Saturday, March 16, 2013

Bring Back My Husband To Me By Bubblinna

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I wake slowly to the strains of ’Marry You’ by Bruno Mars set off by the alarm. As I search for the offending machine, a clear thought penetrates my sleep-fogged mind; Wedding! Just then my hand connects with the phone. I hit the stop button and break out in a wide grin.

Today is March 16th 2016 and it is my wedding day. I am going to be married to my sweetheart, Lionel. The thought of him makes me blush, ahh; the things we did in dreamland not so long ago. There is a throbbing at the apex of my thighs and I feel heat spread through me; this usually happens when I think of the things I want to do to and with him.

”Patience, girl. You’ll have him for the rest of your life to do with as you please starting tonight.” I tell myself. That is enough to reassure me.

Smiling, I lean over to turn on the bedside lamp at the far end of the bed and my hand touches a wet patch. Quickly, I turn on the light and a puzzled look steals across my face. There on the undisturbed part of the bed is a wet patch which looks as though one sat on it with wet shorts. I throw a glance at the door; the bolt is still drawn across. My hand goes to my butt which feels really dry.

”Come to think of it, this room is cold and the windows aren’t even open.”I mumble to myself as I pad across the room to check on the air-conditioner. It is switched off.
This isn’t the time or day to concern myself with demystifying ’lesser’ matters; I reason, picking my ringing phone off the bed. I look at the screen; disconnect the call, and move towards the door.

”Good morning Suze.” I say to her as I open it wide and move back to let her in. ‘She’ is Susan; my best friend and soon-to-be chief bridesmaid.

”Good morning dearie. How was your last night as Miss Deborah Evans?” she asks with a glint in her eyes as she goes to sit on the bed.

”Wait! Don’t sit there.” I blurt out.

”Why not?” Suze asks, going ahead to sit on the wet patch.

”It is wet…The side you are sitting on,” I tell her.

”Ooooh…why didn’t you tell me before?” she queries, her hand going immediately to her backside.
I look at the spot which she has just gotten up from, but to my astonishment there is nothing there. Suze is quite quick to point this out.

”Well, I mistakenly poured water on the bed and didn’t know it had dried off.”
The lie rolls easily off my tongue. It is a lie because I didn’t pour water and I know what I had felt and seen; but the dry bed is playing mind games with me.

”Are you cold?” I ask Suze, drawing my purple sleeping robe tightly over my body to ward off the chills, as goosebumps erupt on my forearms.

”No.” Suze says, giving me the once over.
”I know what is wrong with you Deb.” she continues as she goes to throw the curtains open, letting daylight filter into the room.

”What is wrong then?” I ask as I sit back on the bed. She comes to stand in front of me, arms akimbo.

”Pre-wedding jitters.” she says, nodding her head like a Chinese sage before dragging me off the bed and pulling me towards the door.

”It’s your wedding day. No dulling.” she says, going out into the corridor. Just as I am about to step out of the room, I feel some drops of water on my face and I wipe them off.

”It’s your wedding, you should hurry up. It’s crazy out there and the beauticians are coming in real soon.” Suze says, as she turns to look at me.

”I know joor.” I tell her, playfully smacking the side of her head.
My phone rings and I dive on the bed to get it; it’s Lionel, my sweetheart.

”Hey baby.” I say into the phone. Suze throws me a look of mock horror before closing the door behind her.

”We are not supposed to make contact before the wedding, doesn’t it include ‘auditory contact’?”

”I would have no idea, it’s you females that create these crazy rules. You know we men can’t be bothered.”

”Tscheew!” I hiss into the phone and lie back on the bed, fiddling with the tassels on my nightgown.

”Hey Love. I called because I had this weird dream, but for the life of me I can’t remember it now that I have heard your voice.” Lionel says.

“That’s too bad. Well…I had a dream and I recall vividly what we did. It had lots of ’spooning and forking’ and now I fear the thought of it is bad for my panties.” I say, ending in a stage whisper while holding back the laughter.

Lionel lets out a whoop of joy; ”I am getting married to this kwazie ass woman in some hours and I am going to give her…” He starts belting out lyrics of the chorus to Marvin Gaye’s ’Sexual healing’.

"I love you Nel, but I need to get into the bathroom now or forever stay in bed.” I tell him smiling at my corruption of the words that would soon be repeated on our behalf.

”No way miss; get your cute self into the bathroom now!”
I end the call with a smile on my face.

”Oh boy! Did this room get colder or what?” I wonder aloud as I rub my arms vigorously to dispel the cold and swing my feet off the bed; to the ground, slipping off my robe and nightgown.

”Today is your special day Deb, better get your ass moving.” I mumble to myself as I step into the bathroom.

* * * * *

4 hours later…
The church is packed with friends, relatives and well-wishers of ours. Sitting next to me is my beau, looking more handsome than ever. His dark skin just seems to glow brightly today, and as he smiles and winks at me, I almost forget that we are in church as ’unholy’ thoughts creep into my mind. I wink back at him and turn to face the pastor reverently, urging him wordlessly to finish the boring sermon, and hurry to the exchange of vows. It works; my chakra, I mean because the pastor wraps up the sermon and beckons on us to come forward.

As I get up, I feel this inexplicable sense of dread, and it is accompanied by a draft of cold air that seems to penetrate the layers of lace, organza and tulle on my body which causes me to shiver convulsively. I make it to the pulpit without betraying any sign of unease.
Suddenly I hear a patter of feet echoing in the quiet of the church. It is from a little girl who runs up the aisle, hot on her young heels is a woman that I think is her mother. To my surprise, the little girl runs up to me and hugs my leg.

”Aunty don’t marry this man, the other man is crying too much,” she whispers pointing at a space beside me. I look but do not see anyone, I am confused. The church is quiet now.

”What in hell’s bells is this girl saying?” I ask myself as I try to pry my dress from her clenched fist, her hand is very cold. Whispers float about now. A commotion breaks out as the mother gets to the pulpit, an embarrassing tinge staining her face as she apologizes profusely for her daughter, whom she says is receiving treatment for acute malaria. I nod and tell her that no offence was taken, as we wait for the din to quiet down. The girl’s whispered words haunt me. I don’t know of any man that would cry over me. Lionel is my first and only love. I had a boyfriend 3 years ago when I was in my 2nd year, but after a weekend spent in his lodge, he started avoiding me and when I broke it off with him, I felt his relief. He definitely wasn’t crying over me now.

”Are you okay Darling?” Lionel asks me quietly and I nod in affirmation. I turn just in time to see mother and daughter leave through the church doors, and just before the doors close behind them, the girl turns back and throws me an anxious look mouthing the word ”Please.”

As the doors clang shut, I feel the hairs on the nape of my neck rise, goosebumps on my forearms and I get this weird feeling that I am being watched; the latter filling me with fear. I shrug the feeling off and fix a smile on my face to repeat the words that tie me forever to my love.

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This was published as "Wedding Crash" on Naijastories by Bubblinna. You can check out the other work on her portfolio here.

1 comment:

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