CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Nairobi Cocktail, The Sleaze

If anyone had bothered to look, they would have noticed that Mwenda Samuel was taking bigger strides than usual, the type of strides somebody with purpose would take. If they would have looked at his face, they would have seen a deep-set concentration and perhaps think it was a strange look for a supposedly insane person but as he made his way back from Cecelia, he did not care about the little details. There were too many things he was trying to work out, one of them being time. How much time did they have because it was now obvious the clock had started ticking backwards? Who was going to make the first move between Boss and the watchers?

By the time he made it back to the shed, Cecilia had already moved her groceries right at the edge of Boss’ building, unaware that the spot she had picked was only a few metres away from where the packing boys were. They would probably have paid her attention if they had not been unblinkingly looking across the street. Being her first day on the street, she was not sure what she was looking for, but she hoped her experience would help her pick on stuff that did not look ordinary – if only she knew what was ordinary on Kirinyaga Road.  

Samuel’s heart was literally thumping and when he sat down on the bench to gather his thoughts and catch his breath, it was because there was a genuine need to do so. He looked down at his chest to see if he could see his heart beat beyond his tattered clothes. He couldn’t. He sat back and took a few slow breaths and thought about what he had just learned, or what he thought he had. His thoughts were jumbled, yet there was no time for jumbled thoughts.  

Rumour had it Boss was once a street boy and Samuel always took it as just that, a rumour. He was not so sure anymore. Nobody, not Onyango and not the authorities had any idea of where Boss came from. It was like he had just sprouted from the ground, like an unwanted weed and matured to become the most feared thug in the Nairobi metropolis. Now that he was sure the street boys were connected to Boss, it would make sense if he was once a street boy; it would make sense that nobody knew where he had come from, it would make sense that he seemed to know everything that happened on the ground level because the people on the lower ground level, street boys, swore allegiance to him. Samuel’s admiration of how Boss run his ship went a notch higher.

He was sure the street boys were watching a man, possibly more than one man. There was no doubt that at least one of the men was the same man Samuel had been watching before he went on leave. The street boys had mentioned killing and they had mentioned Boss…the questions bugging him were, who was going to be killed, and was it the same Boss? What were the chances that he was not? 

It took him five minutes to calm down. He fished out his phone from his many layers of clothes. It was a cheap black phone lacking in character, one he only used for emergencies thus it stayed off to preserve the battery.

The streets were busy but as usual, nobody visibly paid him any attention. He could have just dialled and talked to Kerubo but there was always a chance somebody would see him on the phone and wonder. This was no time to raise suspicion.

With hands inside his sack, he turned on the phone and dialled Kerubo’s number. He let it ring for five seconds before disconnecting. He sat and waited, impatiently looking across at Kerubo’s shop.

Kerubo was just giving change to a customer when the phone vibrated in her pocket. All morning, she had been expecting her adopted brother to call her. She had not asked him how he got her number but she suspected he must have gone through his mother’s phone. The text had asked for permission to call her and she had texted back a yes. That was over two hours ago.

She had mixed reaction when she saw the caller. Disappointed that it was not the one she expected and suddenly anxious that it was Samuel. Samuel never called to share good news, not when he was on the streets.

“Selina…could you please man the counter for me? I need to buy Samuel a pair of boots…”

“Mwenda Samuel?” Selina asked, looking up with a raised brow from the paper work she was sorting while sitting on the floor. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s raining and I saw him in the morning wearing soaked shoes…” She removed her dust coat and grabbed her bag. Her gun was in her bag.

“Suit yourself…are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look flustered…”

She swept her hands dismissively. “I am fine. I think all the alcohol I took over the week is finally catching up.”

Kerubo, from the shop door, peered across the shed and sighed in relief when she saw Samuel. At least he was fine. She walked fast towards him. “What’s happening?”

“Not sure. But you need to go and see Cecelia like right about now.”

By the time Samuel finished narrating what he had witnessed and heard, Kerubo was already heading towards Cecilia.

Cecilia was still sitting on the floor, looking around her, still wondering what it was she was supposed to have been looking at. Kerubo squatted in front of her and started selecting groceries, turning tomatoes slowly in her hands.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Cecelia asked.

“You see the parking boys behind you?” 

“What about them?” Cecilia whispered back.

“They are likely our guy’s boys. In fact Samuel is sure they are. They are watching something, someone, or two, across the street. Keep an eye on them, and across the street.”

“Gorrit.”

“Has you-know-who left the building yet? He lives in the building behind you?”

“I haven’t seen him.” Cecilia, who had never seen Boss face to face, had spent the last one week studying different photos of him. If he had passed by dressed in rags, she would have recognised him.

