Writing 101, Day Thirteen: Serial Killer 2
Earlier in the course, you wrote about losing something. Today, write about finding something. For your twist, view day four’s post and today’s post as instalments in a series.
I found out today that there was more to your innocence and calmness than you portrayed. Yes I suspected that you might be in some funny association, but hey it was just a thought. Wait a minute, what am I on about? You told me about it, so why am I feeling as if I found out myself.
It must have been one of those ‘dare or truth’ moments and looking-somewhat-sheepishly-or-embarrassed-to-speak, you began.
“I don’t want you to be upset about what I’m going to say, I mean well” stumbling over a few of your words for someone who speaks flawlessly.
“Yea, what’s up?” I replied trying to pretend I was calm whilst imagining the worst news ever.
“You see that ring with a dark stone I always wear and don’t let you touch” (trying to describe this funny ring I noticed on your finger sometime back and had queried you on) “It’s not an ordinary ring” you concluded.
“How do you mean?” I asked stepping away from you as a feeling of sudden dread came upon me.
“Nothing to be afraid” you replied, reaching out but I pulled away. “I wear it when I’m out of the house just so I know who is planning evil against me” you continued.
Interested, I asked “So how does this work?”
“If an evil-doer is around me, I feel a heat sensation on that finger”
“Do you know the repercussion of wearing this ring? What if something bad happens to you?” my questions poured at you. “Please dispose of it; I don’t want it around you anymore.”
The D-day came shortly. Painting your picture to my mum had made her ache to see who had captured my heart. This new Eva was one she liked and she needed to know who made it so. It’s been years now, and I can’t remember that meeting day but knowing mummy, I’m sure she offered you some refreshments and the questions began, while I pretended to be busy inside the kitchen and the next minute my room. Of course that entire journey had to take me across the sitting room where I would eavesdrop while walking past both of you. And seeing you calmly seated and answering her questions made me join you two there.
“Darling, did you know that Wande’s mum (Peggy) and I taught in the same school?” Mum said to me.
I had outdone myself, I soliloquized. Was this a good sign?
“Go to the box of pictures and bring them over, I have something to show you,” she continued.
That box of pictures was an easy find as every time we wanted to poke fun at mum over her olden days dressing, Afro hair and simple makeup, we always pulled it out. Going through the collection of pictures, she brought out one. Fair, bright eyes, full African sensual lips and Afro hair, a beauty untainted by harsh weather or life’s condition, she sat beside three rows of children. The first row had the pupils seated, the next row some stood; while the last row stood on a bench so that the final outcome was like a pyramid. Mum looked really beautiful. Auntie Peggy on the other hand was chocolate complexion equally beautiful and her hair made in some lovely African style. Looking closely, I noticed a cute boy standing between her legs and to my shock – it was you!
By our love, mum had re-discovered her long lost friend and what a joy that her friend’s son was in hot pursuit of her daughter if only she knew that by this discovery and encouraging us she would ‘lose’ me. I’m positive she’d send you parking that very moment.