From the Binder – Tahj & Laide (1)

Posted on 09/01/2013

dueling

“If you change your mind about staying for the evening service,” Laide’s mother said gently, glancing over at the girl beside her. “After your meeting, just call me… Okay?”

The girl nodded with a smile before turning to open the car door. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” As she moved her right leg, Laide hid a wince but squeezed her eyes shut as a sharp pain ricocheted up her leg.

“Are you sure?” her mother asked cautiously, watching her daughter pause.

Laide nodded. “Yup, I’ll call you later if the pain gets too much for me.” She slowly eased herself out of the car and balanced on her good leg. “Stop worrying,” she insisted as she pulled out her crutches.

Once she’d successfully made her way to the sidewalk, Laide paused to watch her mother drive off. Then with a sigh, she turned to face the ominous flight of stairs to the main door of the church building.

Making her way into the church building proved more complicated that she’d anticipated. Balancing her slingback purse while steadying her crutches, Laide gritted her teeth as she fought against the heavy door. Once the door gave way, Laide shuffled into the building and with a silent joy, she took the elevator to the second floor of the youth building.

As the door dinged loudly before sliding to open, Laide rested her armpits against the cushioned crutches and swung her legs out of the elevator.

“Is that Laide?” a male voice hollered from around the corner as Laide approached the chapel room. A young man’s beaming face peered from behind the wall and grinned all the wider at the sight of Laide swinging her legs toward the room. “Come on in!”

Two hours later and Laide was sure she couldn’t stay for the evening service, as the pain intensified on her bad ankle. Listening for the gentle hum of the elevator, she tapped her long fingers against the metal rods of her crutches.

—-

Fatigue was an understatement for how he was feeling right now. His numb fingers rested on the lapel of his army jacket, his mouth tingling from blowing on his saxophone for more than three hours straight. His head pounded from the incessant ringing of the song being played over and over. He couldn’t wait for the concert next week so that he would never hear that song again.

“You going to the service tonight?” one of the praise team singers asked, batting her eyes up at him.

“Nah…” Tahj muttered, locking the saxophone case. “I think I’m gonna head back. Reports to write for class tomorrow.”

“Aww,” she said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout. “Well I guess we’ll see you on Wednesday then?”

“Yup,” he replied, strolling out of the main sanctuary, the girl’s farewell bouncing off the walls and against his throbbing ears. He eyed the youth building across the stone path and sighed. One quick trip to check if the doors were locked, as he was the resident custodian while his brother was away on business. Reaching inside his pocket for the ring of keys, Tahj crossed the stone path to the building.

To check all the doors in the building, he’d have to climb the flight of stairs to the second floor. Tahj warily eyed the stairs and shook his head, walking to stand in front of the elevator door instead.

The engine of the elevator sounded in the silence of the lobby and the door slowly opened to reveal a young woman with her head bent. When the ring of the elevator rang, she lifted her head, and Tahj immediately stiffened at the sight of the girl he’d antagonized for a quite some time. She always seemed to spark a fight with him yet at the same time made his heart skip fast as her dark eyes collided with his.

Even now, he struggled to keep his heart in check when her eyes warily skimmed his.

In response to seeing him, Laide gripped her crutches and clenched that slender jaw of hers when she noticed the narrowed glare of her antagonist, Tahj Karim.

He could tell she was not pleased to see him, well neither was he. After such a long, grueling Sunday, he didn’t have time to spend another moment dueling with her, especially not when his head was pounding incessantly.

Laide hitched up her chin and turned her eyes from his angular yet chiseled features, annoyed that she’d noticed his light brown eyes and that stubborn, curly black hair that framed his face. She hated the fact that she was a little more vulnerable than usual because of his broad shoulders and long legs that could take up space in the elevator than she’d have liked. Feeling his eyes openly search her face, Laide clenched her jaw and she forced herself to look back at him, challenging him to keep staring.

As arrogant as he was, a slow smile spread across his firm lips. “Hello Addy,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Fancy meeting you here…” She could feel his gaze travel from the top of her head to her toes.

