Wicked Girl (THE FIRE Book 1) Read online

  “I guess you ordered something special,” I mocked him. But he couldn’t even tell I was being sarcastic. I slapped the table.

  “What is it? Mosquito?” Elijah asked.

  I snorted. “It’s nothing, Elijah.”

  He frowned, staring at my eyes.

  But I didn’t raise mine. I gazed at the greasy, laminated menu that was peeling off and worried about our hygiene. Even the blinds were dusty. The one creature I wouldn’t be surprised to see checking on us was a cockroach. I avoided even imagining what their restrooms looked like.

  However, things took a different turn when the waiter brought our order. The white dinner plates were warm and screaming germ free. It was straight from a dishwasher. The grilled ribs mesmerized my eyes, nose, and eventually my mouth.

  When I realized I acted exactly like Leon when he was young, I smiled; I pushed the veggies aside and devoured the meat. I even put the fork and knife away and used my hands – the fork and knife were delaying me. The meat was so good, like the spices were mixed with honey.

  Across the table for two, Elijah laughed. I stopped chewing and laughed with sealed lips. “What?” I asked with a full mouth.

  “The fork and knife are wasting your time?” He said.

  I laughed.

  But the meat in my mouth choked me. I coughed and swallowed it, already seeing Dad in my head – laughing at me for getting the consequences of bad table manners when he taught me all the good ones.

  “Sorry. You okay?” Elijah asked already at the edge of his seat.

  I coughed whilst nodding. “How did you know this place? I’ve never eaten ribs like this. I wonder how they grill them. Soft, tender, spicy, sweet. The spicing is perfect. It has this sweetish taste to it.”

  “I Googled. I also didn’t know the place,” Elijah said. “They’re the only ones with ribs that scored almost five out of five stars from thousands of reviewers.”

  “Yeah, they’re so good,” I sipped the mango and orange juice, staring at Elijah’s face. “Again, thanks, sweety. I feel so special. You really got me on this one – I never saw even one sign you were preparing a surprise.”

  “You talk like the other surprises were not perfectly…”

  I giggled. “Let me confess baby”

  Elijah smiled. “Confess?”

  “The last surprise wasn’t a surprise. I knew you were preparing something. I was kind-of expecting.”

  Elijah’s forehead shrunk whilst he shook his head. “So you have a job waiting for you in Hollywood?”

  I laughed, staring at his eyes.

  “I was sure you were surprised. When I told you, you almost jumped – you hugged me – you kissed me. It looked real.”

  “How was your day, babe? You know, I had a horrible, horrible day,” I said, trying to change the subject. I could sense I had made a mistake. Faking being surprised could be a big issue with Elijah. Such a petty thing could graduate to serious talk about other things I faked. He was such a man of truth and detail in a way that astonished me. Annoyed me sometimes. He was just a machine, like the computers he programmed. And it’s not like he enforced it on other people only, but he was also strict with himself. One time, he discovered that a Price Chopper cashier gave him a dollar extra in his change, and he went to the shop the following day and returned the dollar. So I had to make him forget the surprise faking thing. I pinched myself for telling him. It must have been the ribs that overstretched my feelings and I spoke things I shouldn’t have.

  I slapped the table. He almost jumped. “Come back. Where are you?”

  “Oh, sorry. There is a minor thing I’m trying to process.”

  I knew he was processing the surprise faking thing. “Come back to the party boy.”

  He stared at my eyes. “You said you had a horrible day.”

  “Oh, yes sweety. I made a fool of myself today. Please don’t laugh like the people at the bus stop.”

  Elijah began laughing even before I mentioned the scene I made. I also laughed, “But you are laughing already.”

  “I’m laughing at the way you said it, not what you will tell me. Here you are telling me you’re going to tell me something that’s very funny, but you request me not to laugh at this very funny thing you are about to tell me. Babe, laughing is a reflex –” He laughed again.

  “You laugh, I kill you.”

  “Ok, deal. So if I don’t laugh, I kill you.”

