Tales Of A Nigerian Man: Green Card Chase #3

“Emilia?...”

I was shocked beyond wildest imagination, my wife, Emilia, married to... hell no! I just didn’t see the possibility of that happening, I just wouldn’t believe that.

“...what are you...”

“em...Ben, meet my wife...” Mitchel spoke soft and calmly, he went over and stood next to the perplexed Emilia. He pulled her head against his crotch with his left hand and ran his right hand through her hair repeatedly, a smile of content playing on his face.

“...i met her two years ago, she had sadness all over her beautiful face, even though she was almost a shadow of her old self, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with her all over again, and I was glad when she agreed to settle with me seven months later, her kids and my little daughter, we...”

I sent a backhand smack across the animal’s face and that drew the other customer’s attention. I must have knocked a tooth out because I felt my middle finger dislocate.  The eatery’s security made to defend their boss but he shunned them away. My head was on fire, for the pains on my dislocated finger, I would have sent another blow directly into his face.

“What do you think you are doing here? I see, this is your own idea of midlife crisis, right?...”

“I want you to leave now, you should know when to accept defeat and let go...”

“Shut up!” I yelled with my left middle finger pointed at him, I was glad I had the full attention of the customers. I turned to Mitch’s wife...i mean my wife, Emilia. She was a glorious sight to behold in that pink silk dress and that scarf around her neck. I could smell her fear, she still feared me, I was glad she had not forgotten what I was capable of.

“...i get it, you are only fooling with him, right? Tell him, tell him that now.” She shook her head negatively in fear.

“...you wanted to know what it feels like going on magical dates, have breakfast, lunch and dinner prepared by your date, right? Fine restaurant, good food, expensive wines.” With that, I hit the wine bottle off the table with my right hand despite the pains and it smashed on the tiled floor, messing up the ground and pieces of the broken bottle scattered everywhere. I could sense it, the customers thought I was justified, they did not see my actions as beastly, I could see it on their faces. I continued...

“...you have tasted that now, two years is enough experience, now it is time to wake up to reality...come with me now, let’s go home.”

Emilia shook her head. “No, Ben, I already have a home...”

I shoved the rest of the words back into her mouth with a slap, oh God! I held my right hand in my left palm. The customers murmured aloud in displeasure and shock; not that they thought my slapping her wrong, but because I hit her so hard that it drew blood...the drop of red blood on her pink lower lip. If only I had hit lighter, it wouldn’t have mattered much, I suppose. Looking up, I crashed against the hard floor, bloody Mitchel on me, heavy blows came down on my face, and it came so fast that I wouldn’t still believe till date that it was just him; he must have had his workers on me too. I blacked out and woke up in a...

“Get me the hell out of this shithole!” I screamed. I looked around; I was in a police cell. Ouch! My head hurt and my lips felt heavy when I spoke. I heard Mitch’s voice, calm as usual, that son of a...God! How I wish him dead. He had come to bail me. Outside the counter, I looked around for my wife, my Emilia.

“Where the hell is my wife?” I demanded. I was left to rant, scream and curse till I got tired and was gently asked to sign an undertaking to stay off Badmos’s family...regrettably, I did. I signed to stay off my own family, who does that? To hell with the law, to hell with Mitchel, to hell with...

“hi dad...”

Mitch and I looked over our shoulder at the door; he stood there, just a foot away from the door, tall and lean like he had always being; he had grown handsome with light beards, the scar on his forehead still clearly visible. After twenty years of separation, I met him a grown man and two years after, the beards made him look much different.

“Hello son, you came?”

Did he just call Mitch dad? I was furious, pang of jealousy inside. He took my wife; ‘that is what he believes’, and that is not enough for him, he wants my entire family.

“of course I did, mum called to inform me of your whereabouts. I was worried.”

“Am fine son, you needn’t worry yourself. Everything is been taking care of.”

He looked at me, straight faced and spoke...

“Hi.”

“Charles?”

“Yeah?”

I was broken in many places but my heart was the most affected. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath and lunged at Mitch with all my strength, right there in the police station. I was caught up in two hefty arms, police officers. I struggled to get one at the bastard, they wouldn’t let me, and they just kept dragging me away as I cursed on and struggled frantically to get free. They let go off me finally when they got tired of restricting me. I made to run forward and hit hard against the closing metal door...i was back in the cell.

Charles, my son looked up at Mitch, worried look on his face. Yes, blood is always thicker than water.

“Are we going to worry over him?” what! How did I get to this point in my life? my family picked a stranger over me. Worse still, my own son is asking if I was to be worried over.

“nope, we will not lose sleep over him. The police will handle him.” He placed his right hand behind Charles and they turned around without looking at me. “Let’s go home; your mother needs us right now.”

“GOD!!!!!!!.”

Chidera Reginald.