Kerubo stood up and turned around casually, scratching her head as she did so. It did not take long for her to spot the man Samuel had described. He was sitting on a kerb against a building, alone, and he was stoically looking across the street. Kerubo could bet he was a cop and that under the long coat was a gun. The question was when he intended to use the gun.  Kerubo turned to look at the parking boys. They were looking at the same man, unblinkingly.

She squatted again. “If you look across the street, a slight angle to the left from where we are. There is a man…”

“He’s is wearing a long brown coat.” Cecilia cut in. She had seen him and noticed him for just sitting on the same spot, doing nothing. He did not look like a typical idler. “I noticed him. One would think they would send people who try to be less conspicuous…”

“Perhaps they want to be conspicuous. It’s game on, I am sure about that. Keep an eye on him, and your gun corked. I need to call Onyango and update him. Please call me if anything happens…”

Cecilia chuckled. “By the time you get here I will either be dead or have killed them all. You guys are all so far. Samuel should spend more time on this end of the street…oh, and you are looking delicious…”

Kerubo blushed but just before she thought of something to say, there was a commotion that was more a presence than a commotion. The street boys were the first to stand up quickly, then she saw the two burly men, behind them was Boss. The three of them paused at the door, looked around then walked to the opposite direction of where Kerubo and Cecilia were.

When Boss suddenly turned with his eye line straight at Kerubo, she was about to stand up. She stayed put, returned his glare for a moment then started selecting her groceries again, heart in mouth.

Was it possible that he had recognised her, after just one night meeting that had not gone very well? If he had, she would not be surprised. His sort was good in memories.

“The statue just breathed life into himself.” Cecelia said, pointing across the street with the mouth. “He is following our man.”  

At the same moment, one of the boys left in a hurry.

“This is getting very interesting…”

***

At midday, Cecelia was noisily chewing on an apple, staring across the street at the empty spot where the watcher had vacated. Since Boss left, only one street boy had remained and he was dozing behind her. But she was also worried that her vegetables would run out. When she had set up camp, she had not expected to sell anything but people kept stopping by and buying stuff. Tomorrow she would have to bring with her double the amounts of everything. The customers took away the boredom, but they were also an obstruction because she couldn’t keep her eyes where she wanted to. 

Then Boss returned and with him, life on the street seemed to return as well. His first stop was right in front of her and at that moment, her heart almost gave up beating. The sun that had gifted itself to a rainy was directly above them and when she looked up at him, she squinted.

She said hello. “Hello sir. You want vegetables?”

He let his eyes linger on her for a few seconds before he nodded. “I do. They look very fresh.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “They are. What can I select for you? Onions? Tomatoes?”

“How about those two? For a hundred shillings each. ”

Cecelia stood up then then bent down to select. “You are a good man…your wife is lucky to have a husband who can buy vegetables for her.”

He chuckled. “I am not married…”

“Oh…” She said, standing up and holding out the stuff she had put in a bag. “Such a fine looking man without a wife? What do girls want? Oh, you must be the one who is refusing to get married…”

Boss found himself laughing. The tomatoes and the onions would end up with his street family because he had no use for them. His cook did all the shopping. He had stopped by because he liked to know who was new on the street, especially if the new person decided to pitch camp outside his residence, especially at these uncertain times. Looking at her, listening to her, he didn’t think she was one of the bad guys, but one could never be too sure. With her headscarf and leso and a jacket, she looked like any other mama mboga, but for his own peace of mind, he would ask his boys to keep an eye on her.  If he could be honest, he had stopped by hoping to find the tall woman who had been chatting to her earlier.

“Are you married?” He asked, selecting notes from his wallet.

“Yes. Ten years and four children later and counting.”

“Too bad. I would have asked you to marry me…” He laughed and walked away, waving at her.

She watched him until he disappeared into the building, wondering if making contact with him was a good or a bad thing, wondering if his stopping by was planned or a mere coincidence. She sat down slowly then turned to the parking boys. The other two had returned only seconds after Boss returned.

“Are you hungry?” She asked them.

“Yes…” they answered in unison even though they looked anything but hungry. In fact, Cecilia thought they looked extremely well fed.

“I am hungry but I do not want to leave my vegetables. Can I send one of you to the cafeteria?”

The boys looked at each other in confusion, then back at her in silence. “It’s okay. I know people do not trust you a lot, but I usually trust people unless they give me a reason not to. Come on, if you can get me fries, I will buy you two packets to share among yourselves…”

“Why would you use so much money? You are just a mama mboga…”

Cecelia wanted to slap herself. That was something she had not thought about. The profit margin in what she was doing did not allow her to go around buying extra lunches for parking boys. She smiled. “I won the lottery last week. I still have some of the money left to spread the cheer.” They looked at her blankly. “Don’t expect me to be buying you lunch everyday though. In fact, after today, I cannot afford lunch for a week so I will have to bring my own lunch…”

They laughed, at her. But it seemed to work because the biggest boy turned to the smallest and told him to go for the fries.

