Facade (Romola 1)

49: Dami's rice

Olumide’s blood cooled as he packed his car under the car canopy beside his house. He turned off the engine and tumbled out the car, nearly falling into the prickly branches of the green plants at the side of the wall. He placed his hand on the black and white giraffe patterned wall and took a minute to catch his breath.

Everything had to be perfect but everything was going upside down.
His heart rate slowed to a steady beat. He walked around his car taking a left to the interlocking tiles leading to the black door of his house. He opened the door, strolling in with half a mind to peel off his clothes and shed his skin in a tub of cold water.

The blast of cool air as well as the scent of Jasmine and camomille hit him as he shut the door. The heat that had caused pools of sweat to map his clothes dispersed under the reign of the air conditioner. Dami sat on one end of the dinning table, gobbling some rice.

Olumide’s heart picked up its pace at the sight of the food.

Romola.

Breakfast.

The kiss.

He had forgotten all about it the moment he stepped out of the house.
He walked to the refrigertor and pulled out a bottle of water. He turned but stopped midway as his gaze caught the pot on the stove. He opened the pot. The content still looked very much like how he had left it when he dished a seperate plate for himself.

He stared at the empty plate beside Dami’s half empty one.“Where is Romola?”

“I thought she was with you.”

Olumide averted his eyes from the content of his friend’s mouth and focused on the empty plate. “Did you eat all the rice in this plate?”

“Why are you saying it as if I ate the whole pot?” Dami scopped several spoons of rice into his mouth without stopping to chew. “Don’t touch the one in the pot. I’ll eat it too.”

“Glutton.”

“I’m not a glutton. I just really love rice.”

“Dami, were you the only one that ate the rice in these plates?” Olumide propped his waist against the table.

“Is there another rice loving Dami in this house?”

“Answer me.”

“I found them in the fridge. You are interrupting my process of devouring food and I don’t appreciate it.” Dami gave him a straight face.

Olumide lifted his waist off the table. “Are you sure you haven’t seen Romola?”

“I have. She was in the rice and I’ve eaten her. You can check my stomach since you don’t want my food to digest in peace.” Dami’s stoic look did not match the ridiculous statment.

“Fish.” Olumide flicked Dami’s temple then leaped out of Dami’s reach before jogging towards the staircase.

Upstairs, he walked to the main living room. Everything was prisine and the transperent nylon that protected the furniture remained unmoved. He turned around and shut the door, turning the key in its hole. Some of Muyi’s things were to remian untouched.

He walked a few steps forward to the room he had assigned to Romola. It used to be his sisters. He peeked into the room. It bore the same features as the living room. Untocuhed by dust, air or human hands. If she wasn’t here, she had to be in the games room.

She had eaten breakfast right? She could not have abadoned their food because he left. He paused. She hadn’t taken her drugs all day. He had locked them in his toilet cabinet. An old habit from when Muyi underwent theraphy. He gave himself a mental slap and quickened his steps to the games room.

It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness of the room. The curtains were still closed like they had been the previous night. HIs fingers danced across the wall beside his left as he searched for the switch. He found it and turned on the light. The first few seconds, he was blinded but his pupils constricted to focus on the object of his affection, squeezed into one of the sofa.

His heart dropped at the sight of her limbs squashed togther. Why didn’t she sleep in the bigger sofas? Why did she clutch a GSM in her hand? He closed the gap between them and held her face.

The memory of their almost kiss as clear as white clouds against blue skies. He remembered the softness of her lips against his cheeks. Why did they have to call at that moment? They always seemed to intrude on the important moments in his life. They must definitely find some joy in executing their plans at the wrongest moments.

“Olumide?”

Her croaky voice pulled him out of his reverire. He stared at her puffy eyes. How long had she been sheding tears?

His fingers slipped underneath her head to the sofa. It was dry. She must’ve had cried for a while. He swallowed as he stared at her hooded lids made darker by her tears. This was not what he had in mind when he brought her home.