Dawn by Bridget Ratidzo - HTML preview

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Chapter Three

The woman has a talent. My imaginary sweet fix delight is right here staring at me and I have a large spoon in my hand as my tongue licks my bottom lip. I sink my spoon into the soft yummy delight, pushing the spoon down the one and a half liter desert glass I can’t help but pick a chocolate chip and pop it into my mouth.

Hmmn. I love stress food. Since when did I start having stress food? Since I started living a soap opera. Wild mind answers. Why do they have large dessert cups? Logic wonders. Mad house, my sense sings. I am so mad I don’t know what to do with myself—that’s emotion and heart.

I moan as the chocolate delight slide down my throat, its sweetness lingering for a moment and I decide that it’s time to attack the sweet fix fountain. I pull the spoon out from the gooey delight and lift it ready to lick the living day lights out of it—and Judith walks in—no dancing into the kitchen like she is one of those Disney maidens who have a song in every scene and a charming prince at the end of the movie.

She halts when she sees me and her eyes go starry when she sees my sweet fix, it only lasts a moment before she looks at me with concern.

‘That’s a lot of sugar to take before dinner.’

I give her a dirty look, ‘mind your own business.’

She raises an eyebrow and walks to the kitchen unit. Moments later she return with a spoon in her hand.

‘What are you doing?’

She sits opposite me and shovels her spoon into my giant sundae before shoving the spoon into her mouth. She groans loudly I absently hoped no one heard and got the wrong impression. It all happens so fast I only have time to gape and then glare at her before she swallows the whole thing and her face breaks into a –er—crazed expression?

‘Wow I think I had a trance.’ She marvels, ‘Gertrude has outdone herself.’

I can help but smile. But I can’t let her enjoy the delight I had to bully Gertrude into making. I swat her hand way when she is reaching for another shovel.

‘You can’t eat all that? Are you trying to kill yourself?’

‘It’s Christmas Eve—mercy abounds during this time.’ I finally lick my spoon—holy crow, if I ever escape this house I am kidnapping Gertrude.

Judith’s face becomes sober, ‘it does.’

I scowl, ‘what’s with that look?’

Judith sighs, ‘today is the eve party and dramas at church.’

Oh I get it, ‘who must have taken over the plays this year?’

Judith shrugs, ‘the group is pretty much proactive and adaptive to changes—I just can’t get over what pastor Luke must be thinking of me.’

I snort, ‘that man never thinks anything about anyone—and if there is any person who has a terrible reputation is an on and off church goer like me.’

Judith shakes her head, ‘Malcom has no right to judge you like that,’

I really don’t want to think about this, ‘he was just hurt Judith, the man is mad about you.’

‘Was.’ Judith rolls her eyes, ‘I don’t think he’d ever want to see me again.’

I give her a rueful smile, it is apparent that she cares about him a lot—he is her friend after all. If only she hadn’t winded up in the arms of that caveman Lawyer. Love is a blind bat soaring towards an inevitable death.

I dig my spoon into my gooey delight and shove an impossibly large amount into my mouth. Yes, so kidnapping Gertrude.

‘Try him.’ I say as soon as I swallow and still in the aftershocks of sweetness because I go on to say, ‘you may need to clear your feelings before tying yourself to caveman.’

Judith gives me a funny look, ‘I should be offended,’ she lets out a short laugh, ‘but are you okay?’

I raise my eyebrows at her, ‘I am enjoying a sundae that would send any five year old to an early grave—why would I not be alright.’

‘You just said.’

‘Do you like it here?’

Judith blinks, ‘no of course not—this is not my usual Christmas fest,’

‘There you have it,’ I say in a revelation-filled voice, ‘it’s stress food.’

Judith shakes her head and we start to attack the sugar gooey in silence.

Someone clears their throat. We both turn and sigh in relief when we see Hannah. I am the one doing something dangerous.

‘Can I talk to you Heather?’

I blink at her, ‘uhm sure.’ I get up and reach for my sundae, Judith slaps my hand away. I flash her a scowl before I follow Hannah out to her room. She shuts the door the moment I step inside. Something about all this reminds me of the days we were conspiring against this household and got caught within twenty-four hours. Yeah it’s not my destiny.

‘What’s up?’

Hannah hesitates, ‘look, this is none of my business and I may be out of line but I thought I should talk to you about what Alex said.’

I shake my head, ‘I don’t--.’

‘Just listen Heather—the decision is still yours. Thing is I have known about this for a while and Mr. Abiwu didn’t want you to learn about your brother’s work yet—I think Alex did you a favor but outing it and you can have more time to think about it.’ She sighs, ‘I just wanted to tell you that you are not obliged to stay if you don’t want to. Your brother has the power to finally grant you your freedom—they won’t hurt you.’

I stare at her as her words sink in, ‘why? Why are you trying to help me?’

‘Because you don’t deserve to be treated this way and be terrorized by them.’

I snort, ‘I am not being--.’

‘Heather, you think you are staying here for love? Has Taylor done anything to stop his father from mistreating you? Threatening your family and killing your father?’

‘Stop.’

‘Has he? His loyalty to his father always comes before anything else, before you—why would you stay here just to hold on to a person like that?’

I stare at her for a long moment before I start laughing.  Mr. Abiwu that clever bastard. He made me sign that stupid pact so that I will never leave even if I had the way to. But why does he suddenly want to keep me here?

‘I got it Hannah, I will think about it.’

I don’t give her a chance to say another word before I walk out of the room.

***

And yes of course hours later after not able to face dinner I am bend over the toilet empting Gertrude’s poisonous delight. Maybe I should have listened earlier. This feeling sucks. I already had it for the first weeks of my pregnancy I was sure I promised myself to never subject myself to such a torture. Or to put it more clearly. No more babies.

‘That’s what they all say we are five in the family.’ Lawyer had mused then, finding my predicament rather funny. I had given him a glare and said, ‘should I be grateful that your parents brought five raging serial killers in the world?’ and the only thing he could say was, ‘Outch!’ and continued to rub my back.

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ Julian scowls down at me. I suppose he is not very informed about home remedies for vomiting nine months pregnant women. If he had just minded his own business when I had quietly excused myself from the table to throw up in peace without anyone knowing he wouldn’t have to go through this.

But no, the bastard was in the kitchen exchanging food bargains and blackmails with Gertrude he saw me rushing down the hall to the downstairs bathroom and now I couldn’t face my consequences in peace.

‘Nothing—I smelled something I don’t like.’ I let him help me to my feet and walk to the sink to splash water on my face. I don’t feel better but I am hoping against hope that the worst is over.

‘Oh—do you need to lie down?’

Phew he is buying into my story. If anyone finds out that I deliberately ate to get sick I am so screwed. Not that I wanted to get sick—no, I just wanted some sugar… but no one would understand that.

Julian has his arm around my shoulders as we exit the bathroom and we run into a traumatized Gertrude by the doorway. Crap.

‘Oh this is all my fault.’ She breathes, ‘I should have known better than to listen to you.’

What the hell?

‘Hey!’ I say the same time Julian asks

‘What do you mean?’

‘She ate gallons of sugar before dinner—I think she may need a checkup.’

‘What? Are you insane?’ I try to deny it but the thin line on Julian’s lips is discouraging, ‘I am not five.’

‘I thought so too.’ Julian says.

I whip my face between the two of them, ‘look I had a stressed out moment—okay—can’t we just let it pass and I promise never to do it again?’ thank god none of them know I had diarrhea before attempting to eat dinner.

‘I know you got stressed out—but when you start taking it out on hurting yourself we won’t have it.’

Oh geez I’m flattered, somebody cares about my existence.

‘That’s not it… you don’t even know what happened.’ I argue. I should have settled for a tantrum instead of stress sugar intake. Besides I only ate it this once—why should I get violently sick—oh this cruel world.

‘What happened?’ Taylor’s voice make me snap my head up to look at him as he strides towards us and pushes Julian’s hand away, replacing it with his.  ‘Are you okay.’

‘I am fine.’ I try to stare the two traitors to shut up.

‘She is not fine.’ Gertrude stresses, ‘she’s been sick, you need to get the doctor.’

I groan and sag against Taylor’s strong body.

‘Of course.’ Taylor replies immediately and did I mention that I feel like fifty pound of concrete stone? Sugar is supposed to give energy not drain the little that I had left. Is anything trustworthy out there anymore?

***

I don’t know why Julian and Gertrude never mentioned the sugar incident—not that I should be grateful. But seeing doctor Focus saunter in here like he is on duty or something (which he is) makes me only picture his lovely injection he was stroking like a secret lover the last I saw him.

Thanks heavens, Julian or Gertrude do not come in the room as Focus does his diagnosis but so help me god Mr. Abiwu is there and Celine as the good old doctor—ironically—is asking me how I am feeling and exactly what happened. I recount he effects not the cause.