“Back at you…” she forced out in a cold tone, shifting her weight. “Excuse me,” Laide muttered, swinging her legs forward to exit the elevator.

His smile froze, noticing the white cast on her right leg, still making no move to step out of her path. “What happened to you?”

Laide raised a skeptical brow at the concern coating his voice, then thinking back to how she’d gotten herself into this mess, she whipped her head up at him and glared hard. He happened to her. Three days ago, in fact. Playing soccer with her friends in the park and was on her way to scoring yet another goal when she spotted him running with his friends… bare-chested! Without slowing her run, she openly ogled his lanky physique and promptly ended up stumbling over an elevated bump in the middle of the street. Two hours later, she was sitting in the clinic sporting a twisted ankle and her sore pride.

Stopping at his now covered torso, Laide gritted her teeth and lifted her eyes back to his concerned gaze. “Nothing!” she spat impatiently, nudging past him with her left crutch. As she swung her legs to the exit door, she prayed that he wouldn’t follow her and just save her the embarrassment she held within.

“Hey wait a minute! Addy!” he called after her and she could hear his sneakered feet slapping against the concrete as she picked up speed to escape from him. “I need to talk with you!”

“Save it for another day!” she threw behind her, gripping the handles of her crutches, praying she wouldn’t fall. “I don’t have time!”

Tahj frowned as he slowed to a stop right in front of the steps to the main building. He watched as Laide jerkily climbed the steps, balancing herself on one good leg and shaky crutches. Shaking his head, he waited until she’d reached the top step before he turned toward the youth building once more. It was no use talking to her now, especially while she nursed the biggest grudge on him.

No answer. Laide swallowed a groan and slammed the phone back on its receiver.

At the resounding clap of the phone hitting the table, the church receptionist, a middle-aged Korean lady named Mrs. Hee-Jae Han, lifted her head and frowned up at Laide. “You alright, dear?”

Laide’s face burned in embarrassment as she nodded. Not really, considering this was the third call she’d made and still no progress. Glancing up at the clock above the woman’s head, Laide bit back a groan. It was almost eight and still no way to get home. The pain in her ankle reminded her it was time to leave. “I’m okay…” she said politely, glancing over at the front of the office and swallowed a gasp at the sight of Tahj Karim standing on the other side of the glass door, waving at her furiously.

Rolling her eyes, she swiftly turned away toward the telephone and picked it up to dial her mother’s number yet again. “Come on, Ma…” she muttered softly, glaring down at the phone. “Pick up.”

“Hi. You’ve reached the voicemail of 281…” the automated voice of her mother’s inbox system sounded but Laide quickly disconnected the phone. Lowering her face to her palms, she blinked against the frustrated tears.

“I’ll drop you at home, if you want,” said the deep voice of Tahj above her head, causing her to stiffen defensively.

Part 2 >>

Categories: From The Binder

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Answer Your Father’s Name

Posted on 09/01/2013


tree

Penned by my father (via Donkey Chronicles)

What does this statement mean? What is the origin of this statement? What are the likely applications and the inferences or innuendos?

Every human being (except Adam and Eve) has a biological father and mother. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond the control of the individual some parents decide to abandon their children some even before they set eyes on them. In the latter instance, clearly it is not due to dislike of the individual but the fear and discomfort of responsibility of an unscheduled dependant who came with the natural invitation of at least one of the biological parents (the initiator). Nature is very clever; had sex not been a pleasant experience, most would never have had children because of the fear of taking responsibility. So like a net, the selfish continue to get caught in spite of the clever devices employed to hit and run, leaving the fish and the boom hoping that their escapades would die a natural death.

Whether the conjugation was solicited or negotiated, the one who ends up holding the smoldering end of the stick is the woman. Mother Nature decides that the woman carries the product of the rendezvous for nine months in her womb with the tell tale of their activity whether consensus or not, to be either derided or celebrated by a world of experts; after all, we all are sexual beings so we know what we are capable of. In a free, everything goes society where there are no social or communal laws or mores ; everything goes . Whether the appropriateness of the pregnancy is up for debate or it is cause for celebration depends on the existence or nonexistence and adherent to what is acceptable. If the child is not welcome by both of the parents and the mother is kind enough for the child to live, the parting of ways (of mother and child) can only happen after the child is born. However, if the rejection is from the father and depending on the degree of callousness, and in extreme cases, the very day the woman says, I am pregnant is the last time she or the child hears from him. There goes a runaway father.

