Running Away Solves Everything

Ekene

The day before yesterday, Enyinna actually voice-called me on Instagram.

“Congratulations man! You are the luckiest guy alive!” I didn’t know who it was and I asked, “Who is this please?” but he ignored.

“You chose something dangerous, right? That’s what we are gonna do.” He called me twenty minutes into my afternoon siesta, at the sweetest part, where my dream was about to kick off.

I yawn, “So what dangerous something are we… going be doing mmm?” I yawn again and I want to end the call so badly, I growl.

“It’s all gonna happen at Ocean View Hotels and we are going to cruise ehn... Simi, Paski and I have the entire scheme planned out.” I was not moved by all this gibberish talk, even though I’m sure he wanted me to be. “You gats to be here by six tomorrow evening and tell your mumsi something. Anything. A sleepover with the boys to celebrate the new month? My mumsi will call yours and say you’ll be here throughout the night sha having some post V.S. fun if you want. You’ve reached sixteen shey?”

“Yeah,” I replied him, and he talked along with me when I was saying, “July Sha.” So we didn’t hear ourselves.

“Mumsi’s boy,” he called me. “Oya, later. I have thirty other people to call. Bring money o!”

So, almost the entire set was coming to Ocean View Hotels. I bet it’s Rex's parents that must have sponsored this outing. Those guys defecate dollars and vomit Yen. Maybe, they do Cedis, but they definitely don’t do Naira.

I thought of different ways to tell this to my mum, but after hours of no rest, I finally found some words. If I was keeping track, I’d say, forty-three hours and seventeen minutes. I wouldn’t usually do this, but something compels me to. “Mummy, can I stay in Enyinna’s house for this night?”

“Gini ki cho ri mee?” She is in her room sorting some jotters, books, programs and papers, but she’s all ears.

When I answer, “Read,” she looks up at me, maybe looking for some credibility that I’m still her son.

She starts on a bad note, “If not that you’re so mischievous, why can’t you just go to Enyinna’s house anyhow you want? O wu nwannegi? Your cousin that his house is in the same estate with you. He's your brother.” Ending on a weird note. “I pray he really rubs off his reading character on you. See how this boy reads. As if both of you were not born in the same U.S. You even delayed our coming back with your…”

“Mummy, can I go?”

“Kwuo ya na Igbo.” I grumble at this but I timidly answer, “Mummy, ka m lawa?”

“O kwuru ya na Ibibio. Obughi Igbo,” she jokes that it was Ibibio I spoke not Igbo, and going back to what she’s doing. “Mmm go. O bughi gi kpatara ya. It’s my fault. Ugbua, o buru n'I gaa obodo maka olili Mummy, mmadu ga aju gi ihe di mfe, I ga-adikwa ka aboki. Hian! Chineke ekwekwala ihe ojo!”

I am out of her door before that sentence is completed, wishing I didn’t hear any of it, but then she calls me back. “Ohh! Mummy!” I complain, dragging my feet back to her. I can’t believe she says I would look like an aboki in the village, because I don’t know how to reply to simple things in Igbo.

With her right hand still sorting some papers, she drops them on the bed, then drags her right ear down. “Emekwala ihe I na-gaghi eme igwa m.” With this statement, I make up my mind not to. I won’t do anything I won’t be proud to tell Mummy.

Eating supper in the sitting room, like we usually do, no one would hear word. “Mummy, why does Ekene have to go? And you didn’t allow me to go to beach with my friends you won’t let me.”

I want to say, “shut up!” but Mum beats me to it and adds, “Ekene, o wu ebiri gi? Is he your mate?”

Emelie’s friend who came with him from school pinches him as he says this. “Mummy is protecting you. Children die in beaches.” Then he and his friend start whispering to each other. I don’t know what’s going on with Emelie lately. Puberty doesn’t strike till your like twelve years, so I don’t know why he has been feeling so wise lately. Everyone, apart from his friend has their cutlery in the air, as he ends, demonstrating, not by waving his hand in a snake-like manner, but by making the fingers of his left hand dance on the table, “As their bodies get swept away by the sea.” Mum, Ezinne and I use forks to eat and all our grains of Jollof Rice return to our plates. Emelie keeps eating and Ebuka claps with such joy, knocking his plate of his special dining table.

When dinner ends around seven, Enyinna calls and asks, “Where are you? The other guys are at Simi's already.” It’s going to be June 2nd tomorrow and that’s Simi’s birthday, so he’s our excuse. I still wonder, What dangerous thing are we going to do in Ocean View Hotel, but I don’t say. I want to back out, but it’s feeling like it’s already too late.