Episode 40: It Didn’t Take Long

posted in: Jennifer: Grass To Grace | 2

“I want to ask you something, can I go ahead?” I asked.

We were still on bed in the Hermanplatz hotel but it was morning already. It was time to ask him about the injection and the pills he gave me back in Porto. I took both medications with fear while in Porto simply because I had no choice. I didn’t want to lose him because I didn’t also want to return to prostitution in Lisbon. But now that we were in Berlin, it was time to touch the old topic once more.

“No, don’t ask me. I don’t want to hear it,” he said.

I protested. “You don’t even know what it is I wanted to ask.”

He kept quiet.

“Baby, it’s about the injection and the capsules you gave me in the hotel in Porto,” I said anyway.

He turned around and looked at me. “What about them?”

I told him that I needed to know more about them since I was the direct recipient.

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important to me to know what I put inside my body,” I said.

“I think you are going to be a lot of troubles for me.”

“No, I am not going to be any trouble for you. Since I am going to spend the rest of my life with you, I think it is better we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I said.

“Which prophet told you we are going to spend our lives together forever?” he asked.

“Prophet Solomon told me. Remember you said you will never let anything happen to me.”

He laughed. “That’s different.”

“But you can just tell me what the medicines were for. I trust you won’t ever harm me. You have demonstrated that on numerous occasions but it would make me have peace of mind of I know what was injected into my body system,” I continued.

He began. “The injection was anti syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases. The capsules were anti pregnancy,” He said and kept quiet.

I stood up from the bed and sat on the edge. It was time to take advantage of the small window that just opened. I didn’t know how it could end but I was going to push him to the wall. He had no right to give me what I didn’t know. I wanted the pregnancy because I wanted to keep him as mine. At the time we were on the run in Porto, I feared daily that he might leave me someday. As a result, I wanted to get pregnant to be able to trap him down with me. I knew he wasn’t the type to abandon his child. He couldn’t abandon a stranger like me; therefore it was unthinkable to believe he could do that to his own blood.

“You have no right to give me such medicine without telling me first,” I fired.

“Go to the toilet and vomit it,” he said.

Imagine the clown.

“I am serous,” I said with raised voice.

“So am I,” he said as his phone started ringing.

“I am on the third floor. Come up,” he said on the phone and cut it off.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Madam Grace. Since you don’t want to shut up, you are going back to Lisbon.”

“That’s not true and this conversation is not over yet,” I said as I scrambled into my Jean trouser in anticipation of the person who was coming to the third floor. I knew the person wasn’t Grace but I was scared nonetheless.

Two minutes later, an Igbo man of about 30 years showed up.

“Jenny, this is Johnson. The one who was supposed to pick you up yesterday,” Solomon said.

I smiled as if everything was alright. I was nagging Solomon down. I knew what I was doing anyway; I was testing his resolve to be with me. I knew he wasn’t suddenly going to throw me back to Portugal because of whatever I would say. It wasn’t going to be easy because I can only travel willingly. He wasn’t going to kidnap and bundle me down to Portugal. Despite everything I knew he could do, kidnapping and sending me back to Portugal wasn’t one of them. He didn’t have the facility and the connection to do such thing. It was the reason why I wanted to make him annoyed. I wanted to see if he would hit me but so far, he managed to handle things maturity and sarcastically.

“Jenny is the girl I told you I was bring back to Germany. She is my girlfriend,” Solomon said to Johnson as he turned to me and said, “Take some money, go downstairs and see if you could buy anything for breakfast. Take you phone with you, call me if there is any trouble.”

I wasn’t’ in the mood to go downstairs, I wanted us to finish the topic we started but I knew that he needed to discuss something in private with Johnson.

I picked up my phone and left the hotel room.

It was already 10 am but I didn’t to know where to go. I would have loved to return to the African shop where we ate the day before but for one, I didn’t know the road to the place and secondly, I doubted it would be open by that time of the day. As a result, I just walked around the hotel until I saw where the Turkish people sold Donner Kebap. I liked Donner; I ate it a lot in Portugal.

I was still telling the Donner man the kind of ingredients I needed when he crept behind me.

“Are you not the girl I saw with Ozoigbondu yesterday at the shop?” he asked.

“Who are you?” I asked.

I was alerted. I guessed he was the kind of men Mr. Frank told me about.

“I am his cousin Ken,” he said.

“He didn’t tell me he has a cousin in Berlin.”

“Here is my phone, you can call him and ask. Tell him you saw me just now. I was with him at the table where we eat and drank whisky yesterday evening at the shop,” He said.

“I don’t recognize you and I don’t think I am touching your phone. You can call him yourself.”

“Give me his number,” he said.

“I thought you said he is your cousin. Why are you not with his phone number?”

“Well he said he will buy a new number today and give me,” he said and smiled.

I turned away and ignored him. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not but one thing I discovered in Berlin already was that Solomon didn’t want to be in contact with many people. He didn’t tell me that but I figured that out already. Everyone who wanted his phone number the day before was told to wait until the following day. He told them the number he had with him was Portuguese and that he would throw it away. I was sure he didn’t want to share his phone number yet because Mr. Frank offered to buy him a sim card across the road but he refused. It was time for me to start to also follow his steps in terms of intelligence because if I didn’t pay attention, I was most likely going to be making mistakes that could put me in trouble with him.

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2 Responses

  1. Ride on …

  2. correct babe with sharp brain. A product of Ozoingbodu indeed.

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