Short Stories, Tale Africa

Surviving on Old Prayers (03)

By Vimbai Lole, Zimbabwe:

Ephesians 4: 31- 32.   Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you. With all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as God in Christ forgave you.

Mercy, my cousin who has also been hovering over me for the entire hour I was awake, brings me a cup of tea as soon as I am up from the nap she forced me to take. The herbal tea is like a recharge for my system, and everything comes back to me. My dad not being my dad, and my mum almost dying in his hands.

It has been a long day, its almost 8 o'clock now; 7 hours since my failed rendezvous with Tazzy which basically was the death of my whole life career – where do I apply for a new life? This is the part where a rich person buys another identity and relocates to some country in the armpits of the world and then spends the rest of his or her days drinking coconuts juice and decide the sun is better to bath in than water. But not me folks, not me; too broke for that, don't be broke, I recommend having stinking money, seriously.

Mercy informs me that my mum has been admitted in hospital, but is stable and that my ex-dad is at the police station. What am I supposed to feel right now? I just feel like trash, Dolce and Gabbana trash, but trash all the same. And I am mad at my mum, she is…she is that word, my ex-dad, that word too and Tazzy? To sleep with my mum and then with me in the same lifetime, did he know I am his child? I feel violated, what have I been doing? Is life any more manageable after you find out you have enjoyed sex with your own father? I honestly don't have anyone to blame, I am not the victim here and no one will treat me like one. I have to toughen up, like always. I have to talk to my mum and Tazzy.

I lock my door and call Tazzy. His answer is that of someone who has been expecting a call.

“Babe, are you okay? I am worried but couldn't risk showing up again, what happened after I left?”

I cringe; my father is calling me babe in the most unclean way imaginable and he is a coward, despicable. I have to say what I need to say over the phone, the thought of seeing him is too much.  So I tell him; I tell him how I woke up in hospital and all that happened in between till the second I woke up a few minutes ago. “Mum says I am your child, is it true Tazzy, did you know?” I ask as the only sign of life on the other side of the line is short and quick – breathing, he is almost gasping for air and bam! Silence…the idiot cut the call on me. Cutting a call on someone is a cardinal sin, just like blue-ticking a person in a whatsapp chat. I bet every time someone does that karma says, “I saw that!” Then you don't know why you start finding dead flies at the bottom of your tea cup, or bumping your pinkie toe against the corners of furniture and why you end up only falling for people who don't like you back.

Tonight I am karma. I check the time, a little past 8 o'clock in the evening, I have work tomorrow but darn it. I grab my ex-dad's car keys and go out quietly.

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