  “No. I’m the only one who must kill you if you laugh. Baby, I chased the bus today. I arrived late at the bus stop and the driver drove away.”

  Elijah resembled a swelling yeast bun. “Weren’t you in high heels in the morning?”

  “That was the problem. I was baby.”

  He broke and laughed hysterically. I grabbed his arm and pinched it. He pulled it away. I joined in and laughed. I was surprised I was having great fun with my man. It was a lovely night even though when we arrived I was angry that he brought me to such a cheap restaurant. But the taste of the food changed many things, including my attitude. And I enjoyed the night-out he arranged for the two of us – no kids, cat or dog – just the two of us.

  He stopped laughing, “Did the driver see you?”

  “No. He drove on until some people in the bus and next to the road shouted. Then he saw me and stopped.”

  “But on a serious note, I also don’t like the way things are. As your husband, I wish we had at least one small car. Just a cheap Honda Civic.”

  I glared at his face. “When will that day come, Elijah? It’s been ten years now. You have been saying the same thing over and over again, but no results. You made me take a huge loan that I have to pay for the next five, six years. It’s not even a mortgage, but money your company ate up and reported a loss in the end. A loss, Elijah.”

  He gazed at my eyes looking defeated – like he had been slapped hard in his face. “How can you say ‘your company, your company’? Isn’t it our company?”

  A big part of me – if not all of me, regretted I had spoiled a great, great night. But I had no option now, I had to plough on. I had to spill the beans as Mila stressed. “Elijah, do you know how it feels to wear cheap clothes, cheap shoes, cheap perfumes if you are a woman? Do you know how it feels to have your husband called a good-for-nothing brother by gossiping girls at work? You feel worthless and empty. Even secretaries drive to work. Even gardeners, Elijah. Gardeners. But me, Mrs. Turner, the software designer, I board a bus. My kid is in public school. Do you know how I feel about all these things?”

  Unfortunately, my tone had risen. I discovered when I noticed people staring at us. Even the noisy kids at the back were quiet and stunned. I felt awful; I acted way out of my character. Elijah stared at me, calm like nothing happened. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe me. I couldn’t believe him. How could he remain ever so calm? Like I was a lunatic.

  After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, Elijah glanced at the people staring at us, then stared at me again. “So you are saying we have to run our lives like your coworkers? You’re saying I’m not capable of running my house. I have to consult your friends for direction and wisdom because I am a fool. I have no mind of my own. Why did you marry a stupid and incapable man? Why don’t you go to those women’s husbands and ask to be their second wife.”

  “Don’t make me a fool. You heard what I said. I said forget about that pathetic company of yours and get a real job.”

  A male waiter hastened to our table and asked us to lower our voices. Again, I was not aware mine had risen.

  Elijah stared at me, still looking calm like nothing happened. That irked me so deeply. I felt insulted. I was clearly the only one who had lost her mind. Even the people in the restaurant saw it that way. I sweated. I wished he could also burst and talk from his lungs. I hated I was failing to get through to him. He had some sort of invisible shield surrounding his heart and mind. “My God.”

  He leaned forward and placed both arms on the table. Then he laughed – laughter
of a serial killer. My stomach turned twice for his face was so close. I even smelled the ribs and mango juice on his breath. “Grace, tell me the truth on this one. When was the last time you talked to Mila about us?”

  My eyes bulged. I almost withdrew my stare to his eyes. “It wasn’t about us. It was about me. Just girl’s stuff.”

  His unwavering gaze into my eyeballs made my stomach turn again.

  “When?”

  “This morning.”

  He took the restaurant bill holder and put the money inside. Then he stood up, took his cell phone and left.

  I thought I was going to collapse and die. People glanced and stared at me. Some laughed after some guy in the left corner said, “Ouch!” Only the stressed lady at the back whispered, “Sorry.”

  I felt small and useless. Extremely undesirable. I couldn’t believe he left me sitting alone like a dumped cheap girlfriend. How could he dare forget I was his wife? His wife.

