A Hazel Haven

Interlude VIII

Interlude VIII

Amarachi didn't look at the man reclined on the bed as she slipped on her panties and donned on her uniform.

"When will I see you again?" He said, and came to her as she sat on the bed's edge, fixing her tussled hair. "I'm leaving two days from now." Nuzzling her neck, he cupped her sore breasts through the uniform, squeezing briefly. Amarachi winced then disengaged from his touch. The money was on the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, eh. I know I was a bit rough but I'll be gentler next time. I'll even give you more money."

At the door, she glanced over her shoulder. His flabby body glistened with sweat, his protruding belly rested heavily on his thighs as he eagerly awaited her response. He was more than old enough to be her father and certainly was one. His wife would be at home, comforted by the thought that her husband's late nights were always a necessity for the family's wellbeing.

The sight repulsed her but she smiled and said she would be back same time tomorrow. A lie. The old fool believed it. He called her sweet. Told her she was tight-the younger, the greater the pleasure. She left. As Amarachi walked down the corridor, pain bloomed in places where the man had groped while he'd made terrible animal-like noises. At the tender age of ten, Amarachi had learned four things: Life was unfair, nothing was for free, men were dogs, and rich people had the craziest of hobbies.

Being the last of eight children, no one minded her much so she had unrestricted freedom. Children from polygamous homes usually did. But her case was special. Since day one she had been eschewed by her siblings for her inadvertent existence and almost killing their mother. They beat her for the slightest mistakes. She had neither the patience to acquire a skill or the head for books and they reminded her every day after abusive tirades. They said beauty was her only gift---a fine for nothing.

They called her useless, called her stupid. They were right. Although her mother rebuked them whenever possible but years of vitriolic attacks without fail eventually took its toll. Soon Amarachi resolved to exploit that advantage even though it led her into the bed of men. She would transcend the stifling boundaries of poverty through whatever means, and one day marry someone rich. Yes, she would have the last laugh.

She already had a potential candidate-it had not been too hard. From the first day she saw him, she just knew he'd be perfect. He ambled inside the lobby with some shopping bags in one hand while the other held his sleeping child. Turning his head this way and that, he responded to greetings from the staff. She loved everything about him: his handsome face, sturdy physique, his athletic gait, his voice, his smile, his smell. Instantly a wide smile lit up Amarachi's face as she rushed to welcome him.

"Oga Law! Good evening, sir!"

"Amara? Good evening." Lawrence looked puzzled as he reciprocated her smile. "Why are you still here? It's late. Don't you have classes tomorrow?"

"No, sir." Amarachi shook her head vehemently. "Many work be dey today. There was a lot of work to be done today." He didn't protest when she offered to take the bags even though he'd told others off.

"Well, you can't go back home today. It's not safe. You'll have to sleep over."

"Yes, sir," she had come prepared. They walked side by side. "You be travel? Because I no see you since." She beamed, using her most innocent voice. "Did you travel, because I didn't see you for weeks?"

"I did o."

"Eh-eh. I'm so happy you're back. I missed you well well." They stepped into the elevator.