AM (Chapter 3)
Courage is like love; it must have hope for nourishment – Napoleon Bonaparte
8:11 am
Gabriel silently reiterated that the day hadn’t given any indication he’d be embroiled in weirdness and most importantly, with the woman of his dreams.
He’d known her for years, in his dreams they were already married. And so, this conviction made him pursue her with vigor.
She in turn rejected him just as vigorously.
Every morning, he positioned himself on her path to work and always offered her a ride. She’d been affronted that he’d even speak to her and now he knew she regarded him as a rich kid and hated him for that.
This knowledge didn’t curb his excitement in having had her in his arms. He was yet to know her name and he swore to himself that he’d know more about her by the end of the day.
But at the moment, strangeness surrounded her and he wasn’t a stranger to strangeness; usually though, it gave some sort of warning, a harbinger of its occurrence. Not this one, no bell had dinged to announce this day. And he couldn’t forget the strange pressure he’d felt coming from the building.
Was that the moment men were crawling like bugs? He’d know soon enough.
He sighed, paused in his path and scanned the market named after the village, Afaha. It used to be popular and packed on a normal market day, now only a handful of traders marked the dry and extremely sandy market space.
One could find anything in Afaha market, and he knew this because his mother had dragged him along as a young adult. Consequently, he’d learned to bicker and purchase things like any consummate house wife.
His dream woman needed clothes and undies and he knew the woman to help. The problem was, he was having difficulty breathing after he’d heard the size of her bra; it was good though that he didn’t need much concentration to meander through the almost deserted market.
Forty-two double D, she’d said under her breath, extremely embarrassed at having to give him this information. If only she knew, her embarrassment was fickle, because from then, his eyes just kept unconsciously returning to her chest.
Gabriel’s mind wouldn’t stop creating scenarios which had him buried in between her twin bulbs of paradise. He had a break when he finally reached his mother’s customer and purchased the undies.
The woman’s face, weathered with hardship, didn’t register any surprise. He knew that she knew that even if his mother was on the plump side, her bra size definitely wasn’t as large as what he’d requested.
She collected her money and then helped him select a free sized, draw-string jean and a t-shirt, but then got confused when he couldn’t find anybody selling shoes.
The woman informed him that the people he saw in the market were those still trying to sell off their old stock, or people who dealt in stolen merchandize.
Gabriel nodded in understanding and thanked her before leaving; she asked him to make sure he greeted his mother for her, of course he nodded in acquiesce. He’d known that woman for a long time and he’d known that no matter the situation her goods were always sold out due to its good quality and fair price.
This nugget of information pointed to the fact that his mother’s customer obviously dealt in stolen merchandize. Right, he thought, to every man his own, the economy certainly was to blame. But there was no way he was relaying this news to his woman, he didn’t know if she was squeamish, but he wasn’t willing to find out. Nobody will be comfortable wearing possibly stolen clothes, at least without first washing them.
When he got to the car, he discovered she’d been whispering again, apparently conversing with the voice in her head.
“I couldn’t find shoes,” he announced and she jerked in a start, looking frightened.
“You scared me,” she murmured when she found out it was him. Her arm still held the laptop as she nodded to his information about shoes.
“Sorry,” Gabriel apologized and handed the cellophane to her.
Now the awkward moment arrived when she’d have to change. Meems swallowed her embarrassment and stepped out of the car, only to climb into the back seat.
Awkward silence reigned as she pulled out the clothes; Gabriel cleared his throat and turned, backing the steering wheel as he stared off into the bush beside the car.
“I thought I’d dreamt it, but it had happened. My laptop was closed but it turned it self on, which was strange, because it’s an old device with a faulty battery, there was nowhere it could come on without power.”
This was the beginning of her weird story. A story that sounded vaguely familiar as she told it; familiar like a movie he’d watched or a book he’d read…or a familiar dream. And strangely, like a long forgotten story, he knew the next step in the story before she told him.
“I felt the pressure,” he informed her when she spoke about the crawling men.
“That was why you shoved me in your car and fled,” she finally understood why he’d acted alert while claiming he’d not seen the crawling men.
