The Last Bus
(Episode 3)
At about quarter past eight, I dashed into Jibowu Park, all drenched in sweat and my rucksack flung over my shoulder like a refugee. My heartbeat spun out of control when I heard a young lady telling someone on the phone that the last bus to Port Harcourt was almost full. I raised my head towards the ticket office and saw thongs of people rushing there. My temperature spiked. I ran as fast as I could to the ticket office, and fortunately, I got one of the last three tickets. I sang Halleluyah in my heart.
I got inside the bus and settled for one of the empty seats, sitting by the window. No sooner than I settled down, I started hearing a noise outside. I turned to the window to see what was happening. A fat woman was quarrelling with a younger lady. It was funny how the fat woman struggled to keep her black beret in place with one hand while holding a small boy with the other during the heated exchange of words. With her free-flowing red striped-shirt and full-length black skirt, I had no doubt that she must be one of those Mothers-in-the-Lord heading for a crusade. She wore no earrings and no makeup.
From what I gathered from the heated exchange, it seemed Mother-in-the-Lord had cheated the young lady out of the last ticket. The lady was in tears and calling her all sorts of names to which Mother-in-the-Lord responded by calling on the host of heaven to come down and cast out the demon that had possessed the lady. People soon waded in, and the young lady sorrowfully left the park while Mother-in-the-Lord headed towards the bus.
She soon boarded the bus and set her eyes on the empty seat beside me. I said a quick prayer and grumbled in my head, ‘Abeg make this woman no come sit for person side before she go suffocate person for this chair.’ As if she could hear my thought and wanted to punish me for it, she headed straight for the seat.
Then she suddenly stopped and took a look at the empty seat in front of mine. Her gaze oscillated between both places for a moment as if she was reciting eeny, meeny, miny, moe in her head. The little boy watched on, waiting for his mother to make her choice. I continued praying in my mind that the lot fell on the seat in front. Eventually, her gaze dropped on the one beside me. I resigned to my fate immediately. Then her brow furrowed. She looked at the seat again and then me. She scrutinised me from head to toe. Her penetrating look almost bore holes into my skin. “Hian!” disgustedly, she uttered as she made a quick switch as if afraid I was going to infect her with poverty. She must have seen my shoes. Anyway, I heaved a sigh of relief when she eventually settled into the seat in front, carrying the boy on her laps.
I ignored the woman and her attitude and dug my hand into my bag to bring out my pen. The pen fell and rolled under the chair. I bent down to pick it up and felt some movements close by. My nose picked up the scent of lovely perfume. It smelled familiar. I raised my head and, lo and behold, towering above me was Tesko trying to settle into the seat next to me. She was surprised to see me, but the surprise quickly melted into her signature, entrancing smile. I remained glued to a spot, looking at her as though I just saw an oyinbo with tribal marks.
What a transformation! Adorned in a floral crop top worn over a black vest that covered her navel, she looked more angelic than a nerd. Her slim jeans, reaching slightly above her ankle with its hem turned up, added elegance to her physique. And against the backdrop of her smooth fair skin, her luxuriant, richly-oiled, dark hair was well-styled and amplified her ethereal beauty. Staring into her grey eyes was like staring at a hypnosis pendulum. Ironically, I now looked more of a tesko than she did.
“You again?” She broke me out of my mesmeric state.
“Oh, Tesko!” I said before realising it.
“Tesko, a dork?” She drawled with a frown. “Is that what you call me?”
“Erm …” I stuttered, scratching my head. “No! I meant your beauty made me a tesko.” I lied.
Fortunately, she fell for it. She smiled once more, revealing those large incisors. “I am Fiona,” she said, stretching her hand for a handshake.
“Wow, what a beautiful name,” I shook her hand. “I’ve only heard that name once—in Shrek.”
“Shrek? You watch cartoons?” She took her seat next to me.
That was how the conversation started. Before long, we became so engrossed in our little world that all the chattering and noise in the bus soon faded into oblivion. Not even the humming of the engine or the whooshing sound as the bus sliced through the air could distract us except seldom interruptions from the loquacious Mother-in-the-Lord who spoke out of point each time. There was an instant connection between us that I found hard to explain. You know that feeling you get when you eventually meet that one person your soul had yearned for many years? Well, maybe my joblessness was playing tricks on me. I never could tell.
For hours we communicated freely amidst smiles and laughter. I learnt that Fiona was travelling for the compulsory one-year National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) programme. It was her first time on a night journey too, but unlike me, she seemed rather thrilled by it.
At about 1 a.m, we had gone past Ore. By this time, the majority of the passengers had slept off. Even Fiona had started dozing off, nestling her head on my shoulder. I could feel the tenderness of her cheek, and as the breeze blew her luxuriant hair against my face, I savoured the richness and aroma of this crown of beauty. I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and released it gradually through my mouth. I felt an urge to stroke the hair.
Suddenly, I looked up and saw a burning fire dancing in the middle of the road ahead of us. We had already passed a couple of checkpoints, but something was not right about this one. I sat up from my slouched position, taking care not to wake Fiona up, and steadied my gaze on the scene ahead. My muscles began to stiffen, and my nose started twitching uncontrollably. I usually felt this strange whenever danger was lurking around somewhere. I knew there was trouble.
To be continued … Watch Out for the Next Episode!
