Читать книгу Under Fire - Chinedu Ogoke - Страница 9

Imoni was still bound to his bed, when Aham launched a cassette into the tape. But the loud sound was offensive at that hour. Yunusa was awake, but still had his legs inside a wrapper. Mickey was still missing. Aham left with a tooth-paste-laced brush, showing up after a lengthy passage of time. Some knocking sounded at his heels. “Yes? Who you? Just fall in.”

And somebody fell in. “Hey, guys.” The door closed behind the person. “Good morning, guys.”

“Good morning.”

“Why? It’s like these guys are still in bed.” He shook hands.

He wasn’t unfamiliar to them, but from a distance. He had started rolling with the music. Imoni sat up, robbing his eyes, while Yunusa put aside his wrapper to stretch himself out.

Their guest stopped dancing with the change of music. He sat on Aham’s bed. But he was up again. “That thing must be chrome.” He brought out the cassette. “Shit. Good. What did I say? You smell from afar anything you are accustomed to.” He replaced it, and the music continued, still so loud. He was one of high-pitched speech, with extensive ears and mouth, and a missing upper tooth and pimply face.

“Look,” he was saying, “there’s nothing like having big guys around wherever you are. Believe me, it’s like you guys are big thing.”

His listeners were all ears. “It’s like, by every standard, you’re big, and as a big guy, too,” he was pointing at his chest, “I have to recognise fellow big guys, not shade them. It’s like when I was posted to this hall, I discovered the place was a dead zone. And it’s like guys here are uncommunicative. Communication shouldn’t be just rap rap. You sound out the place, and get responses, and passers-by feel the impact. And it’s like the place looks like a hunger belt. The nuclear scientists here, for instance, outnumber normal guys.”

The others laughed. “So, we have a nuclear science research centre here?” Imoni asked.

He smiled. “Yes. It’s like a catchment basin of nuclear scientists. I even saw a professor beside your room, yesterday, placing a pot on a stove. I thought he was here, but I said no, those guys are too big for that.”

So there was radiation in the air, Imoni said, and he was sounding a warning. “I’m not sounding any warning,” he replied. “It’s like if your reputation means nothing to you, it’s different. I’ve been trying to relocate. After all, it will only cost a few tickets. But with duds like you, I may change my mind.”

They were fortunate to have him, Yunusa told him, and would hold unto him. How could they let him go? They wouldn’t afford to lose him. That would be a further blow to the place.

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s like you come back to the hostel, and you won’t hear good music. It’s like, people play their sounds so low you start wondering.... I’m yet to bring my sound box, if not, I would have blared them up to their senses. Thank God guys like you are around.”

“Well, we are happy about the compliment,” Aham’s voice woke up. “It’s always good to be lively.”

“Well, gentlemen,” the fellow said. “I’ve not introduced myself. My name is Cos.”

“That’s Cosmas?” Aham asked.

“Yes. But, Cos, not Cosmas. Cosmas is for yeye guys who do not understand.”

That drew laughter from his hosts.

“I’m Imoni.”

“Ahamefula.”

“No, Aham. I’ve heard it twice.”

“I’m Yunusa.”

They shook hands again.

“It’s like, go to other halls, especially halls A and B,” Cos continued. “Action, always. Parties. Music, babes all around. You know a place’s worth by the number of babe’s going there. It’s like I had to stay in the G.R.A., all the while. But now I’m here, I’m gonno paint the place red, and if possible, paint the whole town pink. Turn up the school. Everybody has to sit up to some action. Things can’t continue like this.”

The party drums were sounding around town, Aham said, and predictably drawing party enthusiasts. They were being regrettedly left out. How was he affected? Did he attend any yesterday, for instance? “I did,” he replied, “but the party was boring. It’s like I had to leave immediately. A friend suggested we should go to some other place. I said no, the same thing could happen. I’m even thinking of my own party. Why don’t you guys and I throw one?”

It would be wonderful, before attention shifted to studies, Imoni said. But money guaranteed a good party. They had such ideas, but the lack of money held down the most wonderful idea.

“Tickets?” Cos asked. “What are you saying? It’s like I shall provide that. You bring the chics, and other things. You know you’re older in the school.”

If they had such a support, they would go to work. Imoni still talked about what putting a good party together meant. Picking a suitable venue, for instance, and the movement of equipment to the place ought to be considered, too. The school would have been ideal.

“Not here,” Cos snapped. “I can’t stand not having alcohol around.”