Her eyes feasted on the broadness of his shoulders as he studied his shoe. She was completely dressed now with no shoes, but that wasn’t the main issue presently. At that moment, she realized that Gabriel had actually caught the whole of her one hundred and thirty pounds, if not more, in his arms.
It occurred to her that he was her dream man. She’d always had this fantasy that her husband would be able to carry her over the threshold, to bed or just for a romantically fun spin.
He could carry her!
Focus!
Meems ignored the voice and furtively studied the bulge of his muscles in his navy blue long sleeve shirt. She was tingling all through when she realized he possessed the light skin complexion she so favored in a man.
Not the right time
It was a warning.
Meems ignored it again and stepped out of the car with the intention of actually studying his face; her heart began pounding but not in fear. In excitement, of course he was handsome with his expressive eyes and thick eye brows and crew cut and chin beard, shaved low and neat.
Gabriel looked up and found her studying him, their eyes held and the connection was electric. They both felt it, the air crackled with undeniable intensity.
“It fits,” Gabriel said gruffly and straightened, his heart beating so fast, he was tempted to reach up and pat his chest to calm it down.
Oh God, not now.
The voice sounded frustrated, but she didn’t care, this was new, she’d never felt anything like it before. The fire in the pit of her stomach she’d associated with the message box, was now an inferno in her veins.
It was exhilarating; it made her feel that anything was possible.
Meems looked down at her clothes unseeingly when he commented on them. The bra was perfect, the shirt too and she was grateful that the jean was attractively snug about the hips; her feminine vanity had suddenly emerged.
“Thanks,” she whispered and contained her smile, she actually wanted to grin.
“I have an extra pair of trainers in the boot of my car,” he still sounded gruff, so he cleared his throat and went to the back of the car.
“So,” he called out casually from the boot of his car as he reached for the shoes. “What’s your name?”
There was a pause of silence where Gabriel refused to retract himself from the boot of his car. He waited with bated breath as he wondered if she’d reply or wave him off with snide words as she usually did.
“I’m identified as Meems,” she said, sounding defensive.
Her choice of words and tone of voice immediately worried him. He retracted his body instantly and faced her.
“Identified?”
“I dumped my name.”
“Why?”
“It was of no use to me.”
“Right, I hope the shoes fit,” he said as though she’d just not been weird, the sizzling connection had evaporated. She didn’t want it to but not even that strange decadence would make her say her name; as far as she was concerned, it was an abomination.
Gabriel handed over the shoes and wondered if this was worse than they snide remarks she usually gave him. Trying to be positive, he shrugged, at least he had something to call her.
So, what now? Meems desolately thought as she tied the laces on the second shoe.
Ibesikpo
“Ibesikpo,” Gabriel blurted out, totally shocking himself and her…and Meems.
She must have spoken aloud again. “What…how did you know to say that?” she choked in her speed to speak.
Gabriel shrugged, “How do you mean? My cousin lives there, and I think he can help us,” he explained.
“Your cousin…the voice in my head just mentioned Ibesikpo and you said the same thing just seconds apart,” she seemed freaked out.
“It’s a coincidence,” he said and waved her into the car.
“A coincidence,” she said in a blatantly disbelieving tone, but still climbed into the car, the shoe felt comfortable.
“The shoe good?” he asked as he turned the ignition.
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, laptop back in her arm. “How…?”
“You had breakfast?” he cut her off again.
“I haven’t had the time,” she replied sarcastically because she knew he was interrupting her on purpose.
Gabriel grinned at her frustration and her heart skipped at the beautiful picture he made. But then she had to know how he knew the word in her head.
In due time
“Seriously, how…?”
“We’ll eat on the way,” he informed her and drove without looking at her.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she accused.
“And I can do it all day, baby.”
The gravelly voice he used in calling her baby melted her limbs, she’d do anything he asked if he could just call her baby again and in the exact sexy tone.
“Oh well,” she sighed and stared off for a while, for about twenty minutes.
“What does your cousin know?” she asked in a whisper unexpectedly.
Gabriel smiled and knew he’d been had; she’d patiently waited to sneak in her question. He didn’t want to call her out on it though, he liked that she was that good, that smart, it thoroughly tickled his fancy. He couldn’t wait for future years of doing this, and with that thought, he answered her in a pleased tone.
“Everything.”
Story continues.