MY WIFE IS A STRIPPER
CHAPTER TWO
“Fred!! Fred!!” I woke up sweating and panting. “What kind of dream was that?” I pondered.
My Uncle Steve and his wife Patricia have been married for three years now. I have never suspected anything between them. They’ve been happy for years, even without a child. I was still worried about the dream I had when I realized someone was calling me.
“Fred!!” the voice scolded even more urgently.
“Yes! Who’s there?” I asked, trying to recognize the voice.
“Open this door, my friend!” my Uncle Steve scolded. Fear gripped me, and I quickly rushed to the door and opened it. In my haste, I pricked my pinky finger on a nail by the door, and blood started oozing out.
“Are you daft? What are you still doing in bed at this time?” he asked, ignoring the fact that blood was coming out of my hand.
“I… I am sorry, sir. I… I slept late yesterday.”
“Why won’t you sleep late when you spend all your time on your phone and computer?” He began to look a little concerned as he noticed the blood from my hand. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, handing me a tissue from my table.
“I pricked my finger on the door while I was trying to open it for you, sir!” He placed his finger on his forehead and shook his head.
“Did I not ask you to take a hammer and fix those nails, Fred? Why can’t you just follow simple instructions? This is why your mum sent you here—because you are so irresponsible.” He angrily charged out. A few minutes later, he was back, throwing a bottle of spirit and cotton on my bed. “Take that and clean that wound. By the way, why didn’t you clean my car yesterday?”
“Uncle, I…”
“Yeah! As usual, excuses upon excuses! Get ready for church service. This is the last time I will remind you of something like this since you’ve decided to be irresponsible.” He left my room, and I quickly cleaned up the wound.
Uncle Steve and I practically grew up together in my mom’s family house before my mom, my younger siblings, and I traveled abroad. He used to be very nice and sweet. He also used to smoke and follow women a lot! But after an accident, he suddenly became a transformed man of God. Still, I sometimes catch him stealing glances at some of our curvy neighbors. He built his church on one of his father’s lands. When he started as a pastor, he didn’t have many followers, but he continued until he married Patricia. Since then, things took a U-turn for the better. He is in his mid-40s, bulky, and limps on one leg. But tell him that, and you’re a dead man.
He, just like my mom, believes I have an evil spirit in me. This was simply because of a stupid dare my friends and I were playing in my living room. My friend dared me to kiss another guy. They knew how disgusted I was with same-s*x relationships and did it to spite me. I had no choice because if I didn’t, I had to pay $500, which I didn’t have. Well, the moment my lips pressed on another man’s, my mom opened the door and caught me red-handed.
You’d be stupid to believe you could ever get away with such a thing when my mom had seen it. She went to her family group and reported me, and immediately I was shipped back to Africa, where they believed I would be disciplined. I was a bad boy, I had a tattoo on my chest, drank alcohol to the brim, but that one thing I could never do is what they believed I was capable of. I was sent back under the guise of representing my mom in something. When I arrived and left my belongings at home to attend the meeting, my uncle confiscated my documents. When I found out, I threatened him, and he burned them. Now I am stuck with him in Africa. Since then, my relationship with my mom has deteriorated, though she occasionally sends me money and tries to reach out. I only talk to her when my uncle is beside me.
His wife Patricia is a girl he met in church. She appears to be calm, quiet, and loving—a typical Mamie Pastor, or better still, Mama! I don’t know why, but my spirit doesn’t match hers. This is my second year in my uncle’s house since I returned, but I still don’t like her.
My mom used to tell us stories about her and my uncle. How they met and how my uncle was captivated by her. It’s only after I saw her that I understood why he had married her. She had a broad waist, looked beautiful, was tall, and had long legs. She wasn’t fat, but her big waist made her look really attractive. She was also fair in complexion and in her late 20s, just a few years older than I was.
“Fred!” she called out.
“Yes! What has Fred done to you people in this house?” I answered, rushing out of the bathroom.
“Your uncle said to tell you he’s not going to wait for you anymore. Make sure to come to church.” She rushed off, and a few minutes later, I heard them driving out.
I quickly arranged my things, locked up the doors and the gate. It was a Sunday morning, and all the bike riders in my junction had gone to play ball. I had to walk from the house to the main road, which took me at least 45 minutes. I stood there, flagging down taxis, but no one was going my way. It took another 15 minutes before I could get one.
By the time I arrived at church, Pastor Steve had already preached. It was worship time, and I sneaked into the church, thinking my uncle hadn’t seen me. Everything went well, and everyone felt blessed by his sermon. My uncle and his wife, hand in hand, walked around and greeted Christians. They were accompanied by a certain elder who looked familiar. It was surprising because I wasn’t used to the elders in that church. I always just attended and minded my own business, though I knew a few youths who were in the choir because they were my neighbors.
I stood there, staring and trying to figure out where I had seen this man when suddenly someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“You don’t want to change, do you?” he said.
“Excuse you?” I turned to see who it was.
TO BE CONTINUED
