If You Missed The Part 66, Read It Here
“I said my phone is on the floor!” I shouted at him.
He parked the motorcycle, I alighted, then ran like a wild dog to pick up the phone where it dropped. Thank goodness, no car drove behind us, it would have been another story.
I returned to the motorcyclist, who hissed at me, ignited the engine and we zoomed off.
“Oya come down.” The motorcyclist said as we got to my destination.
“My change?” I asked the motorcyclist as I stretched a two hundred naira note to him.
He snatched the money from me, then zoomed away. “God punish your papa!” I shouted, pacing a little after him. “Bastard!”
I paused, stood at akimbo gazing at him as his perspective grew thiner. I shrugged the feelings away and headed into the banking hall. You better be reasonable and let me in peacefully, I said to myself as the double door rejected me twice. Finally, I escaped all its threat, thanks to the bank security man.
I walked to the deposit stand, picked up a slip, filled it and strolled majestically to join the queue. I shuffled my steps as the customer ahead moved over to the counter. At last, I was called. I paid the money and left the banking hall.
I let out the breath I had held since the day the cheque tried to run from me. I smiled, boarded another motorcycle, off to the campus. Once bitten, twice shy, that I remembered, which made me place the motorcyclist on a condition, he must give me my balance before I give him his money. We both reached and settled our agreement.
It was 2:40 P.M. when I got to my hall. I walked to my block, enthusiastically climed the stairs, then I began whistling a winning song as I bounced to my room.
My ears like a magnet, heard people giggling from one of the rooms. I hastened my steps, strained my ears to spot which room the sound came from. I moved closer, even closer to my room.
“Funny guys.” A soft voice protruded, coupled with laughter. “Their rooms are always wack.”
Oops! Those voices came from my room. How come my room was opened? Didn’t I lock the door? Oh no I didn’t, I remembered rushing out of the room to the library for my bag.
I cleared my throat, scanned through my dressing to be sure if I was fit enough to confront the girls, then I opened the door gently and walked in. Wow! These girls are beautiful, I screamed in my mind but it appeared on my face.
“Hello.” I greeted.
They waved. “Hi.”
“You are the library girl, huh?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m.” She replied. “So, where is my bag?”
I smiled. “Oh!” I sounded and immediately groped under the bed for it. “Here is it.”
She hissed and frowned her face like an unkempt kitchen. “Oh my gosh, this is not my bag.” She said.
What should I do? Go in search of your bag? I almost said. “I’m so sorry.” I said and shrugged. “This was the bag I mistook for my bag.”
Her friend, who accompanied her to my hall, guessed because she was scared of the male hostel, removed her spectacles and fired at me with her foreign intonation. “Hey Mr, why on earth should you take what isn’t yours?” She asked.
I was quite crossed with the way she accused me. “Hello Miss, you weren’t deaf when I said I mistook it for my bag.” I replied her with a frown on my face.
She stood up angrily. “You must be sick in the skull with that kinda response.” She yelled. “Imagine this, this, this…”
“Nancy, Nancy, calm down.” The library girl interjected, pulling her by the arm.
“No! Don’t tell me that.” She increased her pitch. “This guy is a fool. He indirectly abused me and I promise that you will definitely pay for this.”
“Pay for what?” I furiously asked her.
“Shut the heck up, dog and watch me make you pay.” She threatened.
I was quite scared but I acted bold. “Let’s watch and see.”
“Nancy, come on it’s ok.” The library girl cut in. “We don’t have to fight over this.”
“I wonder o.” I affirmed.
Nancy hissed. “Gosh, you suck.” She said and scowled at me.
Ring! Ring!! Nancy’s phone rang out loud from her bag. She opened, groped for it and picked it up. I stared at her, as she sat on my bed, pompous.
“Yes dad. I had just a paper today. No, no. Trust me dad. Ok.” She said as she put on her spectacles and fixed her eyes on me. “Oh! My school? Seriously? Banji?”
“What?!” I ignorantly yelled.
With the phone still plugged to her ear, she made a sign to me with her left hand, bent all her fingers inward, save the middle one.
I was extremely angry but I respected her call, which got my mouth sealed and my emotions buried.
“Banji, Banji in the air.” She continued.
“Hey! Enough of my name.” I yelled. “Stop faking calls here and get out of my room.”
She lividly looked at me and stood up. “Dad, please I’m in the middle of a meeting. Ok.” She said. “Thanks dad. Love you too.”
“Why were you calling my name?”
She hissed. “I wasn’t wrong when I called you a dog because you bark alot.” She said. “Tracy, let’s get out of this matchbox.”
My eyes were saturated with tears and my lips were sealed as they forged out of my room, laughing and making jest of me.
Why she called my name was still a mystery to me.
WATCH OUT FOR PART 68