He didn’t understand how things were done in the school, Imoni tried to convince him. Soft drinks bottles and paper cups could be adopted for alcoholic drinks. Wine could easily pass for soft drinks. Wine coming in or taking such container wasn’t dignifying and would adulterate the drinks, Cos said. He said he wouldn’t have any disguise in his party. “I don’t stand for that,” he repeated. “It’s like outside is still okay. A friend of mine can let me have his guest house, and a car. Friends around here can then help out. That would guarantee their admission.... By the way there’s this dud here. Light-complexioned. Handsome, like.”

That was Mickey, he was told. He was one of them, and was still out, partying. “That’s a big guy. It’s like I saw him in towel, clutching a bucket, and entering here, and knew he must be staying here.

“Yea, men,” he was still talking. “Why don’t we try this cassette?” He displayed a cassette. It’s like Mynot and some other reggae artists. He’s my darling artist. Number one on current chart. He’s coming to Lagos. The promoter is promising to introduce us.”

“You know the promoter?” Imoni asked

He laughed. “Why not? Comes to our house.”

With his dental kits, Imoni slipped out. When he came back, some music was blaring, loud. Cos danced and sang while others applauded. Yunusa, too, went out to clean up. Cos stopped dancing suddenly. “I don’t know why some people are so wretched in this world,” he said. “Living Sparingly.” His listeners were watching him calmly. “It’s like, if you don’t have tickets, why come to school to disgrace your family? Look, I entered a room, and can you believe what I saw? Guys pinched with poverty, smoking garri. And that was the second time I was...”

That mention of garri drew protests from all corners. “What’s wrong in that?” Aham countered. “If one has no tickets to throw shagallo at a restaurant, what do you expect one to do? Steal?”

“Then, you should not come to school to suffer. Some students even bring antiques as boxes to school. It’s like you don’t understand what I mean, anyway. Imagine garri, for instance.”

“Does it matter?” Aham asked. “I have zero plan this morning, so if I see garri to fill in, I shouldn’t soak it?”

Disbelief and disappointment showed on Cos’ face. “You would?”

Imoni said he too wouldn’t react any differently from Aham if he had such a wonderful opportunity. The thing being discussed was a delicacy. It was addictive. So, it was a simple guess on whose side he was. He was smiling.

Cos smiled, too. “Please, don’t do it. I know you guys are merely joking.”

Yunusa came in after having his bath. They presented the argument before him. “That thing is elitist in itself,” he replied. “If it comes my way, especially with cold water, and on a hot day, I will dive for it,” Yunusa said, “not to talk of pea-nuts to go with.”

Cos was out with some money. “Please, somebody should go and buy us something. It’s like I can’t stand you guys saying this thing.” But he had trouble passing over money to Yunusa who volunteered to buy the things. “How much do we need?” he asked. Twenty five naira, Yunusa told him. “Are you a swallow?” he asked. “How can you use so much pay? Take ten.” He supplied the money, but took back two naira that was following the first eight. “Eight naira will do,” he said.

“Well.” Yunusa accepted the money reluctantly, and ran off.

Imoni realised Cos’ hurt in surrendering so much money.

“Let me secure my room properly,” he said moments, later, “else guys would shave me.”

“Big mouth,” Aham said. “He’s worth nothing. I fence such guys.”

“He’s as poor as any of us.”

“And Yunusa could be so mean. He understood and hit the guy below the belt.”

“Yunusa is a fox. I guess Mickey isn’t like this guy.”

“Never, Mickey is equal to whatever he claims to be.”

“Let me fetch some water quickly.”

“Okay.”

Aham, and later Yunusa, re-emerged. Imoni’s intention for a quick shower succumbed to the enchanting reflection of bread and margarine quickly put together. The door burst open and Cos came in in restrained fury that easily suggested his suspicion of a possible treachery. “Hey, it’s like you guys could be funny,” he said. “What were you waiting for? You should have been done with the breakfast.”

“How could we do such a thing?” Yunusa asked, as they all sat around the breakfast.

“It’s like I was downstairs when I remembered my cassette. Had almost forgotten the breakfast.” All the while, his greedy eyes hardly strayed off the breakfast.

“That would have been most kind of you,” Imoni said, pouring tea into a tea cup.

Compelled by his greed, Cos swooped on the meal, spreading margarine thickly on bread. “It’s like everywhere, Cos,” he was saying in a mouthful. “Everybody wants my presence at his party.”

“It’s because of your acceptability and popularity. Nobody invites us here,” Aham told him.

“But I can’t honour all of them.”

Cos’ inability to discover the derision in Aham’s statement amused Imoni. “You can’t divide yourself,” he contributed. “Just choose the one’s you can attend and leave out those you cannot.”

