Tales Of A Nigerian Man; Green Card Chase #7

With my mouth gaped, I stared at her in shock and total disbelief, unable to utter a single word. I tried hard to swallow, but my mouth felt so dry. Every attempt at speaking ended at me shutting my mouth and shaking my head vigorously in pain. She had her eyes fixed on me all that time, wide, like I was demented or probably on the verge. I ran my hands on my face several times hoping to open my eyes to realize it was just another dream; I slapped myself thrice on the face with both hands in frustration, she felt the pain like it was her own face, she rushed towards me to stop me from hitting myself any further.

“Ben, what has gotten into you? Stop it right...”

I raised my right hand quickly into the air with clenched teeth, and that forced the rest of the words back down her throat as she froze. I saw the shock in her eyes, the fear and the disappointment registered on her face just few seconds before I dropped my hand to my side, her left hand placed against her left cheek and her eyes misty.

“Ben...Ben...” she cried. “...Ben, how could you?”

My anger dissolved into irritation, disgust...eyes fixed on hers.

“Why are you ‘Benning’ me so? I haven’t even slapped you yet, so quit been dramatic because I know the next part is where you play the victim.”

She took her hand off her face and placed both on her waist, akimbo, lips twisted in an awkward angle. Just twenty seconds ago she was close to tears and looked like one who had just been shot on the shoulder by the one she love the most, but now...those fiery eyes, narrowed brows and pouted lips.

“Your hands do not necessarily have to land against my skin for you to have hit me, Ben. You smacked me over and over again the second you raised that hand...”

“-Maybe I should just finish what I started...” I said with no hint of remorse in my voice.

“Ben!”

“Can you stop screaming my name, Euphie, it makes me sick!” I said loudly. “...you make me sick, Regina makes me sick, Ben makes me sick...you all f*king make me sick!”

She was speechless, calm; she slowly walked backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed like a thunderbolt had gone through her. I felt sorry for utterances, maybe I did say the wrong things; maybe I went a little bit far...just maybe. I was in so much hurt and was trying to understand what was going on...Mitch!

“What is going on between you and Mitch, Euphie?” I asked coolly.

“-What do you mean what is going on between Mitch and i?..”

“-Don’t bloody answer my question with a question!...” I started on my feet, directly above her, she cowed.

“You are accusing me of having an affair with Mitch, Ben.”

“I am telling it to you, to your face, that there is something going on between you and Mitch...that, my dear wife, is judgment, not accusation.”

“Why? All because he bought the house and let us stay in it still?...because he was sympathetic to my plight and decided to be generous and...” her voice breaking...does she ever get tired of crying?

“No, Euphemia! Damnit!!...all because he could have helped you financially since he was that generous, or better still, loaned you the money. He is my friend; he needn’t buy my house, Euphemia. Am I that stupid? Tell me! What friend buys his childhood friend’s house double the worth? Tell me!!”

Inside the restaurant, I waited patiently for Mitch to grant me audience, as he was busy with few things when I walked in. I had left Euphemia chewing on my last words; obviously, she had never given Mitch’s gesture a thought at all, but I have thrown her mind into a confused state; what is Mitch up to?

“Sorry my friend, too many customers...” He said as he joined me on the table. “What do I get...”

“Nothing, Mitch, don’t sweat it.” He must have sensed the coldness in my voice despite all of my effort to act calm for he pulled back and leaned against his chair with squinted eyes, curious.

“...i have got something eating me up, man. My mind is in a mess, Mitch. That is why I have come to see you, I am sorry I couldn’t wait till sometime later.”

He was calm and collected.

“The house? Right?”

I was taken by surprise.

“...she told you already; that’s good. Was hoping you ‘ll find out later than now though.”

“How did you know I am here because of the...”

“-She told me.” He said with a smile.

When? That couldn’t be true. I got to the restaurant some twenty minutes after I left home and he has been so busy all through, I never took my eyes off him. So when and how did the ‘telling’ happen. What game is Mitch playing here? What the hell is he up to?

“When?”

“She called me up on the phone some minutes before you came in.”

I hit both fist on the table in anger as I made to my feet.

“What the hell, Mitch!!”  All eyes on me...i cared less. “You have got to tell me what is going on between you and my wife!”

“Keep your voice down, Ben...” he said in a hushed tone, still calm and unperturbed.

“What game are you up to, Mitch?...” I yelled. “What game are you playing with my family?!”

“You will shut the hell up, Ben! Keep your f*king voice down or get the hell out!” he got on his feet.

We stood there, growling at each other, our heads some inches away from contact. I refused to act on impulse because I that was going through my mind at that moment was “kill the bastard”, I let my anger subside; I didn’t have to be the first to back down, but I figured I was the intruder there, he owns the restaurant.

“You hurt me, Mitch; you hurt me so much...” I said in hushed voice. “What have I done to you to warrant my family becoming gamebox to you? You my friend...”

“You hurt now? For real? You worry over what is not...Everybody hurts...and, don’t call me your friend for I ceased been that years ago.”

Just what I thought, Mitch never got over the hurt he felt when Euphemia chose me over him, he still believed I stole what was his.

“I will take my leave now.” I said calmly.

“And I will see you to your car.” He said with a smile.

As we made towards the exit, Mitch apologized to his customers for the little embarrassing display, his hand on my shoulder all that time. Just as we stepped out, she walked out of the cab that had just pulled over in front of the restaurant, tired. the cabman got open the booth of the car and two workers from the eatery came out to help.

“good evening sir.” She greeted Mitch as she walked in. It was a little dark outside so I took me a while to recognize her, Anna. I turned to Mitch...

“Is that not Anna? Your supposed wife?”

He had sent her shopping the minute they left my place, probably to get some needed cooking stuff...whatever the case might have been. She only saw me once, recognize me.

“That is Anna, my chief cook.”

Chidera Reginald.