“Thank you. You are good boys…”

She ate her fries. She watched them share the two packets, their eyes constantly on the watcher who had returned only minutes after Boss. Next to the man was Mwenda Samuel, dozing on and off.

Samuel had watched, through half closed eyes, what was happening across the street. He had seen Boss stop by. He had not blinked during the five or so minute long chat. He had watched Cecilia engage the boys, watched her and the boys eat her fries. It all made him edgy because none of it was part of the script, but Onyango had told him to trust Cecilia. He had no choice but to do just that.  

One of the boys disappeared after lunch but returned half an hour later. It may have been her imagination, but the three boys seemed to take more interest in her more than before. They were watching her almost as much as they were watching the man across the road. She spent most of the time pretending not to notice them. There was a possibility she had piqued their interest because of the free lunch, but something had changed.  

By six PM, it was obvious to both Cecelia and Samuel that nothing else was going to happen. Besides, Cecelia had run out of stuff to sell and no longer had an excuse to stick around. She gathered her empty kiondo and sack and walked away, intending to stop by Kerubo’s for a chat. Half way, she changed her mind because she noticed that she was being followed by one of the parking boys.  

***

Kamau had given Oti twenty four hours to make his mind up. It was four PM and eight PM was fast approaching. He was still not sure what he wanted for himself, but he knew what he needed to do to stay alive. Finally accepting his obvious fate made his whole body shake so violently, he ran to the toilet and threw up bile.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smelled his own sweat and remembered he had not had a bath for forty eight hours at least. Using the one burner gas cooker, he warmed water in a sufuria and washed himself long and hard. He was desperate for weed to calm his nerves, but there was something he needed to do while still sober.

An hour later, carrying an envelope full of money, he knocked on his mother’s door.

“Who is it?”

“Me.”

“Who is me?”

“Oti…”

There was silence from the other end. It may have gone for three seconds or three minutes. Time stopped to matter because he was more bothered about what he was going to tell him mother.

She flung the door open. For the first time in close to ten years, mother and son faced one another in silence. For the length of time they stared at each other, Oti was slowly being consumed with shame. Shame to realise that he had never really looked at his mother’s face. That he had never really seen they had the same nose, and the same skin colour. He had never seen that his mother had a scar on her cheek – unless she had acquired it in his absence. But it looked like a very old scar. He had no memory of ever looking back at his mother because he had spent his time either avoiding her altogether or avoiding looking at her straight in the face.

Unable to handle the shame, he was the first to look away. “Mom…” He whispered.

“Come in, Oti…” She waited for him to enter before shutting the door behind her.

He stood inside, looking around at the small space he had grown up in. It nauseated him, to think that ten children and two adults fit in this space, space that looked too small for him right now.

“Won’t you sit down?”

Oti looked for a seat but could not find one. He looked at her questioningly.

“You forgot how to sit on the floor? Or are you afraid of making your nice clothes dirty? Okay, I will give you something to sit on…”

“No…no mom. I will sit.” He sat down, immediately feeling like the cornered kid he always was. “Where is dad?”

She shrugged and sat on the only available stool. “Who knows? Kibera is big…”

There was silence, awkward silence. He knew he should have been the one to break the silence, but he was grappling with words. He was looking at his own shoes, suddenly thinking how wrong it felt to wear shoes inside a house. He could also feel his mother’s eyes boring into his temple.

“Ni nini Oti? Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to come here?”

She laughed. One short sharp laughter than made his feel like a stupid fraud. “After nearly ten years you just realise you are still allowed here? Maajabu. Wonders will never cease.”

“Sorry…”

“Sorry? Do you realise how many times I have stayed up all night, worried about you – wondering if you were dead or alive? Do you? Even your siblings no longer spot you like they used to.” The last sentence was choked. He could tell she was fighting tears. He was having his own tears battle. “Why do you hate your mother so much, Oti?”

“I…I…” The reason his siblings no longer saw him was because he worked at night and slept all day, but he was not going to tell her that. In fact, unless she asked him directly, he would not be telling her he was still living in Kibera. “I…do not hate you.” Only when he uttered those words did he realise it was true. He did not hate his mother, he just did not know how to love her. “I thought you hated me and you wouldn’t care if I was alive or dead…” He blurted. It surprised him as much as it surprised his mother because the last time he had worried about being liked, or not, by his parents, he was not even ten.

“Are you stupid?” She asked incredulously. “You are very stupid. Why would you think something so stupid? You think I gave birth to you because I hated you?”

Oti shook his head, but he squared up to her. “Why did you? I mean, give birth to so many children you couldn’t take care of?”

