Sweat and roses 0.4.0

Bobby lay on the cold ground, by the roadside in just his white vest and black brief, barely able to stay awake; he blinked continuously as he looked far up into the skies, lost in the moment. On his back, soaked in his own blood, too weak to move, his legs where spread wide apart, Bobby’s testicles have been smashed like walnuts; tears came to my eyes, I wept bitterly, more than I did at my mum’s demise. Bobby couldn’t have gotten into a fight, he always had a hold on his temper; the bruises and cuts all over his body told a different story; it was nothing short of torture. I stood there beside him among many others who came to confirm for themselves the rumor that had spread round town in barely ten minutes.

A black jeep had sped down the road and a body had been thrown off, it had rolled across the road, coming to rest on its back seconds later. Eye witnesses had rushed off to take a look at the body; they were shocked when they had found out it was Bobby. The news had spread like wild fire, within minutes, the scene was crowded with people; they just stared at the dying man, shaking their heads in pity with their hands folded across their chests. I watched as Bobby’s chest rose and fell slowly, too slow, for a living being. Less than a minute later, he remained still, eyes wide open and mouth gaped with saliva running down one side of his cheeks; he was dead, gone...just like my mama.

The black jeep could not be identified, not even a single clue as to what lead to Bobby’s death. It was so frustrating and depressing; having no knowledge of what actually went down, not knowing who to point finger at. And if vengeance was to be considered, to whom would it be served? Then I remembered, earlier that day, Bobby had told me about one of his sugar mummies whom he had issues with, she owed him, that was all I knew; not much details was given on that, but he had told me he was going to meet with her in her house instead of the hotel they frequent; she had said she wanted that day’s session to feel different, to feel homely. I had figured out the suspect, it had to be her.

Maybe things had gone a little out of hand and she decided to get rid of him with the help of her thugs...or maybe her husband came home earlier than expected and caught Bobby naked, on his wife, in his matrimonial bed. Maybe...

“Guy, you dey sick! Which kain nonsense dream be that one? I use God beg you, no see me for any of these your nonsense dream dem next time!”

“But I did not make the dream up.” I replied calmly to Bobby’s comment.

“Anyhow sha, all your dreams dem, no one don ever happen. So, my guy, go treat malaria.”

It was only a dream, but it felt so real, like it was bound to happen. My feet felt cold. I had just jerked off bed, sweating profusely and he had asked what the matter was. I pushed the dream and the thought of it ever reoccurring in real life out of my mind.

“E com be now wey I wan go see this woman for town to collect my money na him you come dey dream this kain bad luck dream...”
Bobby got off the couch and heads for the wardrobe to get some clothes out.

“...i must go see her o.” he said with a laugh.
In the night that ushered in that morning, Bobby and I had decided what we would do with the money from Madam Angela; we were going to move into a better apartment, we had the money, but we needed more for the furnishing and wardrobe changing too. I wondered why money was never enough; we got a whooping sum on a platter and have decided to upgrade our class, and then it felt like we even needed more than we had initially to maintain the status we had attained. The needs for money kept coming, and we had to get it, so I agreed to let Bobby hook me up with a sugar mummy the next day; and then I had that dream; but neither of us had our mind changed by it.

After all, it was just a dream, a silly one induced by malaria. Did I not dream of humping Madam Angela? I did not even get my shoulder to brush against hers...nothing to worry about.
The day had gone as planned, my first ever sugar mummy experience. The fat woman had insisted I called her pet names, her favorite happened to be “baby boo”. Gosh! It would have been easier to jump off a ten story building than have the word ‘baby boo’ out of my mouth to that hag. The sex was worse; if only she had allowed me choose, I would have picked calling her ‘baby boo’ for the whole year to the three miserable rounds of sex. I thought I was going to suffocate in-between her massive thighs, choking on her garlic body smell, and all she did was grunt like a pig...

“urgh, baby boy, give it to me...just like that...urghh...come on...”
She did get the whole idea of moaning wrong. Two hours after I joined her in the hotel room, I was glad it was finally over. She handed me a bundle of cash...
“I have more where that is coming from; all you just have to do is be a good boy. I hate to share my man.” She said.

“Trust me baby boo, no one else but you.”

“Don’t let me ever see you with any of those skinny young girls, you are for me alone. Do you hear me? You are my man.”

Oh holy cow! Am now her man? And she, my baby boo? This is a lot more serious than I thought it would be.

“What do they have that you don’t have in excess? I am for you alone.” I lied.
She smiled sheepishly and rolled from side to side on the bed, wobbling her naked mass of flesh.

“Did I just hit that? I best not throw up now, can do that when I get home.” I thought to myself.
Her phone rang; she looked at it where she had dropped it, on the drawer by the bed, just less than three meters away.

“Pass me the phone, will you?” she said. I had never thought anyone lazier than this, with just a stretch of her hand she would have reached the phone. Nonetheless, I took the phone to her. She looked at the caller, smiled and placed the phone to her ear...

“Hi, baby boy...” she grunted into the receiver.

“...do not worry, I will call you when I get back from the office...you know I miss you too...i will, honey.” She ends the call and looked at me.

“On no account should you call my number, I will call you when I need you. Understood?”
I wasn’t finding it funny anymore; she is allowed to keep other ‘sugar boys’, and I am not allowed to keep a girlfriend, am not allowed to call her, yet one of her ‘sugar boys’ just did.
The first thing I did when I got home that night to was have a thorough scrub down, twice, and still, I smelt of garlic. Hopefully it would wear off in matter of hours, I thought.

Bobby was supposed to be home already, I was worried; my dream kept coming to mind. I picked up my phone and dialed his number, switched off. That was unlike Bobby, his line always goes through. I was restless; I decided to head out to check the main roads, maybe it had finally happened. I got up from the bed and then, the door pulled open. Bobby saw the look on my face, he guessed right.

“Oh boy! nothing happen to me, I lash am wella and she roja me big time.” He laughed and threw a bundle on the bed; my jaw dropped. I was excited he was okay, and dumbfounded that he came back with double the amount I brought.

“By next week, we go ball comot for this nonsense house, quickfeet don jand na, as we no fit follow am, make we sha enter better house.”
We were so happy, things were falling into place, we thought. We embraced for a few seconds, Bobby pulled away quickly.

“Since when you begin chop garlic?”
Finally, the dream was nothing, just a nightmare; if only I knew better, it was not Bobby in my dream.
Yours truthfully, Baron Chidalu.