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TWO

The sound of the hard dried cereal hitting the bowl was noise to his under rested ears. He had pajama pants on a sweatshirt, through which he sweat through. He was having a hard time adjusting to the weather after a decade away. The sun was out as early as seven and even his father, earlier.

It was him and his mother, who was probably caking her face with as much makeup like she was making a grand entrance. Like she was the one back from Texas. Ola loved that about his mother.

The extra, in Nigerian mothers. And he expected that but what he did not expect was for her to come out in iro and buba. A lavishly tied lace with diamonds on them, and she flashed a smile. One that came under her gele. She was only perfect to a fault, she couldn't tie it to save her life.

But the confidence outmatched every flaw.

"What are you wearing?" Ola asked, dipping his cutlery back into his milky choco. "And where are you going?" He added and she just walked past, an ostentatious scent that followed her if that made any sense. One that proved the famous statement right.

That you didn't have to be rich, to dress rich.

"Most normal sons would compliment their mothers first" She said, with her thick yoruba accent. It only made me realize how much i missed her voice. Her plain voice, away from the calls.

Or voice recordings. Little things like these were the little luxuries Ola missed. "Are you calling me an abnormal son, Mary?" He called her and she walked closer to him. She had this habit of ruffling his hair which she did again. She exhaled this time.

"Ah, i've missed you, Olamide" She whispered as she looked into his hazel eyes. And she backed away, like they hadn't a moment of connection just there. "Now, eat like a human and go get dressed"

"Time is of the essence" She quoted, and he hummed a famous song in his head as he poured his water into his cereal like a psychopath. "I already have the whole day planned" She looked to her nails with a sly smile as she adjusted her head tie.

Plan.

Mary was a woman with a plan. She was the one, the kind that had a plan to her back up plan. I mean, she had woken up five am that morning to prepare the lunch Akin would take the work.

And also, for Olamide and herself.

She detested junkfood, and hated how highly he'd speak of McDonald's or burger king when he was back in Texas. Places like that here were shoprite, and Dominos. Coldstone, all of which surrounded them. But she'd die before she had a slice of pizza.

And that went for Ola. So it was dodo and beans for lunch then, he would come to accept. Then he'd treasure the bowl of cereal in his front. I did say, he hated alot of things, add a plate of stewed beans.

Five hours had passed since she was awake and yet, she couldn't tell if the day went by fast or slowly. She just waited on the long couch, listening to AIT's ten o'clock news and then Ola climbed down.

She sighed one of relief as she unreluctantly turned off the tv and grabbed her purse. She set sight to the door and then to her son. He was dressed in oversized clothes, an irony for the weather and a blatant insult to the scorching son.

He had a necklace that hung by his side and chains that adored his hands. Rings, and as much she felt it was too much, she admired them. Her son had changed. But the thing about Nigerian mothers, they only admired from a distance.

And Ola didn't tell her she looked exquisite in that attire, she wasn't about to do the same over a meagre grudge. "Don't you think the accessories are too much?" He huffed, turning his face away.

He trailed behind her, rolling his eyes back. As he cuffed off his sleeves, and the edge of his combat trousers. He sighed, already tired and sleep deprived as beads of sweat clouded his head.

He had barely gone a distance before the sun caused him a headache. And they still had a distance to walk before they go to the busstop, closer to the bridge. And he began to regret at how a hoodie was such a bad idea. Where did he think he was?

Luckily, the traffic had died down. And the roads were free with most people going about their daily works of life. School, and work. Everything. Just a few that still hung around. There was a pungent smell of burning cigarette as they walked on, Mary cautiously guarding his purse.

"Walk ahead" She said to Ola who shook his head.

She walked swiftly in her glass slippers that you could hear the sound of her sole hit the ground. The smell of cigarette had been replaced by that of sewage from the gutter beneath them.

"We have clothes your size, young man" A hand groped Ola's and he flinched, turning to who sold clothes by the edge of the road. "What?" He asked, scrunching his nose at that stench.

"Hoodies like this o—" The man, was pleased at a reply before Mary interrupted. "Don't engage them." She pulled his hoodie and he softly pushed her away. "Where do you think you are" She raised her voice. "Don't pull me like that" Ola replied.

He walked ahead of her, failing to realize when she'd stopped. He just heard her voice, from behind. "Yes, that's him" Came a light squeal.

She had stopped by a woman selling recharge cards, a woman seemingly her friend. "Olamide, come and say hi. She always asks about you" She yelled and he walked back to the yellow stands, with an umbrella that held a bold inscription— MTN.

"Don't you remember me?" She asked and he looked to his mother, unsure of what to say next. Of course he didn't. But what was he to say, no?

"I literally changed your diapers when you were a baby" Came the start of an embarrassing story and Ola tried to wrap his head around the fact that she thought he'd remember someone that changed his diapers. A time when his brain hadn't been formed yet.

"I knew you since you were a child. He's all grown up" She stood, holding unto her wrapper as she reached for his cheeks. He began to feel sort of overdressed. Everyone here was either simple or casual. Everything here was simple. He forced a smile, like there weren't a million thoughts racing through his head. And he felt his social battery slowly die down. He scoffed, uncomfortably as he walked forward. "I have to get him to his aunt too"

"She can't wait to see him" Mary queued her good bye as he locked eyes with the woman once again.