“Children are a blessing…”

It was Oti’s turn to laugh. “How have we blessed you?”

Oti’s mother had looked and sounded vicious a few seconds ago. Now, as she answered her son, she looked anything but. “Children are supposed to be a blessing…” She said, almost to herself. “I failed. Your father and I failed. We thought if we had many of you, there were chances that one or two of you would make it. Mchezo wa pata potea.” She suddenly looked up at him. “But you look like you are doing better than them all. It is you who has been leaving stuff outside the house, isn’t it?” He nodded. “I knew it. I told your father I knew it was you.”

“You are not upset, are you?”

“Why would I be? That food has been enough to feed two of your sisters and their children…”

“I thought they were married?”

“They still are, to idiots. Your sisters spend their days looking for their husbands in the ghetto ditches…stupid drunks.” She clicked her tongue. “What do you do for a living?”

“I am a driver.” This lie was premeditated.

“Oh, that’s good. I did not know drivers get paid that well…”

“My boss is a rich man and he is generous too.”

“God bless him.”

“I came to ask if there is anything you need…I have some money saved up…”

She sat up straight, her face brightening up. For a few seconds, Oti saw a potentially beautiful woman, or a woman who could have been beautiful if life had been kinder to her. “How generous…should you not be keeping the money for your children?”

Oti chortled involuntarily. “I don’t have children. I am not married…”

“But you will be.” It was not a question.

He shook his head. “No. I do not want to get married and I do not want to have children…”

“Why not? Children are a…”

“…blessing.” He cut in. “Fallacy. We are not a blessing to you. We never made you smile. You were always shouting and threatening and whooping us. We made you and dad miserable. My sisters have children they cannot feed…how are they a blessing?” He wanted to go ahead and tell her as far as he was concerned, children were a curse, but he had shocked his mother enough and he did not want to be banished. “I am sorry we did not make you smile a lot…”

“You want to die without children?”

“Yes mom. When my time comes, I shall not regret that I did not have children. But please let’s not talk about that. Is there something I can do for you? Something financial?”

Oti’s mother looked at him long and hard then sighed as long and as hard. “Your call.” She was still on the issue of children, but she knew when to give up. “Anyway, you know very well we are always in need of money…your sisters and I …”

Oti stopped himself in time before he told her he had no intention of feeding his sister, then he thought about the box of money in his house and decided he could afford them too. He could afford to feed his whole family. He reached for his trouser pocket and removed the envelope. “Here. This should buy you some food. Ask my sisters if they would like to start businesses. Next time I come back, hopefully soon, I will come with some money. If I can afford it, I will help…”

“You were always the most difficult one, but I knew you would be the one to make something of his life…”

If only…Oti thought as he handed his mother the envelope, a strained smile on his face. By the time he left, he had added his mother’s number to his phonebook. Now he had three saved numbers.

***

Oti was not the only one having an awkward meeting that evening. Kerubo’s was awkward as well, at least the first part of the evening.

The day had started on a high note but by midday, the promising action had hit a plateau and she had spent the day chewing on her nails, staring at the door and checking on her phone over and over. Selina had noticed. “I am expecting a call from my adopted brother.” She had answered Selina.

“Why is that making you nervous?”

“Because we were never close. I don’t know what he wants to talk about.”

“Perhaps you were mentioned in the will…” Selina said with a shrug, satisfied with Kerubo’s answer.

“Is he cute?” Selina asked, nudging Kerubo with her elbow.

“Gosh, what kind of a question is that?”

“Valid question. It’s okay to think your brother is cute. I think Kamau is cute…”

“He is…” Kerubo agreed.

“So, is your adopted brother any good looking?”

Kerubo considered the question. She would not classify Joe in the same handsome section of Samuel, Boss or even Kamau. He was an average looking man who wore a lot of confidence. His confidence and smile were his best features. He was a little beefy than the kind of man she went for, but he was not fat. He was tall, the only tall member of the Kamau family. She remembered Mrs Kamau saying that Joe took away all their height. He used to love shaving off his head and during the burial she noticed he still did.

“He is an attractive man…” Kerubo answered.

“That’s a good start. Is he married?”

“Jesus. How about I introduce you to him then you can ask him all the questions you want.”

“You do that. I will appreciate. I am looking for a boyfriend, possibly a husband.

Kerubo was still smiling as she took Samuel his lunch.

“Why do you think he stopped by?” She asked when Samuel told her about Boss stopping to buy vegetables.

“Who knows? It could be innocent, or not. Cecelia seemed to have handled it well though.”

“Should I call her and ask?” She flipped out her phone without waiting for an answer. “Hey. Can you talk?”

“Everything is fine. I will pass by in the evening for a chat. Bye. Say hello to the children.”