  8:58 PM

  The ticking wall watch downstairs sounded louder – like it was right next to me on the bed. Worse, the television voices and blasts downstairs had been silenced since Chloe had switched off the television. The street traffic was no more. Elijah’s typing on his laptop next to me sounded extremely loud too. I couldn’t concentrate. Somehow the uniformed, soft noises got to me more than the loud, random ones. I contemplated putting the Bible aside and listening to the audio version. Even the rustling of its pages annoyed me. But there was no gadget to play the CD since Elijah was using his laptop. I wouldn’t ask for it. The restaurant fiasco was still fresh. The toothpick in his mouth was a testament of its freshness.

  I didn’t have the will to talk to him or even look at him. Each time, I looked at him, my insides turned. I didn’t even remind him about our daily prayer. I just concentrated on reading and pretended I forgot it. I saw no point in praying together when we failed to share a cab. He called his and left me at the restaurant. I followed him with mine, embarrassed.

  The stubborn part of me wished to leave the bedroom and use the guests’ bedroom. But I wouldn’t dare. That would complicate things terribly. Not for Elijah but for me. He would not run after me and beg me to come back to the bedroom. He would never discuss it. Even if I use the other bedroom for a year.

  Eventually, I would be the one who would come back to the bedroom, embarrassed. Even then, he would not say anything about it.

  I stretched my legs. The temperature was also irritating but the sheets and the headboard had adjusted to my body temperature. The tickling, cooling effect they had when I climbed to bed was gone. And being in my silk nightdress didn’t help; it wasn’t light enough for the weather. The best option was just lying naked, but I wouldn’t. That would break the so much needed ice. Elijah would be distracted and start touching me until I loosen up. I wouldn’t even change from the sitting position to propping on one elbow – it made me doze and drool on the Bible several times before, after being pulled by the soft give of the pillow. Elijah would ridicule me saying, “The Bible was reading you the whole night,” thus, breaking the ice.

  I didn’t want him to have anything he could use to break the ice between us. He had to feel the pinch of missing me whilst with me. He had to feel the pinch until he changed his mind and get a job. Mila sounded sure that strategy is a killer. It suffocates even the hardest, proudest of men.

  At the corner of my eye, I glanced at him. He was thumbing his laptop with great enthusiasm. Deep hatred for his laptop brewed within me. I felt it wasn’t different from my rivalry. Always, when we had clashes I created to suffocate him, he would just open his laptop and forget about me. I would end up suffocating while he enjoyed working on his laptop. I got to the point where I wasn’t sure whether he valued work more than me.

  Maybe, he was having an affair. Another woman. Somebody he truly cared about. Not me. Somebody younger, fresh, much, much more beautiful and attractive. Not someone struggling to recover from pregnancy weight. I recalled some girl who called him a week ago. Yes, he claimed it was a client. But what if that was a lie. How could a girl that gorgeous and stylish have an interest in software development? On Facebook, where I followed her behind Elijah’s back, she seemed not geeky at all. She definitely was a crazy fashion fanatic. She posed in all trends of the latest fashions. More especially miniskirt fashions.

  When I realized my temperature and heartbeat were skyrocketing, I was inches away from turning to ask him about Natalie. However, I aborted the idea. My psychologist’s words whacked my face and drew me back on track: “Each time you’re about to blame him for a suspicion, just tell yourself he wouldn’t do that. It’s normal for you to always be on the lookout for abandonment since your biological parents gave you up for adoption. You don’t even know them. Even your new parents split, and you were left with your father who also died after some time. Your siblings were adopted; you don’t even know where they are now. That’s too much for one person. I won’t even remind you that you had a strong bond with your father. Yes, your mother came back when he was dead, but you don’t have a bond with her.”

  I glanced at the laptop again. Worse, it had started its low-level humming. It hummed like a happy housewife baking Thanksgiving queen cakes. Deep hatred for the laptop swept through again. I felt crushed. I recalled some line I read in some book: There is nothing that crushes a woman more than the feeling of being unwanted, undesired by her man. It is powerful enough to crush every woman to pulp.

  I shook my head and sighed.

  Promptly, his eyes were on me. I felt them since I did my best not to turn and face him.

  “Reading or procrastinating?” He said.

  “I’m trying to read, but the watch sounds noisier today,” I said.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  He continued thumping whatever he was working on. He had related what he was working on – something about a new client, but I had forgotten what it was. I had no interest in whatever he did, except when it related to hotties like Natalie. Those I had to follow and watch closely. The rest of his work didn’t attract my attention anymore. What good was it if it brought nothing home? Whatever he made only kept the silly company afloat, not us.

  Mila’s strategy came back to mind. But I feared implementing it. It wasn’t only against my faith, but I was strongly advised by older women who had successful marriages against it. Mrs. Jones put it more plainly, “You’re not the only beautiful, young woman on earth. You withhold your body; he will get other women to sleep with. I’m talking through experience, my dear. If you don’t wanna die lonely and in deep pain listen to me.”

  But Mila’s words also came to mind, “At times, the best way to be present is being absent girl. And the best way to be absent is being present.” I didn’t know which voice to listen to. Yes, the church women did have successful marriages, but they were from a different generation. Things change. Probably, Mila was more relevant. But I wasn’t too sure because she changed men like shoes and was never married.

  I sighed.

  “You will burst your brains,” Elijah said.

  “I won’t,” I said, feeling a little angry. At times, I even hated hearing his voice, more especially when he ignored my staged conflicts. My tolerance would sort-of die. Why would I have tolerance for somebody who could do without my emotional contribution to his life?

  He stared at me again.

  “What?” I screamed, feeling like crying for nothing. I glanced at the laptop again. I hated it.

  Five years ago

  CAROL

  Monday, January 23, 2012

  12:25 PM

  When I laid my cold and anxious eyes on Eva at the operating theater door, I picked up she hadn’t followed my orders. I had made myself clear to that skinny girl. But she seemed to have obeyed her mind and ignored her boss. Holding her elbow with the other hand always spelled disaster. Her face was also pallid as the wall and her eyes were pale blue like our uniform. She couldn’t even say much for she was shaky.
“She is here,” is all she managed.

  I even forgot I was in the middle of a surgery and prolonged my stare at her face. Her good girl, professional, ethical doctor garbage was deep in my nerves. I handed the abdominal swabs to one of the five nurses around the bed. “Fast. Finish her off. We’re out of time.”

  They glanced at each other.

  I stared at them. “You have something to say?” I asked, pulling off the snapping surgical gloves. I took off the surgical mask and cap. Eva was still a trapped rat at the door.

  There was silence for some time. Only the heart monitor beeped.

  “We’re happy for Lucy. She is really lucky,” Emily said, not even hearing herself.

  “Yes, ma’am. She –”

  “Ma’am, Ma’am. Who is Ma’am?” I stopped washing off the irritating rubber odor of the latex gloves from my hands. “How many times should I tell you the same thing? Huh?”

  “Oh, sorry. I’m so sorry doc,” Emily said as the others pretended to be fully focused on the patient.

  I glanced at her and strode to the door.

  Eva was still shaky. “Doctor, I...I’m very sorry. The lady said she is leaving. You will…”

  I pierced her with my eyes and paced up the hallway. She sprinted next to me. “Eva. What the hell did I say to you? Didn’t I tell you to call me as soon as she came to my office?”

  “You…You did, but I was scared. I didn’t want to jeopardize your job and mine, theatre rules are strict.”

  I turned and stared at her scurrying on my right. “So you’re my mom now. Listen here, young lady. I’m Doctor Carol Morgan. Quad qualified. Bronx Clinic needs me. You hear?” I shook my head. “And do you still remember I’m thee Doctor Morgan who should sign before you are fully accepted as a doctor. Never ever, ever try to lecture me on some stupid rules. And that lady’s life is nothing compared to what Karen should do for me. She holds the key to my life and happiness. You hear.”