Short Story

“Agi, Agi, the sun is beating us human blue black and you are here snoring”  polished manicured nails pinched the lump-like form on the bed.  “Eh-eh” was the reply from Agnes who went back to sleep like an addict on a high, though she had a smile on her face.

“Wait here, lemme come back and catch you sleeping” Madame Clara hissed and left in a fury. She couldn’t do anything to Agnes. She was Oga’s newest collection and she acted like a priced porcelain doll that would break at the slightest manhandling.

On hearing the click, Agnes woke up and stretched, her arms reached the headboard. She looked lanky for a girl her age and she took to her form as a bear would a forest. 

She hurried, as timing was all that mattered before Madame carried out her threat. Pushing her to test her resolve was what made her day memorable but then even an elastic rubber has its limit. Agnes tiptoed from the room to the foot of the stairs, wanting to make sure Madame would not hear her coming.

“I’m here ma” Agnes spoke a little too loudly as soon as she got to the kitchen, jolting and scaring Madame out of her skin. “Yes, one for me again” Agnes smiled behind Madame Clara who had begun to arrange herself, she always looked too tidy like she was expecting some statesman, but then Oga never had guests over nor hosted any party in the house. He preferred his parties outside so he could have fun without the guilt of betraying Madame.

“The queen has woken from her beauty sleep” Madame Clara said haughtily”. ” hope it wasn’t too difficult finding your way down here without an entourage” she continued her barrage of insults, while Agnes went about opening pots. She was hungry and from the looks of the plates piled in the sink, the horde that swamped around the house hadn’t thought to include her in the partaking. Losing her temper, she screamed out “Ekaite”, who would suffer immeasurably for the sins of the others, after all, God punished innocents and sinners alike. 

“Yes ma” Ekaite who lived in fear of “push-me-I-die” a name she called Agnes whenever she gossiped with the others. She whispered the name like she could be struck dead if she spoke it out loud. “Make me brunch and be fast about it. Agnes called out and walked away. “Eh, prease ma, wetin be brunch? Na soup abi na food? Ekaite questioned before Agnes could leave the kitchen. Surprised at the question, Agnes began to laugh, holding her sides and shaking her head at the absurdity of the question. “So you mean you don’t know what brunch is” Agnes asked in between laughs. “No, ma” but you fit tell me, so I frit learn”. Ekaite said, as she hoped to diffuse the torrent of insult Agnes would unload soon.

 Agnes took a good look at Ekaite, perhaps seeing her for the first time, her hair plaited or cornrows as it is called in the states, the foundation on her face waged third world war with her complexion and her eyebrow was a semi circle carved out by a toddler from the looks of it. To describe her clothing would be to describe "Jenifa", only this time it would be doing Jenifa a disservice. Her earnest face striped of any false act made Agnes appraise the reality of the situation. That is if the odds weren’t in her favor, she could have been in Ekaite’s Position. The words that played in her head as she went out of the kitchen was “That could have been me”