“Nonsense,” he said in a muffled voice. “It’s like some people are not even afraid to invite me to their parties. A guy approached me yesterday for his party. From the look of him, despite his mint car, I knew he was an emergency guy. You know these forcing guys. I looked him up, asked him a few questions. It’s like his legs wobbled. I asked him to vamoose before I opened my eyes. I shade him ever since.”

“Isn’t that too harsh of you?” Yunusa asked him.

“You don’t know me, that’s why. I can be snobbish when somebody wants to insult me. It’s like you look at me before you dare invite me. Not every sme sme coming to invite me. Because I know the worth of my presence alone to the party.”

The breakfast was rushed to a quick end. “These guys ain’t seen the grandest party yet,” Cos said, after the meal. “I’m not boasting. It’s like I shall knock everybody crazy with my party. I just need your assistance. I hear Cynthia, Ijeoma and Lara, on one hand, and Olivia on another, want to slug it out. I wasn’t happy like when I heard it.”

“Why? Why weren’t you happy?” Aham asked him, with an amusing interest.

“Look,” he pointed, “it’s too bad for such movers to fall apart. I wept my eyes out when I heard it. Well, I shall unite them. Yes. My part will be a unification party. I swear,” he smiled hopefully at his discovery, “it will unite them. Lara, ljeoma, Olivia and Cynthia, in one party. That is it. Planning ahead of others. Being creative and innovative. Nothing like originality. l guess nobody ever thought of such idea, like.”

“I don’t think anybody has,” Yunusa admitted, assisting Imoni to clear the floor.

Cos looked at his watch. “I have a date with a babe by ten. She’s my girlfriend’s friend. She’s been like itching for her own fare share of the action, and I won’t refuse her.”

Aham was standing up. “That must be kind of you.”

“I can be ruthless like when I choose to. I’ve nothing to lose. Just attend to her and drop her. We were all out together the day before yesterday. Before you knew it, I was already getting into the next episode. I feared myself. Just soaked beyond repair’s. You know what they call CKD. Mummy, I’m sorry.” He removed the cassette, and was going to the door. “Catch you.”

“Yea, thank you for the blast,” both Imoni and Yunusa said.

Holding the door open, he said, “Tell the other dud I want to see him. It’s important.”

“Okay”

“And the party. Don’t forget, lt has to be big. You and I.”

“Yea. Bye.” Yunusa helped him with the door, and even locked it, with a mischievous smile.

“Strange creatures keep creeping out of termite holes everyday,” Aham remarked. “Hear him. Beyond repairs. That insignificant quantity.”

Imoni dropped the empty margarine can into a waste basket. “I wonder where this one came from. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to leave. But he’s blasted us.”

Meanwhile, Yunusa had struck a match, and begun to smoke. “Imoni, you’re not going out?”

“I’m in-doors all day.”

“I, too. Care for Whot?”

“Okay.”

Snaps of “Imoni, Waltz, they must be inside,” coursed through the music waves. It was Mickey’s Don Cornelius.

Yunusa raised his face to Imoni. “Mickey!”

The door swung inwards, and Mickey, in dark spectacles, with a muscular fellow, strolled in, business-like, like a benevolent host coming into a refugee hideout with bountiful relief.

His mien registered his expectation at his gesture. So they heralded his man.

“My,” Yunusa exclaimed, “this guy has the works.”

“Hey, guys,” Mickey said earnestly in a Don Cornelius, but cheerily. “Whatz ap?”

“We’re reckless,” Aham answered.

The young man had psyched himself already as though for the real tournament. Imoni took a quick look at him. Ignoring the slightly cold weather, the young man turned out in red shorts, and a light, black shirt which shot out his shoulders and chest. His physical arrangement wasn’t intolerable, but not one to push into that scanty combination. He hadn’t an exceptional face, contrary to Mickey’s earlier declaration. Imoni’s eyes went down to the legs. They had no good commentary for their owner. Askew and thin, they rebelled against the tolerable symetry of the rest of the body, and held a laughable picture. They were suited, not for modelling, but for comic theatre. How they cried for concealment. Amusement danced in Aham’s eyes, but he checked himself. “So, these are the guys I was telling you about,” Mickey was telling his friend who stood on his unsure feet. “This is Imoni.” His hand performed the role. “It’s like, Imoni Waltz rocked the school last session for two nights with the Waltz Band. He’s a socialite, and a mover.”

“Hello,” Mickey’s friend shook Imoni’s hand strongly to emphasise strength and live up to rating.

“And. this is Aham. Aham is a hidden strength, and a silent oppressor. It’s like Aham has a charisma that speaks for itself.”

Aham smiled. “All for me?”

“Happy to know you, Aham.”