"Omo oyinbo" She teased with a grin. And his mum held his hands as they carried on. "She's so excited to see you. Wait till you get to Aunty" She said as they approached the busstop.

Just a bench with a blue shed, and a few people around it. There were bold pictures of the brt buses from afar and she hastened in her steps.

"But you have to be careful too. You don't want a lot of people touching you" She said, like he was a fan of it. "You don't know who's who around here"

"Some might get too excited and i don't want you taken from me just yet" She warned, somehow her smile vanishing from her face. "Mum" Ola called.

"You know what i mean. This is Nigeria" She said as they arrived in the nick of time. Just at the terminal where a bus parked along the roads. "Time is of the what?" She turned to him, queuing last.

They marched slowly in and it was obvious this was Mary's route every day. So much that she had timed exactly when the bus was to arrive.

They got in, and closed the door, being the last.

Ola hung by the window whilst Mary at the edge of the seat. His bones cackled as he met the comfort of a seat and a half functioning air conditioner. Things had changed around here.

Firstly, the massive bridge that had been constructed and the supermarkets. He realized he hadn't seen all of this on his way back yesterday.

Daylight, was a really a blessing.

"Look" Mary said as the bus begun to move. She pointed towards the road at what seemed to be a woman. "That's the mad man that trails the streets" She said like it was a sight to see.

"And there, there's the school you're going"

"I'll have you enrolled tomorrow" She diverted both their attentions. He remembered the building, along awori avenue. It was close but it had changed too. The color was duller, in a gloomy dark blue but the fence was highlighted by a brighter grey.

It was enormous, stretching through the whole street to the other side but it was private school. He cupped his chin, at the reality of things. And the whole lifestyle change was just kicking in.

And it was obvious his mother had noticed the change in his mood. "Ola, are you okay?" She finally asked. "I know it's a lot" She started, after his hesitation to reply. "But you have to get used to it. And i know you can. We've all made mistak—"

"Mum, don't" He pushed a lump down his throat, knowing where she headed and she paused. He faced outside of the window, to the messy roads from last night's rain and he paid attention to that.

To the smallest detail in the portholes. He loved to, especially when he felt his anxiety rising. He'd love to pay attention to the littlest things to calm him. It didn't matter whether they were artistic or poetic.

Or messy, given he loved to draw too. He scribbled, in his mind a drawing of a porthole that had just been slashed by tires.

He made a whole comic in his head based off the narrative of one girl that had been a tad bit close to the vehicle, she got her clothes stained. He chuckled, beneath his breath, paying all his attention to that. And his mother stared at her son.

She smiled, on seeing him smile. And that was pretty much how the day went by. Aunt Titi was so excited to see them that she'd treated them to more than a few bottles of pepsi and coca-cola.

Mary stuck to her malt. Titi was the closest to her, she stayed at Meiran, a ten minute bus away on the free day.

And it was pretty much only them agains the world.

That when Ola was seven and preparing to travel, she was the one that lent them a few thousands to secure a visa and a passport. And looking at Ola, she had pride in her eyes. Though disappointed that he couldn't finish his last year over there.

Evening had fallen, and Ola had eventually eaten the beans with garri and yet another bottle of pepsi. That was when it occurred to Mary to head back to the house, to prepare food for Akin who would be home anytime from an hour.

"Where's the rest room?" Ola asked as they both stood up. She chuckled softly. "Where you left it, Ola. Nothing's changed that much" She replied.

"His voice is alot deeper now" Hers died in a whisper as Ola clung behind the door. He could still very much hear their whispers.

"So what really happened in Texas?" She asked and Ola felt his eyes close, his heart falling by a second.

"Alot of things, Titi. Alot of things" Mary left alot of interpretation to her response, and it was obvious she meant it. She didn't want to reveal what had happened, not even to her closest sister.

Perhaps she was ashamed. Or just not ready to talk about it. "We just think it would be best if he just completes his secondary school here. And then we'd see how it goes" She continued.

"He's going back?" His aunt asked and then came a bit of hesitation. Hesitation that haunted him.

And then the words he dreaded. Words that hung so much in certainty rather than its seeming uncertainty. "I don't think so" She replied as a tear slipped down Ola's face.

His battery had completely died down for the day and all he wanted was just to retire to his bed. Or maybe just a call to William, his best friend in Tx.

But he had to get through this first. He opened the door and stepped out. They halted the conversation, as if not talking about anything.

"I didn't hear the toilet f—"

He stormed out of the room as they both looked to themselves in utter confusion. "I have to—"

"Yes, go" Titi escorted her to the door as they climbed down the stairs at the edge of the building.

"Olamide"

"Olamide. Come back here" She yelled.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked, her slippers doing the thing with the sounds again. And he halted, turning back to her with tears down his pale cheeks. "What is it, mum?" He yelled back.

"What am i doing here?"

