SISTER JANE AND BROTHER TARZAN. The other Saturday at the cell meeting, brother Chikwidi kept talking about marriage. He mentioned how sweet marriages should be twice and even teased two sisters at once. I thought
SISTER JANE AND BROTHER TARZAN.
The other Saturday at the cell meeting, brother Chikwidi kept talking about marriage. He mentioned how sweet marriages should be twice and even teased two sisters at once. I thought he had found her but lo and behold when I asked him about wedding jingles he told me he had three ladies in mind. I just knew the young man was confused. Jokingly, I nudged his ribs and finished up the work in church before driving home.
People could be so crazy, they will say things just like that and upset others emotionally in oblivion. He painted real pictures of great couples and left me alone to imaging it. To die in it. “Pheeew” I blew out turning left at a crossroads.
All through the week, pictures of different women ran across my mind starting from the Sunday service, I kept looking at shapes, sizes and texture of their faces. I could not complete a prayer point because of looking. It wasn’t enough. I did the same in my company. That wasn’t enough still. I checked out every thing that looked like a woman while I drove everyday even fruits sellers. Zero. Still zero.
Before Friday, I was already done with a game I chose not to play. I ran from work to grab a bottle of beer before I die a looking ass niggur.
My pastor preached against alcohol but what I think is ‘excess of everything is bad’. In my right hand, the beer glass stood firm and tactlessly I cheered at a lady drinking alone. Couldn’t recall when I did that and before I knew it she was walking up to me.
‘Lord have mercy on ladies. That was just a…’ She was already in front of me. I didn’t even let her land, I simply gulped down the beer and left her with a peck. She must have thought I was interested so I drove out very fast. So wrong.
Three of my female workers, I have slept with. Many girls, I lost count to the extent that I thought mothers won’t emerge again on earth.
I remembered my mother, a simple minded woman who died three years after my Father divorced her. I forgave my father since I turned to Christ but I still drank to the pain he cursed me. There was no mother, no woman to even play mother to me. The tears trickling down got my hands shaking.
‘For Christ’s sake I am 35 and I am on the wheel’ I consoled myself.
The thought of ‘wifing’ varnished.
It was one Sunday that I wore a red suit that I noticed sister Jane. She also wore red, a red V-neck flair gown. I could paint her on that dress. As we gathered for a brief cell meeting, everyone jeered at us admiring our matching colours. That was part of some kind of heaven’s plan. It seemed like everyone kept hugging her saying ‘welcome’ so I hugged her too. She just got back from a trip.
She fell into my eyes yet I didn’t blink.
I didn’t say a word even after three weeks still she existed in my eyes.
One Saturday, I hugged sister Chika closely to inquire something, “How’s your friend Jane doing?”
“Sister Jane?” She laughed first, “She is not really my friend. We are not close and besides she doesn’t associate with anyone. She keeps to herself once everything is over in church. We happen to be driving the same car. Dark blue Highlanders so we chat a little. What?”
“Nothing. I’m just saying since she left so fast”
“OK. Probably business. Let me run along”
She left with her heels fighting the floor after releasing too much of what I didn’t need. That was too much and I felt discouraged.
Later in the week while I was watching a TV show, the presenter pointed out that when you find it difficult to approach her, she could be the one. I noted the point and pondered on it while sipping a glass of juice.
I talked to women so easily but sister Jane’s case was getting bigger daily. My heart grew heavier, searching for ways to storm a better approach and each time I heard my mind say ‘Jane’ I felt like making love to her in a white bed with her putting on red.
I was on sex strike for six months already and I never felt horny.
Then sister Jane. Sister temptation.
She was really itching me. It was not as if I haven’t seen her before then in church but life is really an open field, whenever you start thinking of something, you find it next to you but you didn’t find it since because you never thought of it.
I made up my mind to say ‘hi’ the next Sunday.
She didn’t show up in church. That was the devil’s plot. I didn’t still relent on the thoughts of her.
Another Sunday followed, I didn’t conclude on carrying out any plan, I just went freely in good faith.
The brief cell meeting was called again, we all sat down and to my greatest joy, she sat next to me.
Still waiting on our leader to speak, I stood up to answer bro Chikwidi’s call. From around the whole world, I couldn’t define when my hands signalled on sister Jane to watch my iPad on my seat while rushing out. She was the one next to me so I couldn’t have recalled when I did that. I simply left as fast as the call came.
From the technical counter as I spoke with Chikwidi, I heard really great murmur from my cell group.
It drew almost everyone’s attention so I went nearer.
‘The iPad is broken’ sister Jane held it in her hand almost in tears.
I stood there angrily while everyone said sorry.
“I’m so sorry brother. Uuhm. I didn’t just know what I was thinking seriously and this brother sat on it without looking. I’m sorry . I should have watched it like you said. I didn’t just know..”
Her tears were already falling and that got me concerned on why she could cry on something as small as that. She walked away with it unknowingly creating a good chance for us. Quickly, I followed her out.
Before I got there, she was already in her car weeping with all seriousness. I joined her inside.
“Sorry. I’m sorry brother..”
“It’s OK sister Jane. Why the plenty tears? Are you OK?”
“Yes. Seriously I am OK but I might not be. I think something is wrong that…that”
We were still in the church premises and how to console her was what I couldn’t phantom.
“Should I?.. Like”
I knew she wanted to say, “Should I replace it?” I quickly said no with capital letters and went to take over her car. I drove her to my own house while she sobbed uncontrollably and that got me wondering why.
To me, a new environment might help and it really did. Even the sight of my home and the creativity surrounding it got her asking sweet questions that told me I scored 90 over 100.
Inside one of my cozy cushions she laid relieving herself of her high shoes and tommy belt. She drank the chilled juice I offered and felt very free enough to tell me that she could lay there till the next day.
I smiled again, 100 over 100.
I served her another glass and a plate of berries and we ate together sitting next to each other. It felt like we were friends in dreams that just met in real life.
She did the coolest thing by proving me wrong on my hold not to have approached her since, thinking she might be a hard snob.
Within minutes, she did the sweetest worst. She felt drowsy and politely borrowed my thighs for her head. Within me, I wanted that kind of closeness too, so I gently placed her head on my thighs trying to arrange the curls of her hair.
As we laid there, I stared at her, myself, my house, her car outside and the broken iPad on the table. Most times, we have to loose something to get something but the best things to loose are material possessions for what is more tangible, more supernatural, more extraordinary, more rewarding as love.
At 6pm, she drove me back to church to pick my car and she really smiled while driving away gently. She told me she had a stressful week previously and would be off on Monday hence a treat on me for breaking my iPad.
I admired her sense of responsibility on the incident so much. She was such a dazzling boss.
We only kissed for a few times before our Pastor pronounced us man and wife. I was glad we didn’t do fornication. Oh wait! Kissing is not fornication. is it?
I couldn’t stop smiling as I wrote this last paragraph. It was the last week of our glamorous honeymoon and my wife needed to be documented in my soul, body, mind, spirit and computer. She was sister Jane and with no regrets I am her Tarzan.
I stared at her all the seconds.
How feeble she looked while sleeping alone. I have to go and hold her now.