“The cane that was used to beat the first wife is the same cane that would be used to beat the second wife.” Jake’s story frightened me. I knew, without a doubt, that if I wasn’t careful, I would also end up in excruciating pain like him. Jake broke into tears after his story. I tried to console him and told him I would take up the matter and deal with those rascals.
I had never seen those boys before. I didn’t know how big or strong they were. I didn’t even know if I could beat them or not. But as our wise folks say, “If the cockroach wants to rule over the chicken, then it must hire the fox as a bodyguard.” I needed a plan—a very good plan—to put those rascals in their place. We went back to the dormitory to sleep.
That night on my bed, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Priscy and those rascals. Was it even worth it to fight them? From Jake’s account, Priscy had run away as soon as the boys pounced on him. Could that be a sign that one day, if I finally held her heart, she’d run away and leave me too? Or was that even the full truth of what Jake told me? “Until the rotten tooth is pulled out, the mouth must chew with caution.” I decided to delay my judgment until I heard the other side of the story. I said a short prayer and finally slept.
I woke up the next day rejuvenated, poised to face whatever would come. I said a short prayer. I read my Bible. I went to do my morning duty. I took my bath, dressed up neatly, and grabbed my bag. Just when I was about to leave the dormitory, Jake called me.
He told me about a bad dream he’d had. In the dream, he was being lynched by a group of people. Luckily, I came to his rescue. We prayed about the dream and I went out, leaving him to finish getting ready. I knew it was the heavy punches from those guys that made him dream like that. I wasn’t scared of the dream, because even if it came true, I would be his rescuer—not the one being lynched.
I decided to sacrifice breakfast that day. I didn’t want to go to the dining hall. I used the time instead to meet Priscy. I needed her side of the story. How had she managed to run away and leave Jake to his fate? And the letter—the letter that had sparked the fight. Could it be the one I’d written to her? Or was it another letter entirely? If it was mine, I had to clean the mess. How? Well, I’d do it my own way.
I’m sure you’re wondering if I would run to Priscy and confess that I was the one writing the letters, not the other guy. Far from that. That would be the dumbest thing I could ever do. I wouldn’t stop writing her anonymous love letters. She would keep receiving them until I finally got hold of her heart and made it mine.
“If a snake does not act like a snake, little children will use it to tie firewood.” I gathered all the courage within me and went to Priscy’s class. She looked especially pretty that day. As soon as she saw me, she smiled.
I have seen over a million smiles from pretty ladies, but hers was my favorite. I fell in love with the way she touched me without even using her hands. My love for her consumed my thoughts and captured my heart. Right there and then, I wished I could go down on my knees and propose to her—just like they do it in the movies—but I controlled myself.
“Are you going out for break?” I asked her.
“No, I don’t feel like eating this morning.”
“Okay, can we go to the library then? I want us to talk about something.”
I made the request, and before she could even answer, Jake appeared from nowhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment