Irritation - A Short Story by Abraham Atawodi

A pretty girl, a delayed driver, and a rebuffed compliment - just another day on the city streets captured by this short story. Writers, get your work featured on the ZODML blog and in our newsletter by sending a pitch to [email protected]. 
 
Rebecca especially did not like waiting. She had not waited a year at home before getting into university, like most of her classmates had been forced to, because even though they had passed the requisite exams, they did not know what buttons to push, or how. She had never waited her turn at the bank, not with her famous surname. She was used to getting things done her own way, in her own time. Particularly, she had never waited for a common driver in the blazing sun before, clad in a loose green t-shirt and tight-fitting blue jeans, with only an umbrella to shield her from the scorching madness of harmattan afternoons. So, it was with no small frown that she stood on the sidewalk, waiting for Chidozie, her father’s driver. He said he was close; she would soon see him. That was 20 minutes ago, when she called. She had suspected he was lying; he probably hadn’t left the house yet. Now, she was forced to wait.
She looked around and saw the two suspicious characters, dressed like they were from the 80s, nodding rhythmically to the loud music that boomed from their headsets as they stood dangerously close to the electric pole that looked like it would fall in a second. She saw the plump middle-aged woman with a red sash tied taut around her robust waist, towing her string of toddlers after her, all dressed in white, their feet bare. She even saw the dirty Hausa meat-sellers near the junction to her left, sharpening their tools as they glistened in the sun, slicing red meat so proficiently, conversing in a steady stream of Hausa punctuated with swear words and feeble attempts at English. It was all around her: the barely-clad children hawking pure water, kolanuts, and boiled groundnuts; the endless swarm of passers-by. She hissed dejectedly, as she thought of how she didn’t fit in with the plebs, people she had once said were still miserably scrambling for the crumbs of life. She hissed again, wiping the sweat off her brow. Where was this stupid driver? She would make him pay, she promised herself. As she stood there, simmering, she didn’t notice the yellow shirt until it stood right beside her. She turned sharply, immediately on her guard. “What’s up, pretty girl?” the yellow shirt, asked. Rebecca was certain he wasn’t speaking to her, not with that awful mouth odour. She turned around, her eyes darting about, hoping to see someone else, perhaps. There was nobody. It was obvious that the stranger had been speaking to her indeed. She turned back and faced him. “You said what?” she asked, more like a threat than a question. “What’s a beautiful princess like you doing in this hot sun?” he retorted. Rebecca looked at the limp cocoon in front of her, devoid of even a modicum of comeliness, and pitied herself. Look what that miserable driver had subjected her to! She sized the stranger up, letting her gaze linger on his shoes, so that he would know that she had seen they were a mismatched pair with worn out soles, before letting out a very long hiss, its sound almost like a moving train, or a teapot letting out steam. The yellow shirt only smiled, exposing very disorderly dentition, coloured by tobacco. “You are a beautiful girl. I like you. Let me treat you like the jewel that you are. You need tender, loving care,” he continued, gesticulating like a rapper for effect. Rebecca’s eyes remained glued to the road, frantically searching for the car, the Moses that would deliver her from impending destruction. She blocked the words of the crazy stranger out of her ears, though she couldn’t do anything about the fetid stench that emanated from the grave she was sure his mouth had become. While the determined stranger yet spoke, a black sedan, polished to a brilliant shine, sidled up to the duo on the sidewalk. As the stranger watched helplessly, Rebecca walked up to the car, opened the front door, and let herself in. The car immediately zoomed off, leaving a puff of exhaust fumes hanging in the air. The stranger coughed a while, and then trudged along, whistling a happy tune.