‘its pretty normal to have nausea even weeks before labor,’ the good old doctor explains to the two alike men who are nodding attentively like two clueless braggadocios receiving lecture from a noble well learned nerd. ‘Many women experience gastrointestinal upset late in the third trimester, the baby is growing making the uterus to crowd in the space of the GI tract.’

I growl, ‘English please Dr Care bear.’

He settles his eyes on me, ‘the baby is sitting on your intestines.’ He says as if he is talking to a five year old. I purse my lips in annoyance while Celine finds it so funny she guffaws. I give her a dirty look and Taylor rubs my back in relief I think.

He goes on to rumble other medical nonsense and I am too sagged with relief that my little sweet fix isn’t the cause after all before he makes his leave.

So at the end of the day I am absolutely cross with every breathing human in this house. I decide, that is the following day and its Christmas to put all the worries of this world aside and enjoy the day. I mean Mr. Abiwu did lay out presents and all down the Christmas tree that he hated in the first place. Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle. Besides I need to save up energy for the party later tonight.

While everyone is busy preparing for the party I am delighting myself in Mr. Abiwu’s gardens. The man has great eyes for gardens I will give him that. The smart shrubs and smell of flowers are soothing and just beautiful. There are paved paths along waist long hedges in a puzzle like manner. The pavements lead to a green area with neat short grass and a large tree with a shade worth of a Disney picture. There is a wooden bench under it and I just want to sit there and bask in the peaceful moment.

I stretch my legs in front of me as I bask in the cool peaceful area. Evil people’s properties shouldn’t have any location of peace. Or maybe for the sake of other people who do not cultivate evil for a living, there just have to be a little piece of heaven here. I close my eyes and tilt my head back against the wooden bench

I suddenly have the feeling of eyes on me. I slowly sit up straight and open my eyes. Taking a second to admire the natural beauty around me, I then turn my head towards the place I feel eyes coming from. My eyes land on Mr. Abiwu’s large house, straight to the balcony where my starrer is. His arms are folded on the railings, body leaning forward, dark eyes glued on me.

Why is he giving me that thoughtful look? Most times I don’t know what is happening in Taylor’s head—okay every time… but that look is just dangerous for my existence. It makes him look so much like his father. As if he doesn’t already.  I sometimes have sleepless nights thinking about what I would do if my baby resembled the two men… okay none of that right now.

Do I wave? We are way past the waving stage. Waving is for when you are glad to see someone and you have all these good springy feelings when your eyes meet. (I do have springy feelings right now but that’s beside the point.)—do I stare back? Staring back is declaring a challenge and I am soooo done fighting and gravelling with these people. Yes Taylor is now ‘these people’ welcome to the party.

Things are no longer the same as when we first met. Not all love scenarios are strong bonds that keep people glued together through storms and hurricanes. Because hurricanes are what we have been swimming since—well since I got crazed by those dark eyes. The same eyes that are glued on me from a distance and making me feel like I am out of breath.

Maybe it’s his looks. Wasn’t that the other thing that had the man’s existence plastered on my incurable romantic self? It makes no sense to say that this could work anymore. I don’t trust him and I soooo want out of here I so don’t care if I never have to see him again. I have already done it before and it’s a much better feeling than living in fear of him leaving again.

So no waving, no staring back—I stand up with as much speed as my whale sized body allows me and decide to just leave the place. Angry now, because that’s what I feel whenever I think about our messed up relationship. Anger.

So without so much as a blink I turn to walk and guess who I almost collide nose to nose with?

‘Can’t I just not see you at all?’ I glare at Alex as he looks down at me with the same expression on his face as mine. Did I mention that I have become shorter as the baby is growing?

‘I could say the same thing.’ He says in a bored tired tone, ‘what the hell are you doing at this side of the house?’

I gape at him, ‘what are you doing outside the house?’ I scoff, ‘I didn’t know psycho killers also needed moments of peace—is there any space for the word peace in your head?’

Alex tilts his head to the side regarding me for a second before his mouth curls to an amused smile, ‘I am beginning to learn that there is.’ He says feigning thoughtfulness, ‘seeing that the more I see of you the less I want to kill you.’

This sick bastard!

‘Certain people should just vanish on Christmas day.’ I mutter as I begin to walk around him and the man steps in front of me, blocking my way.

‘Have you considered my offer to ditch the party?’

I look at him as if he is gone nuts, ‘I hate my life right now but I don’t have a death wish.’

