it for the sake of money.

" Ah! You are..." Christiana raised her hands above her head.

"Shut up. You shameless woman" her mother stopped her from talking.

Everybody begged Kunle to accept her back. But he refused, telling them it was over between them. Meanwhile she was carrying his baby (probably). She didn't know how to tell this. She fell into silence, bemused, cried and cried and cried.

THE END

By Rashiology

From: Nigeria