One of us mentioned the preponderance of unwed mothers in our land. I would dare say, some people have been making them pregnant; bluntly put they are getting pregnant in conjunction with men. And where are the men that have been jointly creating this preponderance? When the children are born and the fathers do not act responsible, they have nowhere to go but stay where the mothers are, with the attendant legacy but happy not to be a “born throway” since at least one of the partners had (besides breast milk) the additional milk of human kindness and sense of responsibility. “Answer your father’s name” in the crudest and malicious form means, “go look for your father and bear his name”. In the Izon culture, the child bears the father’s name and this sentiment can be a desperate reaction of maternal relatives who are pushed to the wall by the individual.

The most popular and friendly interpretation of answer your father’s name is simply a way of saying one must take responsibility by owning up or standing alone without riding behind another’s wake or coverage. There we see the fear inspiring word called responsibility surfacing again. When men and women gamble with their natural potential advantages as trump cards, the losers are often determined by Mother Nature not by their perceived upper hands. A married man with many children who has trouble feeding not to talk of training them is not a reasonable catch for a beautiful female who thinks she is invincibly irresistible. If she decides to take him away from a disadvantaged contestant and in the end find a baby in her romp, one too many for her conquest whose goal in the game was momentary gratification of a wild and untamed desire; it is her loss. Hence all daughters young maidens must be wise and alert.
Typical of the game of spurious chances where the players hide their motives, the cunning get ahead until natural laws which know no bias brings the game to a decisive end. The fear that, there may not be one besides that which is taken out there to be legitimately mine, and the brazen and often exaggerated estimation of whatever it is that makes one thinks irresistible, prevents the player from asking and perhaps negotiating and receiving a guarantee before a deal or no deal. Understanding that number two , three or four as the case may be is a continuum which ends in infinity; will this deal stop with me and is what I have, enough and stronger than all that may engage me after this conquest in a similar situation in future; should be food for thought(in fact main course and not a snack). After all, soldier comes, soldier goes; what goes up often comes down if there is no strong enough effort to maintain the status quo. What the eyes see do entice and it seems like the bigger the eye the bigger the craving and the recklessness in abandonment with potential dire consequences of a life time of irreversible ride with baggage too heavy for one. The young and the beautiful entice with their strength and beauty and are caught by the lure of greed and power exuding from the strong, rich and famous of the game. Welcome to the real whirl web where each player has eye on the price but fails to note the web that entangles for the black widow’s bite.

Dear female child, shine your eyes. All that glitter is not gold. As a female child you are the custodian of the key to the door of generations to come. Let the men and women who see your beauty and poise, see you as the future mother and grandmother of generations to come and not as some play toy for another’s fancy. The value you place on yourself and the price tag you dare fix upon yourself is what others would negotiate with you. If you think short term, the lease is short but the penalty is heavy and there is no opportunity to reset the clock. A broken egg may be used but it cannot be returned to its former state hence the usefulness is limited. Think wisely, choose carefully and take your time; life is not a shopping spree, neither is it a tasting contest. Experimenting with your body which has no duplicate is not a good idea especially when you are not in total control but just one of the players.Beware of injuries and penalties and your are not the referee; Mother Nature is.

There is a price for those who are faithful and those who wait upon God that made them male and female. It is His idea to make them in such a way to need each other and it is well within His alley to ensure that there is no lack for those who trust Him absolutely to bring about His counsel – “be fruitful and multiply”. Those that trust God but decide to help Him often get into trouble, please remember as you trust Him for the best He has for you.

How and where you find a spouse is where and how you may keep or lose your spouse! How you couple determines how you decouple. I am rooting for you because you hold the keys to the generations and this is a token of my commitment to see you succeed, a contented and happy motherhood.

Akiroro.

Categories: Prose

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