‘Me neither.’ He raises his hands and I didn’t even threaten him, ‘I won’t lay a finger on you—when are you going to learn that as long as Taylor claims you none of us will dare harm you?’

Oh right I forgot that Taylor is staring at this exchange from the balcony.

‘When the cow finally jumps over the moon.’ I answer Alex, ‘now move over and stay a mile away from me.’

‘Heather.’

I freeze in my steps to rush from him. Not that he just grabbed my arm and made me stay in one place. No. but because—geez since when did Alex start calling me so lovingly by name?

‘Don’t you want to know what happened to your friends back in college?’

What?

‘What is wrong with you? That was two years ago, can’t I just move on? You already are evil—you don’t need to practice cruelty.’

The goof actually rolls his eyes, ‘whatever—look I don’t have much time alright? But like I said before, I just want to tell you this.’ He sighs, ‘what I told you in that cell that day was all true—Stephan worked for Mr. Abiwu under me. The little rat ran off and got me into trouble with the clan, they hate lose ends—anyway, he had to be taken care of and so I did and saved my head only to meet you.’

I gape at him again, ‘are you insane? Is this a sob story or what? Do you need someone to talk to?’

‘I just hate uninformed victims—you are the most uninformed I have met in all my years.’

I curl my free hand into a fist, ‘fine? What exactly do you want Alex? You have been yapping nonsense all Christmas trying to put a damper on my mood—so out with it.’

‘I don’t want these families to come together… you are the only one in the position to stop this union.’

‘What?’

‘You Heather.’ He exasperates, ‘can walk away from this family and end this—your brother is powerful now—Mr. Abiwu or Taylor won’t be stupid to test him—this time you can leave and put an end to all this.’

What the hell?

I start to pull my hand from his grip as my mind is beginning to want to process his words and I won’t let it. But the bastard tightens his hold on my hand and goes on to say the only thing that can get through to me.

‘If you return to your family, your baby will have a normal life—if she is born here--.’ He scoffs, ‘I don’t need to paint a picture of what she will become.’

‘What’s in it for you?’

He pauses, not to think—not that he thinks at all. At least I suspect he doesn’t. I suspect he has no idea what a brain to mouth filter is, ‘I don’t want the union—the Abiwu clan couldn’t have joined itself to a more miserable family in its entire existence.’

Wow—from insult to insult- this man doesn’t have any breaks at all.

‘And what’s so great about your family that it has the likes of you? Are you going to carry the greatness to the grave?’

He narrows his eyes at me, ‘is that a threat?’

‘Don’t tempt me.’ I grit at him. And the man actually yanks at my hand and hurls me on him. A gasp escapes my mouth as he leans down such that his breath is flushing on my face as he says;

‘Don’t flaunt your power onto me Heather—I have no problem being done with you to solve my little problem.’

The crazy man is muttering death threats at me and the only thing I can think about is that he said problem twice in one sentence. It’s not normal.

And then his tight grip on my hand loosens the same moment he steps away from me his face expressionless. And that’s when the feeling hits me. This man is not stable. None of them are- but this one is a notch higher than the normal equilibrium in the family.

I touch where his hand was griping my arm tightly—whoa, since when did I start swelling from tight grips? I’ve been staying indoors for too long.

I lift my eyes to meet the unstable man’s as he says, ‘think about it Heather—but I am not giving you any choice here.’

I only feel a cool breeze of someone passing by before I see Alex falling on the ground on his back. His hand immediately comes to clutch at his face and that’s when I notice Julian standing above him taking heaves of deep breaths.

‘I’ve been dying to do that all holiday.’ Julian growls down at him.

‘I should kill you right now.’ Taylor suddenly growls beside me, making me flinch. I didn’t even notice that he is there and he is holding my arm, examining it closely.

I think I am in shock.

Alex chuckles as he begins to get on his feet, using his hands to lift his weight. Blood is coming down from his nose and filling in his gums and teeth as he laughs looking at Julian who is getting another fists ready.

‘Julian little Julian?’ he taunts as he stands on his feet, ‘what are you doing?’

‘Giving you the strike Taylor wants to give you but can’t because you are the great uncle.’ Julian answers.

Alex clucks his tongue, ‘the little bastard’s death threats are getting old—why don’t you be a man Taylor and risk it.’

‘Some of us like using our minds.’ Taylor says, ‘they will come a time I will be able to get my hands on you and you better not be anywhere near me then.’

Alex smirks, ‘I don’t think there is a chance to settle grudges in hell—because the only time you will ever be able to touch me is when we are dead got it.’

And with that, the fist fight started.