Mary broke on seeing the tears from her son's eyes that she halted whatever she was about to yell at him for. And the voice fell in a whisper. "Ola"

"Is this the rest of my life?" He asked. "In this shitty place? Is this the rest of my life, where i stay where people want to so badly flee?"

"What are you saying? Nigeria's better now" Mary lied. And he scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh well"

"Ola. Look at me" She inched closer to him. "What did i say about getting used to it?" She asked, referring to the conversation in the bus. "You just have to because it's your father's wishes" She said.

"Now you can wallow in self loathe and pity and close your eyes to this new beginning. Close your eyes to a million other possibilities or you can just relax and take it a day at a time" She whispered.

She was learned, and her vocabulary spoke well of it. Perhaps, of only the few that was that at her age. But that was a story for another day. Now, she just wanted to hold her son's hands which she did.

And he heaved a deep breath.

"Wallow" He echoed, chuckling softly and she embraced him. "Shut up" She whispered. "I want to go home" He replied and she withdrew from him.

"One day at a time?" She asked. And he nodded.

"I want to hear it" She struck a finger in his face as she shook her head. He looked away, muttering—

"One day at a time" She smiled, looking back at Titi that watched from her balcony. "When we get to the bridge, we'll know how we'll cross it" She said.

"And we definitely will" She nodded.

"Let's go home"

The sun was already going down in its radiance, rather than being forced behind centered clouds like the previous night. Yet, they still had quite a distance to walk out of the estate. Ola pulled off his hoodie, leaving only a sleeveless top and a bare arm to the vicious mosquitoes that flew by this time.

"What are you doing?" Mary looked to his developing biceps as she rolled her eyes.

And then her eyes caught something. He wasn't wise enough. She might have been past fifty, but her eyes were sharper than his with her own glasses. It might have been from her he got his bad vision, but she was not ready for that conversation.

No one was.

"Is that—" She narrowed her eyes, as he took his feet. It was then, as he slipped his shirt back on, he realized he fucked up. His mother threatened a race as she picked up something from the side of the road. "Is that a tattoo, Olamide Bankole?" She yelled, her voice echoing throughout the streets.

"A tattoo?"

The ride was anything but silent. Unlike coming, they took a regular bus back. And while Mary was squeezed to the edge of the backseat, Ola hung by the open doors where the conductor stood.

They'd avoided each other with Mary planning to deal with this when his father arrived. I mean, how long did he think he was going to run?

"Ijaiye" The conductor yelled, as the bus came to an abrupt halt. The person at the front seat alighted, and another came in. Ola looked around him. He had not believed he'd spent a day here. It felt realer.

It felt real to him, now. And to answer his own question, this was his life now. He shared one look at his mother, before turning away.

Possibilities, she said. What were they?

As much as Ola drew, he also loved to write. So he had a way with words you could tell. Just like his mother. So what were these possibilities, he thought. It was nothing too hard. Quite simple.

It was this, sitting a bus. The night skies, the music the horning brought, did that make him a maniac now? The fact that he was driven by one. As sour as it sounds, the smell of the cigarette air was also one.

The streetlights, and skies. Have i mentioned the skies? The sun, and days like this when he spent with family. Possibilities that were good and bad.

And sour. He was willing to open his eyes to them now. He looked to the stars again, not knowing what tomorrow held. But in the unknown, was yet another possibility. In the not knowing.

But he was ready.

Today was fair, and tomorrow will be good. Or so he'd thought as he looked right out of his windows from his room. Of course he had gotten home.

And now, as a ritual, splatters of rain hit the glass, they had made it home just in time.

Including Akin, who was now seated in front of his long awaited eba and okra soup whist watching the eight o'clock news. Mary was probably uploading a few photos to her facebook now, not caring as usual how they looked on her Tecno phone. She was just excited, having spent the first day with her son.

"Possibilities, huh" He scoffed, falling into his bed with his phone next to him. He'd hoped for a text from William but got none. Not even from Obi or Sarah. Or half the friends he'd made in Houston.

It was then, after a while that he fell asleep waiting, that he woke up. He shot his eyes wide open, jolting from the bed. He'd heard screams coming from his windows and he ran to switch his lights off.

He slowly peeked from it, watching a figure run into a darkness as another fell to the ground. He heard murmurs with a man's voice. And then a groan. And then footsteps running away.

The headlights from the cars that drove past revealed someone lying on the ground, with blood shimmering an oil. And a gasp escaped his lips.

Was it a robbery?

He'd stepped back, unsure if anyone had seen him behind his curtains. And then he was grasped back to reality as he sped through those doors. What was he doing? And did he just witness a robbery?

Or was it worse. His fear, that it was worse.

He plunged his parent's door with terror in his eyes. And Akin was the one he'd first locked eyes with.

He said the single thing he heard from the slow groans. "Help" And there was a crack in his voice.

Possibilities, good or bad? Was this one of them?

And was he ready for what came next? Tears had dropped to his chin, like lemon juice as he quivered to the voice of his father. "What happened?"

That, that he couldn't tell. What he could however, was that it was bad. Whatever that had happened.

To be continued...

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