The Wife ESCAPED!

The bus rattled down the road, making as much unhealthy noise as was in its power to make, all in a bid to draw the driver’s attention to its plight, but that carefree individual did nothing but increase the speed. Most passengers had to hold on to something or some part of the bus to avoid getting thrown off their seats. Caro grabbed the back of the seat in front of her and held on tight as her whole body was racked and rattled as a result of the reckless speed, the rickety nature of the bus and the deplorable situation of the road. But suddenly, she felt a hand on the upper part of her buttocks! She gasped in shock and quickly looked to her left.

The elderly man there was holding on to the seat in front of him with both hands and a sour expression on his face. So she turned her attention to her right. The young man there had one hand on a hand-hold above the window, his face was serious and staring ahead, but his other hand was nowhere in sight! Caro said nothing. She could still feel his hand on her bum and she made no move to remove it. She simply held onto the seat ahead with her left hand and brought the forefinger of the other hand to her mouth.

The young man had clearly gained the required confidence and courage to increase his level of intrusion – Caro could now feel his hand slowly caressing her waist and moving lower still. And she let him. She was very busy with something else: designing the nail of her forefinger with her teeth.

When it had reached the desired sharpness, she suddenly turned to him and dragged the razor-sharp fingernail down the side of his face with all the force she could muster.

“Aaaah!”, he screamed, quickly withdrawing the offending hand and clutching his injured cheek with it. Caro looked straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

“Wetin happen?”, a handful of anxious passengers asked. But the young man shook his head vigorously. “No, no, nothing,” he muttered, still clutching his cheek. “Na just mosquito.”

“Nai you come dey shout like say na one big thing happen?”, hissed the woman occupying the seat directly in front of him. Other passengers grumbled and hissed too at the young man’s incredulous reason for shouting, and then silence reigned again.

The vehicle rattled and jumbled on for a few more minutes before they were greeted with another shout from the same young man who was still clutching his cheek, now with the aid of a handkerchief.

“Stop Stop! I wan come down for here!” He was already on his feet even before the vehicle rattled to a stop. He paid the conductor and quickly jumped down, not bothering about his change. And neither did the conductor. He simply called for his driver to move on and the journey continued.

Caro breathed a big sigh of relief at the absence of the young man. He had left behind an empty space and she quickly moved to claim it, giving everyone else in her row a chance to sit comfortably. She was now near the window and focused on the flying scenes outside while trying to imagine how her life would be on her return to the village.

There was a huge probability that she would be forced to marry Iron Fire again. But to be sure, she was already his wife, wasn’t she? He had paid her bride price, done a traditional marriage and had even welcomed her into his house! This sudden realization made Caro sit up immediately.

Was there a possibility that her escape was actually a criminal act? If so, then she really had to avoid police officers. If her parents were to get Trisha on their side, she could be declared a wanted person which could result in her arrest and imprisonment! Well, she would just have to try and avoid getting caught before arriving at Rosa’s. But wait! What was that? She had seen that signboard somewhere before, but where was that? She racked her brain, trying to place it, but to no avail.

As the vehicle rattled on, she had an uncomfortable feeling that the signboard she had just seen meant something really important, and then somehow, the image of Trisha came into her head and she gasped.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!”, she shouted. The conductor was being lackadaisical about informing the driver of her request and Caro had to shout at him. “Conductor, tell your driver na! I wan come down here!”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

At last, the driver got the message and the vehicle came to a halt. She climbed down and handed the conductor the two hundred naira note. He gave her a hundred naira note as change and she grabbed it without thinking twice and then started hurrying back along the busy road in search of that familiar signboard.

When she located the board which was at the bus stop, the same bus stop where she first met Trisha almost a year ago, she hurried deeper into the garage part as fast as her legs could carry her. She had to move smartly and quickly to avoid the resident transport-advertising ruffians who clearly did not recognize her.

Soon, she reached the market part of the bus stop and her heart skipped a beat. The place had undergone some changes and she felt a little lost. Desperately, she scoured the area with her eyes, trying to get her bearings.

Luckily for her, she soon caught sight of a uniquely bent wooden electric pole. She knew the pole very well, having used it in the past to shield herself from hungry eyes while she counted her profit from the day’s sales. She also knew that the pole was not too far from her desired destination.

Ignoring the changes and using her old knowledge of the area, she maneuvered her way through the market and found herself at the orange seller’s shop. And right in front of it was the orange seller herself whose name she never found out.

“Good Morning, ma,” Caro greeted, kneeling.

The woman stared at her in surprise and it took several seconds before she found her voice. How on earth could an educated, beautiful and fresh-looking city-bred girl greet an ‘ordinary market woman’ in such a manner?

“G… good Morning, my dear. Please stand up. How can I help you?”

“You no remember me?”, Caro asked as she dusted the sand off her knees.

“Ehhh… your face… e be like say I don see this face before. But I no remember where I for see am.”

“You remember that girl wey dey hawk orange for you tha’ year tha’ year…”

“Oh oh oh! Emmm… wetin be that your name again? Ca… ca.. Yes, Caro!”

The woman engulfed her in a happy hug and Caro could not help but shed a few tears which she quickly wiped off before the woman could notice them. It felt good to be welcomed in such a manner. It made her feel loved and relevant.

“You don change o, Caro. See as you fat, come yellow and fresh join,” the woman complimented, holding her at arms length and running an appraising eye all over her before pulling her in for another hug. “Where you come dey all this while na, eh? You just disappear without even a word of goodbye.”

Caro promptly went on her knees again.

“Please… abeg ma, no vex. It was not deliberate. I… I… I help somebody enter bus, nai the driver just speed go like that. When we come reach where the motor go stop, I no come fit find my way back here.”

“Eyaah. Sorry, my dear. Abeg stand up. I no know say na wetin happen be that. I come dey worry. I think say maybe na all these agbero boys nai don kidnap you or something like that. Thank God you are okay. Ah, Caro Caro. I miss you o! As you comot eh, na so my business come slow down. Nobody to help me sell like wildfire.”

Caro smiled shyly at this. She could see that the woman had added other fruits to her stock, and she wondered if the ‘slow down’ had passed. But when she put the question to her, the woman explained that in the face of increased competition, she had chosen to add faster selling fruits that were mostly bought from stalls since she had no one to help her hawk oranges.

“Ah, sorry ma. As I don come back so, maybe I fit…” She stopped there and gesticulated the rest with her hands.

“Ah! If you fit help me as you dey help me before eh, I go dey very happy o. In fact, I go increase your commission. You don eat this morning?”

“Em… no, but…,” Caro stuttered, unsure exactly how to explain her current dilemma.

“No problem. Just sidan, make I rush go buy food from Mama Put,” the woman said, patting the lone bench in front of the stall. Caro sat down and watched with a smile as she rushed off to get breakfast.

“My long lost daughter don come back o,” she announced to her fellow market women as she went.