PEOPLE ISH: On Pins and Scented Candles

PINS AND SCENTED CANDLES

   I visited her house today. She had asked, asked and implied,
 "I made egwusi soup, shey you will eat?" She would say, after one Physics class on vector algebra.

I would mumble, laugh and change the subject. We were not that close.

  But, it had rained this morning and I had predicted that few people would be in class. And because immediately that thought ebbed my mind went to her, I have not seen that girl in class for some time now. I had called her, that early, twice. She picked up and let my 'Hellos' fall on silence and she did not also come for the other classes so I decided to go to her house.

  I do not think I should have gone, but something in the melodrama of that morning, the lonely feeling of class, the cool from rainy breezes that touched my clothes and insisted on being more to me than just air, drove me to see her.

  I asked Linda to take me there, she declined and instead 'described' the place to me, she had described it so well that I had no need to ask questions on my way, smart chick.

  At her lodge's gate, I hesitated, "I'm here already," I said under my breath.

  I looked at my WhatsApp messages for self-comfort, then knocked. The sound of my knuckles hitting metal so hard, surprised me.

 

  Her lodge's gateman by the looks of him opened it,
  "Who are you looking for?"

  "Maria,"

  "OK," he eyed me as he spoke.

  I climbed up the stairs and stopped at the netted door he described as the 'dead-end' to the stairs.

  I did not knock here, it felt too intrusive. I called her name, quietly, then loudly, again and again. 

  She opened the door, looking sleepy, she just slept in, I was relieved.

  Embarrassed at my own relief, I sputtered, "How far?" Her eyes widened, her frame stiff at the entrance to the small room I could see behind it.

  I understand now, she thought she was a mess with bobby pins holding her 'attachment' up and her drowsy face but just then I had thought she looked shocked, scared, defensive so I moved away and opened my lips to mutter something about just being around and deciding to drop by, and leave.

  Then she smiled, the surprise leaking out slowly from her eyes, "Daniel," she said and let me pass.

  Her room had presence, I couldn't shake off the feeling it soaked me in, it was warm, her wall painted a bright purple and her smell was everywhere, a mellow Nivea™ scent. 

 

  I felt...I think I felt safe.

  She was direct and braless, I had not noticed the latter before then, that's odd. We talked, she asked me what was taught in school, I responded, explained to her, showed her my notes, asked her why she wasn't in school.

  Something started burning; she yelped and bounced towards the new looking, orange camping gas in the corner of the room. I thought: no wonder the room got so hot, I thought I was just nervous.

 She cursed, "Shit" as she brought it down with her bare palms then she flailed her hands, "Shit," she said again, "God! Why?!" Raising her hands to the sky in frustration. I laughed.

  The smell was making me hungry, I told her (because I felt safe.)

  She came to the study table with a plate of Jollof rice, "You distracted me," she accused. I apologized.

  We ate together in silence, she sat perched on the top of the wooden table; I sat down on a plastic chair and tried not to look at her top, for too long.

  I took the plate out when I noticed she wouldn't, she was going through WhatsApp status on her phone, chuckling at loud videos.

  I was getting bored, I asked if she played Scrabble, she was revved. She beat me, twice, on my own phone and I, deciding that I would not succumb to playing to win because it would make the game boring, left, not having resolved anything, I had forgotten to ask why she hadn't been in class for a week.

  I left with Sia's Bird Set Free echoing in my thoughts, her smell hanging around me and feeling really good.

  I kept coming. This girl would refuse to feed me and say I was becoming a liability and we would laugh, and I would say,
"Instead of just saying you're broke." And we would laugh again.

  We are friends. I know the smell of Nivea™ now and I've come to associate the taste of Jollof rice with her. I started to like her books, beautiful poetry books and African prose; Camara Laye, Ben Okri, Ngozi Adichie, I wish she calls my name the way she calls theirs, softly, romantically. I romanticize her name but she's not mine. She only calls me, "Human being" or spits out, "Daniel," when I make a teasing comment.

 I had thought she wanted more, turned out more to her was laughing awkwardly after staring at me for too long and making me say, "What?!"

  I wonder, if I should ask her again, "What do you expect from this relationship?" And face her laughter again, absorb her taunting, " I didn't even know this was a relationship," and how the room got quiet after that.

  She asked me to get her scented candles on her birthday.

  Scented candles? Where did that come from? I thought. "That's why my house smells like that nah," she said, responding to my unasked question referring to some past compliments I had made about the presence in her room.

  I do the visiting, she the calling.

  It's good like this.

  I guess.