Are you coming to the tree?

Chapter 8

Their parents work honest jobs and try their hardest to keep them all afloat but for people of colour living in those times the prejudice that flooded the system found a way to keep them drowning. Chizo and Ezinwa never thought of it as an honour to provide for their families, it was more of a duty – their duty. Ever since they were 15 and 9 months they would get a job, preferably at the same place to rid them of the inevitable boredom that always seems to sneak through the cracks of enjoyment.

This year: Coffee shop.

Though you audience may think it must've been fun and exciting. But no. You have no idea the perils they go through just to fulfil their family duties.

"Hi what can I get for you today?" Ezinwa cheerily asked the customer that just ambled in from the hiemal outside weather. The customers faced morphed from shocked to disgust in record timing, yes – she was counting in her head. "How about a new staff member?" the customer spat back with contempt. 1.23 seconds; that's how long it took to be scorned by a stranger. It usually takes longer but I guess they're improving or adapting. Ezinwa nodded her head politely at the impertinent customer and Chizo moved into her previous position whilst she resumed his role of making the coffees for the 2 customers he had just served. The lady shrieked in surprise as she saw Chizo. 6 feet, dark aura, scary energy leaking out of him ceaselessly, most wouldn't blame her. She shook in her boots, trembling like an earthquake was taking place beneath her feet, and her feet only. "p-ple-as-e-e c-can i-I b-be served by a-another m-memb-ber of staff?" she asked, though clearly wetting herself in his presence. He rolled his eyes and shook his head no.

This was their usual arrangement. Good cop, bad cop. On rare occasions they would only use the good cop – Ezinwa. But more often than not Chizo would have to step in a scare the customers into submission. They were let go from a lot of jobs this way, reduce in customer and funds for the shop, so they were sent elsewhere. Such a shame, a real shame.

How many jobs does it take for one to finally give up and call it quits? 1? 2? 10 apparently. By the end of summer Ezinwa and Chizo had somehow totalled up to 10 jobs and number 11 was not happening anytime soon. It gets tiring keeping up with the toxic relationship with society. I guess it was time for them to break up.

I don't know if you have ever been in a break up, a toxic one to be specific. Me, personally, have never been in one. I can't imagine the thoughts that ran through their heads nor can I imagine the feeling that must've enveloped them when they decided to run away together.

But this isn't Vegas.

This isn't a story with a happy ending. Happy endings are like newspapers: black, white, and bias – no matter how hard they try not to be. It would be hard to say anything or anyone had a happy ending because that's just not how life worked. When a chapter of your life closes another one usually opens, it would be impossible to have a happy ending or an ending at all without death (but that's a different topic entirely).

"Chizo, I'm so sick of this". He nodded in understanding, not a lot of words needed to be spoken for the message and meaning to be conveyed. That was his favourite part of their relationship. The silence spoke volumes and shared secrets they wouldn't say aloud.

"I'll miss this tree" he replied in resignation, already knowing what they are going to do. There was no need to overthink or underthink. The solution was clear as day on a silver platter. They had to go. "Me too. But one day I'll come back" Ezinwa voiced, optimistically, "if they haven't cut it down like every good thing they can get their hands on" Chizo commented.

Pessimists and optimists are a good pair. Balancing each other out like a scale. But they also feed to each-others fire and flames. They can burn down together if they aren't careful.