Short story: O Belinda !
“Just shut up!!! I said shut up!! I said shut your mother…” The hands were already around her neck.
“This time I will take your head off!” said her sister.
“NO YOU NOT!!”
I was watching the two teenagers tear, pull, pinch each other apart and I didn’t know what to do. This was my first time in Belinda’s house and this was my future lover’s territory. I prayed and hoped that none of them was Belinda. O Belinda, sweet, proud, beautiful Belinda. The Sun woke up and slept to Belinda. The only problem is that I have seen her from afar and my friend who was her classmate had arranged for me to finally meet her. I had put on my Sunday clothes and asked the barbed to make me into a beau.
I was pulled back to reality when I saw a man come out in white shirt, black plants, a belt in hand, and the fury of God in his eyes. The top of his head was polished and shining with pearls of sweat. I knew that was the dad. I wished at that moment for the power of invisibility. It took me some serious effort not to laugh at the scene of the two sisters rearranging each other’s dress and hair as if nothing had happened. The father was fuming, but the scene of his two daughters attending to each other seemed to have done the trick because he sent them to their room in a low and ugly voice. He finally noticed that I was standing there.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m…I’m…I’m Felix and I’m here to see Belinda. I’m a friend.” What’s that supposed to mean I am a friend?
He looked me up and down and judged me safe enough to yell in the hallway; Beeeelinda!!! His booming voice left me unbalanced and unsure as to whether I should be here.
Then she appeared. Doubts flew away and a twenty pound stone lodged in my throat.
“What?” she said. She noticed her book in my arm. “Oh you brought me the chemistry book?” I handed it to her.
“You are Felix right? like Felix Wazekwa. Franco told me about you. Did anyone ever told you guys to make a band in memory of those iconic musicians you carry the names?” I smiled. She wasn’t the first to say that. I pumped my chest and said:
“Well you will have to convince Franco because I have been trying to get him to do that.”
“Really? Can you sing?”
” No, but I write lyrics and play a little bit of piano.”
“Wow. I would love to hear you guys play one of these days. I’m sure Tony would too.”
“You know Tony?”
Who didn’t know Tony? Tony to whom Heaven and Earth belonged: Rich parents Tony. Captain of the soccer team Tony. Straight A student Tony. Most popular guy Tony.
“Yeah I know him.”
“Yes he’s been telling me how he’s been thinking about picking up the drums one day.”
“Fascinating. Listen, I have to go but see you at school all right?”
“Sure thanks for the book and say hi to Franco for me.”
O how I hated my Sunday clothes! How I hated Tony Mukendi Wakwetu. One of the sisters seemed to have noticed my frustration as I went to the door. She handed me a note and then ran as fast as her little legs could carry her back to the house. I opened it and read written with lipsticks in bold:
I heart you.
I looked back at the window to see her giving me a toothless smile; I couldn’t help myself but smile back and went home feeling a little bit better.