The Maid’s Son: A ‘little drama’ for Nama
By JJ Mponye:
I was completely sober when I went over to Pam's place that Friday evening. I refused to drink the red wine that she offered me. “Wine will weaken me,” I thought. I knew and felt that I was in control. I had actually convinced myself, before setting off from the office, that I was strong enough to resist her manipulation. All I wanted to do was face her, as a man, and tell her off. But within no more than two hours of my visit Pam had soared thrice! And I was left wondering where all my strength had evaporated to.
Before we finally spoke again, I noticed that all that could pass for clothing had been recklessly strewn all over the red floral carpet below our feet. Pam was firmly rooted on my lap. I drew her face closer with my arms and felt her heart threatening to tear out of her chest into mine. We briefly looked into each other's eyes before she closed hers. Then we kissed. When she finally opened her eyes, after what felt like eternity, Pam asked me to stay for the night. I just looked into her eyes and smiled as if to say, “You know I was just about to propose that.” We were enjoying every moment. One would have thought that I had never despised her before.
When Pam suggested that evening, after meeting me with Monica, “I hope we can meet this evening and talk about this…” I knew I would be in deep trouble if I ignored her. Here was Tricia's most trusted friend thinking that I had slept with the maid. And I really did not know if, and how, she was going to use this against me. I had hurt her before and this was probably a good opportunity for her to get back at me. I knew I had to try and save myself the possible embarrassment.
So after seeing my last patient, I picked my mobile and called Tricia. I wanted to propose a meeting at The Koporet's Bar, just opposite my clinic. But Pam didn't even let me say any more than a hello. “Oh, hi J.J. Sorry I left town earlier because I wasn't feeling so well. Please find me at home. If it is okay with you! Don't feel pressured to come if you don't want to. But I will really appreciate having a doc take a look at me.” Then she hung up!
Pam came out quickly to open the gate for me when I hooted. I was shocked to see her mass stuffed in a T-shirt, underneath which was no bra, and what appeared to be a school boy's short suffering defilement. Her pink gown was unfastened and basically failed at performing its job. “You are really not sick, are you?! I greeted her while driving in. “Well now I feel much better thank you.”
“Welcome to my humble home J.J. I can't believe you have finally come to my house. I think it is going to rain tonight.” Pam joked. Although my wife had visited Pam on several occasions, I always found a reason not to accompany her. I knew the location of her home simply because it was near a friend's place.
Pam's home wasn't what you would call a humble one: everything in it was classy! She must have spent her time and money to pick the best of what Kampala had to offer. The seating room had a large coffee brown sofa set arranged in a semi circle. A matching glass coffee table, with a colorful bouquet in a vase, stood quite majestically in the center. In one of the corners was a fifty inch plasma screen. To one side was glass bookshelf carrying a range of legal books, magazines and novels. The air was dozed in floral notes that were constantly being exuded by the flowers on both the coffee and dining tables.
“Can I take a look around?” I asked, wanting to pick up ideas for improving my home. “Please feel free, I can show you around. Just follow me.” Pam gladly answered.
Several minutes later we were back to the seating room. Pam served me hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies.
“I have wine in the fridge, if you care for some,” She offered later on. I just shook my head. We talked a bit about Tricia and her conference. Then we quickly ran out of conversation. I wanted to bring up the topic of Monica, because that is why I had come to Pam's place, but I didn't know exactly how to. I wanted her to ask but she didn't seem like she even cared.
Then when I thought I had found an easier topic to deal with I started, “Pam, you said you were not feeling well, what is the problem?” I didn't know then that I had opened the wrong door.
“You should check me and tell me. I think I have a fever. I am not sure. I have a slight lingering headache. I was feeling a little nauseated earlier. I really don't know. You tell me what it is. You are the doctor.”
I hesitated a little before moving over to check if she had a fever. She didn't! I thought of going back to my seat immediately but felt rather awkward. And before I could make up my mind on that Pam was already on to breast cancer. She wanted me to teach how to check for abnormal lumps and all that.
What started as a simple demonstration, one that I was performing very hesitantly and roughly, eventually erupted into a ball of fiery lust. It ended up with Pam asking me to stay for the night. My phone suddenly rang while we were still holding onto each other, not wanting to let go. I tried to bend so I could pick the phone from my trousers. “Don't even think about answering that call,” Pam said as she moved closer for a kiss. The phone rang persistently.
Then I suddenly felt someone shaking me violently. I awoke only to see Nama kneeling besides me sticking a phone into my face, “Uncle, uncle. Your phone has been ringiiiiiiiing but you were not hearing.” It was Pam! I had come home to take a rest before calling her to arrange a meeting in town. Then I dozed off as I watched TV.
“Eh, uncle, whatever you have been dreaming about! Aha! I swear that chair must be pregnant with twins now. I have to tell auntie about this. I think you have missed her a lot!” Nama teased. I could tell she had enjoyed the spectacle: all that I had done to the chair! I felt very embarrassed and somehow wished that I could have shared my dream with Nama and asked her to pray for me instead.
Pam later sent a message, “Hi dear. I am sorry something has come up. We'll link up another time. But I really want to hear the juicy details of you and your maid!” I quickly erased the message.