A DAY BETWEEN TWO 2

The pieces of thin broken sticks with charred tops that he flung over his shoulder had scattered all around the floor behind him. He guarded the flame from the last match with utmost care.  His left hand was capped around it like an opaque lamp shade while his bearded face gently drew closer with the wick to catch fire. Only millimeters away, the flame flickered, and almost died out, but he had been more cautious and patient this time not to have allowed the tiny puffs of air that escaped through his nostrils to put out this glow. The fire quickly kissed the paper wick that pointed out his mouth and it blushed bright-red. In three very lengthy draws-in, he subjected the other end of the puffy paper wick to a heavy suction, that some of the miniscule husks of its content stuck to the tip of his tongue. A brief moment of respite followed, lining the air in the room with thin trails of smoke that quietly rose from the burning tip of the paper wick. Then soon afterwards was a massive explosion – a gush of dopamine into a streaming red liquid that ran through pipes beneath his skin – the last of the elongated draws-in on the paper wick had at this time, accumulated with the previous two and caused this explosion.

Like a smoke alarm, there was scarcely any delay in triggering the neurotic activity that unleashed the euphoria that suddenly made everything clearer to him – the birds singing, ‘Halleluiah!’, the cocks crowing, ‘Nyame y3 Krokroko’, the whine of mosquitoes closing in from the distance crying about shortage of blood during daytime.

Everything suddenly and lucidly made sense to him; even the sound of the cricket that promised no sleep.

‘I was blind, but now I see’ he remarked in awe of the shocking revelation to this new found epiphany. What was also wondrous is how in that enlightened state of mind, many questions came thronging in, questions that had once crossed his mind yet had not received any proper reflection due to the burdening apprehensions of everyday life. After waiting too long, most of these thoughts simply tarried within the subconscious on a long waiting list of other thoughts queuing-in to be thought through.

‘What were those toads saying to me the other day while I was passing - what really?’ he unexpectedly found himself asking – inaudibly - his luminous face now gaping in the sky with a big question mark of zoned-out mind adventures, whose greatness in appearance excitingly intimidates and stuns in its clarity.  'Ring..!' And as if an incandescent lamp bulb suddenly blew lit -

Alas this was short lived – The movie.

The jarring impact of contemplation that had been managed at bay behind the walls of my barricaded mind suddenly gathered the nerves to jam my television set.

My heart begun to race once more when I realized I still stood beneath running water.

I prayed that the type-written scripts that I carried earlier on in a flat file inside my bag had not been touched by water, lest they were ruined in any way. Their salvaging was worth all the athletics in the rains today.

I wouldn’t say that I was afraid of getting drenched in the rain like many people where I come from, I only needed to secure the safety of these scripts at any personal expense, because they were worth to me more than just words printed on a paper.

The flat file and my cell phone were huddled somewhere inside the big belly of my MSimps handbag – a sizeable unisex carrier made in Ghana from Tie and Dye fabric.

I almost get close to marching naked from the bathroom to give the items in my bag a quick check inside the bedroom, and then return to finish my bath, yet instead I resolve to do the inspection afterwards.

‘Agyeii…!’ I nagged abruptly in pain.

My left hand had accidentally rubbed over the welts that were formed on the right shoulder of my arm and bruised it a little. It sent a spasmodic chill of ache through my naked body under the cold water that misty evening.

‘ Awurade Nyankop3n, akoa’yi 3nsusu’am b3 me’ I uttered these words in Twi in a vengeful tone, now examining the welts, while wishing at that moment that the Mate had appeared for me to strike him repeatedly in his jaw.

It was natural that such an outburst of pain would first of all be expressed in Twi, and then afterwards in English when the hurt had calmed.

‘This moron of a guy had not at all relented in pounding my shoulder’ I whispered this to myself disgusted by every thought of the Mate, although deep down inside me, I wish I had not revenged.

‘A tooth for a tooth’ played no part in my upbringing.

 Sometimes I would even quip when conversing with some friends that, ‘if an eye for an eye will make the world go blind, then a tooth for a tooth will make the whole world hungry, because nobody would have teeth to chew.’ One of them would always reason me out exclaiming, ‘what happened to swallowing?’

Well, but my own maxims should have forewarned me. Now that overpowering feeling of remorse would not let me go. This is what happens when I am often misled by anger to err, ‘I should’ve known this because I knew this’ it even made a song in my head.

I rotated the knob to stop the water from flowing.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed the bedroom way.