‘Say hello to the children’ was her way of saying she could not talk at the moment, but things were under control.

“You know yesterday, Boss looked at me. Like, stopped, turned and eyeballed me.”

“Oh. You think he recognised you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps we are just over reacting. Maybe he just saw a beautiful woman…”

It was possible.

In the evening, Kerubo had waited for Cecilia who instead of turning up had called at almost six PM. “I didn’t want to come to you just in case I led them to you. Something changed after lunch time and I think I may need to be careful. Stay out of that end of the street for now.”

After the call, she had closed the shop.

Ngaara was a five to ten minute walk from the shop, depending on how fast or slow she walked. Kerubo had always walked to and from work, whatever the weather. Just at the corner, she saw the evening hawkers selling shoes and remembered she had promised Samuel a pair. Her phone rang as she was going through the shoes.  

“Hi Joe.”

“Kerubo!” He sounded cheerful. “Sorry I didn’t call earlier. I didn’t realise there was so much to do about our parents’ estate.”

“I can imagine.” She had her phone trapped between her shoulder and ear as she used her hands to turn over the boots.

“What are you up to this evening? My flight is the day after tomorrow and I was hoping to take you out for dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No…I don’t mind. It’s just the short notice.”

“Did you have something else planned?”

She shook her head. “No. Pick me up at eight.”

She found the pair of boots she liked and walked back to Samuel. “Awww…how thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“Do you perhaps need night help to watch the street? I could ask Onyango to send someone over.”

Samuel shook his head as he tried on the boots. “I doubt they will try anything at night. I usually make a couple of walks down that way so keep your phone on, just in case I need quick backup. Oh, look, the boot fits perfectly. Thank you.”

She did not tell him about her dinner date, and she could not work out why.

***

At six thirty PM, Oti walked with a confident bounce. Talking to his mother had had the magic effect of taking away his fear. It did not make sense to him but making sense about it was not a priority. He was savouring in the feeling of having chatted to somebody who was not a criminal. Kamau had called him a few minutes before six while he was still at his mother’s house and asked him to be at the same pick-up point at the same time.

This time round, he spotted the men before they spotted him, perhaps because he approached from a different direction from the day before. He did not need to be prodded to the car. He walked towards it willingly, opened the door himself and entered. Like the day before, he had butterflies in his stomach, but unlike the day before, they were not agitated butterflies.

He was happier than the day before, and sober, but when he entered the house, he put on his poker face. He had not been too drunk to remember that Kamau’s attitude towards him had changed. Oti had expected the same delegation as the day before, but there was only Kamau, sitting on the same spot as Boss had the day before. 

“Oti, come in. Please take a seat.” Kamau invited. He was still not his usual Kamau, but he was not the Kamau of yesterday. Oti even detected a hint of a smile.

“Thank you.” Oti took the farthest seat.

“How are you?”

Oti shrugged. “Confused. What is happening?”

“You will know, in good time. Have you made your decision?”

“I did not think I had a choice…”

“What’s your decision?” Kamau asked, ignoring the dig.

“I will do whatever you want, but I have conditions…”

“You are giving me conditions?” It was a question asked softly, but when Oti looked at him, he saw fiery eyes. He gasped.

“No…”

“But you just said that.”

“Wrong choice of words. I meant to say a favour…”

“Right. I think we should eat as we talk…”

Oti saw the bowls and the cutlery for the first time. He had been so focused on Kamau but as soon as Kamau mentioned food, even his sense of smell activated, so did his salivary glands. He waited for Kamau to serve himself.

“So…” Kamau said in between chews. “The conditions, also known as favour… I am listening.”

“My money. You know where it is kept?” Kamau nodded. “If something happened to me, could you please make sure that it gets to mom? I will give you her number.”

“Aha…are you expecting something to happen to you?”

“I am hoping nothing does, but these are dangerous times…”

“That’s fine. You give me your mother’s number, but let us hope nothing happens.” Kamau chewed thoughtfully. Oti tried not to stare at him but his former friend new boss was fascinating to watch. It was like something had happened to his whole being, his whole demeanour. Like some calm evil spirit had taken over his body. It was Kamau, yet it was not Kamau. “I am just wondering – didn’t you tell me that you are not in touch with your family?”

“I went to see my mother today.”

“Right…what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. Nothing sensitive, I swear. I told her I am a driver for a wealthy man who pays me well.”

“That’s very clever. I promise if anything happens to you, I shall act as your wealthy boss.”

“So…when do I…start?”

“How about tomorrow?”

***

At eight PM on the dot, Kerubo’s phone rang. It was Joe telling her he was downstairs.

She had settled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a red sleeveless top and a matching blazer. On her feet were a pair of two inches long heeled boots. Joe was tall, she did not have to worry about being taller than him. She did not mind towering over men, but this was not a night she was interested in towering over anyone.

“You look gorgeous.” He remarked with a husky voice that made her feel like squeaking. He came out of the car to open the door for her. He was also casually dressed in black jeans and a blue polo shirt, his feet inside loafers.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks burned, horrifying her because they were burning with shyness. She had feared this might happen, that Joe would bring out unfamiliar feelings, effortlessly unearthing her vulnerable self. With Samuel and everyone else she knew, it was easy to be the tough Kerubo who never let much bother her. Joe on the other hand had known her since she was a scrawny, dirty and sometimes snort-nosed near-homeless girl. That was, she knew, how she would always feel with him, with the Kamau children. She wondered if he could see beyond the plaster of sophistication she had on.

She did not have a lot of memories of Joe, like she did not have many of his sisters. He, like his sisters, was older than her, all in high school or college by the time she became a part time family member. He, like his sisters, would walk out whenever she entered, but unlike his sisters, he would give her a quick smile before disappearing. One time while she was in high school, she had been in the kitchen preparing chapati for the Kamaus, something she had done and got paid for. When she had turned and caught him leaning on the door frame, staring at her, she had almost dropped the plate she was holding. He had given her the smile before disappearing. She had stood for a near minute staring at the door and accepted he was her first crush. She had spent a lot of her teenager years wondering why boys never had the guts to chat her up yet everyone who dared told her she was beautiful. Joe may not have dared to tell her, but he had said what he thought with his eyes.

Nearly twenty years later, they were together, alone, and the same butterflies she had felt for him as a teenager were fighting to get to the surface, and she did not like it.  

It was a silent drive to the restaurant, but the radio stereo was playing soul music. From the corner of her eye, she could see him nodding to the beats, sometimes singing or whistling along.

“I thought a nice quiet place would be perfect. Then we can really talk…”

“Okay.” She said submissively, allowing him to place his hand on her waistline, nudging her towards the restaurant.

She was confused and as much as she wanted to blame the high adrenaline day, she knew Joe was the reason. Joe, someone who had always been so above her reach, a man she had always been afraid to look at because she was afraid of offending Mrs Kamau in case she caught her staring, was sitting across her, looking all so good and smelling so good and smiling at her like…like an equal.

It was the kind of restaurant that had menu-carrying waiters arrive at the table at the same time with the guests. The kind of restaurants that waiters were taught chivalry because they pulled seats for ladies. It was the type of restaurant that had waiters bow and smile at the guests. The kind of restaurant that Samuel and Kerubo avoided because they could not be bothered with fine dining.

“Thank you for accepting to meet me.” Joe said from across her as he studied the menu. She was doing the same. “I wasn’t sure you would accept to meet up.” He continued as he ran his finger over the list of food.

She cleared her throat. “Why would you think so?”

He paused to look at her, even managed to look surprised. “What? You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “No. I do not.”

“Oh wow. You are a good person. The four of us technically ostracised you as a kid. If that were me, I wouldn’t agree to meet. I hold grudges.” He chuckled. She cleared her throat again.

Kerubo looked back at her menu. “I didn’t notice.” She lied.

“I don’t know if that is good or bad to know.”

The waiter delivered their drinks and took their food order.

“But I want to apologise, and to thank you.” Joe continued.

“Whatever for?”

“Apologise for not being a better person to you. I lost an opportunity of being a good big brother. You were only a kid, and scared…my sisters and I should have been better people, encouraged you.”

“Your mom did a good job.”

“She did.” He swallowed hard. “Also, to thank you for being the daughter, the child that the four of us could not be. Mom and dad could not stop talking about you whenever we spoke on the phone. You made their last days bearable. Thank you.” 

Kerubo fought back tears. “It was nothing, really. It was the least I could do and I enjoyed looking after them when I could. Your mother made me. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where I would be. Probably dead…”

“I am sorry.” He reached across her and with the softest hands she had ever come across, he squeezed and rubbed her hands. She shivered and pulled her own away.

With the hard stuff out of the way and with the help of the wine, the rest of the dinner eased up. He spoke about his life in America, she laughed mostly because his life sounded like a tragic comedy. He was going through his third divorce in ten years. She would be sure to let Selina know he was available.

“Would you move back here?”

He took time to answer, chewing on his meat. “Would I move back? I guess I would. I mean, there is nothing to keep me there anymore. I went to university, I graduated, got married, divorced and repeated that two more times…there are no children to keep me tied there. I think I already paid for any sins I may have committed.” He laughed.  She smiled. “But it is not something I had ever thought about. Are you dating?”

The question was so out of the blue, she nearly choked on her wine. “Kind of…”

“Kind of meaning?”

She shrugged. “Meaning him and I are awesome friends but I can’t be bothered if I caught him with another woman.”

Joe chuckled. “Oh, wow. Would he be bothered if he saw you with another man?”

She laughed. “Certainly not.”

“Open relationship? Just the kind of relationship everybody should have. It makes life less complicated…”

She couldn’t agree more.

“Would you get married again?”

“Ha! I guess I would. Three times later I should be very good at getting married…”

She laughed. “Aren’t you heartbroken?”

He shook his head. “Nope. By the time the divorces were due, I was ready to jump off the cliff so no, I am not heartbroken.” He chewed a piece of meat thoughtfully. “Of course deep down you feel like a sucker…I mean, what else would you need to know you are an utter failure than three divorces. One thing is for sure though, I am not getting married to another American…”

“They were all Americans?”

He nodded and smiled. “I don’t think they loved me though. I doubt I loved them, but there is thing of being looked at as a novelty – you know, the African prince and stuff? Shock on them when they realised I was just a man from the Dark Continent.” He laughed, but he didn’t sound happy.

“My friend wants to meet you.”

“Who is your friend? Why does she want to meet me?” He asked suspiciously.

Kerubo shrugged. “I was just telling her that I was meeting up with you later and she asked me if you were cute.”

“What did you tell her? Do you think I am cute?” She nodded shyly. “Lovely…that serves to restore some confidence after the divorces.” He winked at her. “I think you are an absolutely gorgeous woman. I always thought that. I always wanted to ask for permission to stare into your strangely brown eyes…”

If her cheeks burned hotter, they would char. She took a gulp of her wine. So much for fine dining.

Two hours later, he settled the bill and led her out of the restaurant. “I brought you something from America.” He said as he opened the car door for her.

“Oh, nice. What is it?”

“I have it in the hotel room. Is it okay if we go for it?”

She hesitated, just to be sure she was not misinterpreting him. Over dinner, she had seen the lust in his eyes, smelled it. The lust had rubbed off on her whenever he touched her across the table. She had felt throbs in her body whenever he told her she was beautiful. Present or no present, one certain thing would happen if she went up to his room, and she needed to be sure she would not regret it.

“Let’s get it. I love presents.”

***

It was a de ja vu moment for Kerubo when she entered the hotel room. In this same hotel while she was in college, she had lost her virginity to Daktari. For a moment she wondered where Daktari was, if he had done his time in jail. Perhaps she should look for him?

Right now though, there were other things to think about; why she was here and if she would regret it tomorrow.

She stood awkwardly at the centre of the room even though her head was whooshing with too much alcohol and too much laughter. With her back on Joe and hands in her jeans pockets, she looked at the television set mounted on the wall. It was off. Then he was standing behind her, helping her off her blazer. She shook it off. He hang it on a seat and returned to her, hugging her from behind, pressing his excited manhood against her bottoms, breathing lust into her neck before kissing it. Slowly, he turned her to face him.

She had never realised how huge his hands really were until her cupped her face with them. “Look at me.” He commanded with a whisper. She did, but her eyes, intoxicated with alcohol and desire, refused to focus. When he kissed her, her eyes shut completely. It was a soft kiss, at least it started as one. He held her hair piece in one knot and pulled it gently, several times, his other hand working on her breasts, then both hands went for her jeans.

“You are sure?” He whispered. She nodded.

Joe effortlessly lifted her long frame onto the bed. “I have fantasized about this moment for years and I know exactly what to do.”

***

“I actually believe heaven is something close to what just happened?” Joe said.

They lay in bed, naked, sweaty and still a little out of breath, her head on his hairy chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat.  

Kerubo cackled. “What do you think your mom would say about this?”

He groaned. “On any other day, I would call you a party pooper for bringing her up at this naughty moment.” He laughed. “But somehow, I think she would actually be happy…only she would hope more happened?”

“More…how?”

“Mom was not stupid. She knew I had the ‘hots’ for you…”

Kerubo gasped. “But you didn’t!”

He laughed. “What a silly girl you can be. Of course I did. Surely you must have known…I used to love watching you but you always had this frightened look whenever we bumped into each other.”

“Can you blame me? You guys were scary.”

“I wasn’t scary. I was handsome. Anyway, I often watched you through the window as you did your work outside.”

“That makes me feel uncomfortable. What if you caught me scratching my nether areas?”

“I caught you scratching your boobies a couple of times…” He chuckled. She slapped him lightly. “You were in high school. I knew you were going be a hot number but…I don’t know. I was so used to hearing my sisters being all negative about your relationship with mom, how mom was bringing street children at home. I was afraid of offending them.”

“Ouch! That actually hurts.”