They shook hands powerfully. “And if there is any enigmatic guy here, it is this fella, Yunusa. Yunusa could be so sleek like and unreliable that if I were a dame he’s dating, I would run when I hear run.” Yunusa and their guest shook hands firmly, too. Mickey prepared his throat for his friend, who posed a straight focus, hands behind him like a dumb boxing ring athlete. “So, this is Ed,” his hand delivered. “I told you ’bout him.” They nodded. “It’s like, Ed is a babe’s doll. A prince charming. He could be surprisingly unassuming. In fact, he refused bluntly to contest for the Mr. Unimaid crown, but has to bow to pleas from admirers.”

“Ah, it’s good he’s featuring,” Aham complemented. “One should utilize one’s natural assets to one’s benefit. Also, it’s good to admit that one is good, and to step out, chest out. Don’t you think so, too, Imoni?”

“Of course. That’s something I admire in my life. Boldness. Guts. After all, only a few of us are so gifted. You don’t buy it at Sherifsons or Kawu. And you know what? Some other guy would just die with his qualities. I assure you of our support.”

“Great, convex chests.”

“Yea, that says it all.” Yunusa put up a finger. “Count on us. Win you will.”

“In fact,” Mickey had started saying. “Ed has clinched this thing like, without even stepping out. Has himself to beat. The babes already have given it to him, the polls don’t lie.... Wonderful biceps.”

Ed tensed the biceps. His popped out chests bounced off Imoni’s interfering fingers.

“With the best symmetry around yet.... Marvellous, intimidating shoulders, ones the babes say could make Stallone green in the face.” At this stage, Ed raised the shoulders, brought them down, and moved them a little forward, gradually. “Then these lion thighs.” Mickey respectfully patted one of them. “And you know Ed’s joker?”

How could they? He hesitated effectively. “It’s the walk. It’s like, he has natural cat walk. Yesterday, a dame exclaimed it was rather a wild, feline cat walk, and I was ashamed that I hadn’t detected that already.”

“The girls should know better,” Yunusa said.

“Can we see the cat walk?” Imoni requested.

“Oh, sure. Right, Ed.”

Ed moved gradually to and fro the little length of the room in inflexible, macho gait. “Good walk,” Aham exploded.

“Okay.” Mickey raised a hand. “Girls get the blue works whenever Ed demonstrates. It’s like, he’s always sending them screaming, shouting, ‘Rewind’ each time. They are all simply consumed by it.

“Ed isn’t finished yet,” he continued. “Check out his dancing steps. Oh, no.” His fingers snapped in his mood. “It’s like, this is where the judges will wrap it up. Remember the movie Break Dance? A guy with such features, and such step?”

“I was even going to ask,” Imoni interrupted him. “You know there will be a dancing competition among the contestants.”

Mickey was annoyed. “Imoni, It’s like you’re not concentrating. Ed will give it to them, whichever way they want it. He won’t be a contestant. He will scare them. Some guys already are withdrawing. He has everything packed, like. Now, can we have some music?”

“Of course.” Imoni obliged him. He inflated the volume.

“No.” Mickey’s hand went up. “That music isn’t worth jiving. Try this cassette.” He fished out a cassette.

Imoni substituted the cassettes. The volume was loud enough, but Mickey signalled for more volume. He sighed now with satisfaction. Ed followed the music with his head and foot, counting, then he jumped up. He was flexing his muscles, rolling his body, squatting and rising, like jelly with the music, and jerking and demonstrating with flattened, hand glides. Imoni felt he scored twenty five percent in the earlier stanzas, and danced close to forty. But his progress on the chart took a plunge. He tried a quick, sedentary swivel, but something stopped him. “It’s alright, Ed,” Mickey announced. “Curse that bed. Hope you aren’t injured.”

“Nope.”

“It’s like the size of the room doesn’t even help matters. But you can see for yourself.”

Ed crashed numbly beside Imoni. Mickey uncovered a packet of cigarettes and freed a stick. “It’s like, I didn’t even remember. There are the poses. But it’s a pity time’s against us. The prelim is starting tomorrow.”

“The thing is even close,” Aham observed.

Ed and Yunusa each collected a stick of cigarette, and lit up.

“I just feel like tasty,” Ed complained.

“Wait until we get to trade fair,” Mickey advised him. “Getting soft drinks now gonno waste more time.” Then he turned to the others. “I would have enlisted, as well, but it’s like, I changed my mind.” He blew smoke. “Got my hand full already, managing Ed. And, it’s like, who would have entered for a local championship? Ed has his eyes set for John Player, both national and world, of which his opponents will scamper.” His hand chased them into hiding. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a Mr. Continental competition right now, both of us would have entered, and spectators would have been standing on their seats.”

Finally with good wishes from his hosts, Mickey walked out proudly with his ward.