He shrugged. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this but in a way, I believe telling you may help you understand their attitude. They didn’t really hate you – they did not know you well enough to hate you. They just did not understand you and unfortunately they did not bother. We did not bother. They were uncomfortable with the attention mom paid you…I think they thought you were taking away her love from them.”

“That’s a terrible thought…” She felt suddenly vulnerable. She pulled the duvet to cover herself.

“It’s true. You see, my sisters are aloof – they took after dad, only worse. They did not have the best relationship with mom, which was weird because mom was never nasty to them. I guess it is possible to have zero chemistry with your own kids…”

“You did though…”

“I did, but I felt like I was doing something wrong in my sisters’ eyes. I loved mom but I was too cowardly to show it openly. When my sisters were out of sight, mom and I had the best time.”

“That sucks. Did she not say anything?”

He shrugged, shaking her as he did it. “You knew mom. She would not do anything to make people uncomfortable. I think knowing that I really did love her was enough. It doesn’t make me feel better though because I should have resisted my sisters.”

“Don’t beat yourself too hard. You were the youngest of them…”

“…and the man. Anyway, you loved mom unconditionally, she loved you right back. That scared us all.”

 “I don’t know what to say. Your mom was the best human being in the world. Why would anybody have a problem with her?”

“That’s the whole thing, they did not have a problem with her. Now that I am all grown up, I have accepted that my sisters are just naturally miserable, still are. Some people are like that. It wasn’t mom’s fault. It was just an accident of birth that she bore them…”

“And now…do they know you were going to meet me?”

“They did. I no longer seek their approval…”

“What did they say?”

“Nothing really. They don’t care…”

Kerubo laughed, for nothing better to do. “I need to go. I have to work tomorrow…”

“Oh no…was it something I said?”

She shook her head as she disengaged herself from him. “No. Nothing. It’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow.”

“But we just got warmed up.”

His boyish protests made her laugh loudly. “Perhaps when you come back next time we can do a repeat.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Perhaps.” Who knew what would happen tomorrow. “I can’t promise though.”

His shoulders fell with disappointment. “It would be awesome to see you before I leave…it doesn’t have to be for sex, but it would be awesome if it included sex as well.”

“You are pretty good at it so…” She winked, disappearing into the bathroom.

When she came out, he was holding a gold chain. “I got this for you.” He said. “I even have your name in tiny letters on the amulet.”

There really was a present.

***

Boss doubted he would ever, ever sleep. It was already midnight and he was still pacing up and down the rooftop, like somebody had injected adrenaline directly to his veins, like the alcohol he was drinking was laced with energy tablets. He wanted to sleep, needed to, his body did not want to.

He was at the rooftop enjoying being rained on. The last time he was rained on, he was a little boy. It must have been before Kimakia ruined his life by sodomising him. He clenched his buttocks. He always did whenever he thought of Kimakia. As a little boy back in the village, rain was never a reason to stop kicking the ball with his friends. They would kick it until the ball, made of plastic and clothe materials was too heavy with water to kick around. Right now, he was soaked to the bone, but he did not mind. The rain was giving him a sense of security, like the raindrops were a shield against any evil. And there was evil around, so much that it was tangible. Most of the evil was from him.

There was no doubt he had done a lot of good for mankind but even his good deeds were sponsored by evil. He took care of tens of street children with crime money.

He had uplifted Mr Choka’s life with crime money.

He was taking care of his parents with crime money.

He provided employment for hundreds of people, but his employees were all criminals.

Everything he did had a mark of crime on it.

Falling in love with Naliaka had turned him around. She had made him see himself as human, partly human. Loving her had given him hope that he could live a normal life of not running away from his enemies or eliminating them. Naliaka, his catalyst, had given him hope about something he had lost hope in – having sex. In the rain, he touched his groin and willed himself to picture Naliaka naked. It responded. The last one week had been a strange one because he had been preparing for his biggest fight so far and also, he had held a hard-on the longest. He had played with himself and although an orgasm had remained elusive, he had patted himself on the back. Yesterday, he had even looked at another woman and wondered how it would be to have sex with her.

Away from the good deeds and sexual ambitions, there were the outright bad deeds and those, without a doubt, would be his legacy. The murders he had personally. The ones he had ordered committed. The robberies. The tortures. The blackmails. If he knew a person like himself, he would hate them. He almost felt he deserved to die.

He was tired. He was tired of living on the sharp edge. The question was, would he walk out with his life? Would he go home with the girl? The possibilities were pretty slim knowing how things worked. He was working at laying down his insurance by having his own person, Kamau, on the mantle. He was working on eliminating people who were hell bent on getting rid of him, but he knew better than to under estimate them. The possibility of them killing him before he killed them were better than the other way round.

Unless he made the first move. Tomorrow. There was no turning back. Within days, he would either be dead or be a former crime boss.