Of All the Girls in Lagos Ch. 07

"Thanks mom," Banks replied. "I know that, but thanks still."

Madam Bankole nodded and closed the bedroom door after her.

***

Lade was cutting fresh pepper on the kitchen table next to the gas cooker on which a pot of macaroni was boiling. There were other plates on the table containing chopped onions, shredded fish, diced fresh tomatoes, and the last with liquid eggs. When she finished with the pepper, she grabbed a clean frying pan from its place and lit the second burner on the portable gas cooker. She placed the pan on it and went for a satchet of groundnut oil which she poured into the empty pan.

There was a knock on the back door. "The door is open Cindy!" She put some of the chopped onions into the heating oil. It made a charring sound when Cindy entered the Kitchen with a loaf of sliced bread.

"Okay babe, you're seriously going to start making your neighbours jealous from all this new you."

Lade smiled. "What do you mean the new me? This is Nicky every day."

Cindy laughed. She placed the loaf of bread on the kitchen table and walked past Lade towards the bedroom door.

"Why should I care? They've been envious of every little thing I did. Where are you going?"

Cindy dropped her jaw. "Oh...My...God! Nicky! Your bedroom is tidy!" She stuck her head in and sniffed the air. "Lavender!" She turned to Lade with a pleased look. "Room freshener! Really Nicky! I hope you're not planning to invite Lover boy to this place. Gina and friends will love that a lot."

Lade added more ingredients to the frying pan. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Cindy took out the indian hemp wrapped in a lump with rolling papers which she'd brought along. "Well, since after your date with lover boy, you've been...well, I hear the whole corridor smelled like you were baking turkey yesterday."

Lade turned at Cindy with widening eyes, "it was just half a kilo of chicken I made pepper soup with. It's been a while I treated myself to something other than staple."

"Rub it in their noses while you are at it jare...You are the talk of the building as usual Nicky. At least, your bedroom is tidy...improvement in the right direction, if I should comment. We can high after breakfast."

"Cool, thanks Cindy. Sting hasn't called me since the other night. I'm running out."

Cindy searched her pockets as it suddenly hit her that something was missing. "Shit, my phone..." she paused to think. "I think I must've left it on my bed." She placed the drugs on the Kitchen table. "I'll be right back." Cindy said as she made for the back door.

"You better. The macaroni is almost done and I don't know how to wait." She heard the back door slam shut and shook her head.

Cindy got into her first floor apartment and found her cell phone on the bed to her relief. She was hungry and also wanted to puff at something. Anything. Out of habit more than sheer instinct, she walked to look out the window of her bedroom. It overlooked the gate into the apartment compound and was in time to see three black Hilux trucks suddenly pull up outside the gate. They were marked N.D.L.E.A in bold green paint.

***

Banks held a water-hose at his soapy Mercedes convertible rinsing the surds off when he heard the gates open and Vanessa's KIA RIO drive in. she was behind the wheels. Banks frowned to himself. He couldn't understand why his elder sister who was probably worth more than her bosses combined would bother to stress herself for a single day. It was a sore topic she never liked him broaching. He focused on getting all the soap on the two right tires.

Madam Bankole stepped onto the upper front balcony reading the morning's financial reports from her SAMSUNG GALAXY TABLET. She held a cup of herbal tea by its saucer. She looked up to see the KIA RIO coming up the driveway and went to her favorite rocker chair glad that she would get to see her daughter before she left for the office.

Vanessa pulled up behind Peter's Mercedes and shut her engine off. She looked like it had been a long night. "Peter! I see Mummy is back." She alighted from the car wearing a costly red jacket over her shirt and trouser.

"Yeah, haven't seen her this morning though. Probably still in her room. Good morning."

"Good morning," she said with a yawn while she opened the door to the back seats to retrieve her overnight bag.

"Must've been a long night." Banks observed.

"You can't imagine. There was an eleven year old with a tumor in his brain. I scrubbed in with Dr. Nkrumah and have been on my feet for the past thirteen hours." She gave a long exaggerated yawn and shrugged. "Nothing a long dip in the bathe tub and a couple hours sleep won't handle though."

Banks turned off the hose. "An eleven year old with a tumor in his brain! Damn! How is he now?"

"Tumor was clipped off clean. I only pray, there will be no complications when he wakes up."

"Amen to that! Apart from the God complex part...getting to save people's lives except the...insignificant number that die under your care...I still wonder why you do it. I mean, you don't have financial needs. You could pursue your hobbies and interests...have fun living your life; I don't think you..."

Vanessa interrupted, smiling. "This argument again? Peter, I've told you. I do it for the same reason you go out every day to paint something. You don't need it to earn money, but you love doing it. It's your hobby and interest as you put it."

"Hmm, so clipping tumors and saving lives during double shifts happen to be yours. Nice. Meanwhile how is Mike?" Banks wished the next instant that the question didn't leave his mouth. He'd just invited Vanessa to recall the last time he spent time with them and ask after Lade. He wasn't ready for that conversation. "I haven't seen him in a while." He continued.

Vanessa thought of brushing the question off with a simple 'he's fine'. "I was with him two days ago. He's at Kaduna now...summoned to headquarters, he said. I'll tell him you asked after him."

Banks studied his sister. "What are you not telling me?

Vanessa sighed. "You ask too many questions, you know that." She handed him her car key. "Help me put the car in the garage. Hopefully God will touch your mind to wash it as He did yesterday."

Banks stared at the key in her outstretched hand. He wasn't put off by her attitude. "Kaduna! That's the Nigerian military headquarters, isn't it? You're suspecting he'd be deployed to a front...maybe ECOMOG stuff? This unending religious conflict in Senegal." He took the key from her, moved to another side of the car that was still soapy and turned on the hose to resume rinsing the car.

Oblivious to them Madam Bankole was all ears. She was no longer interested in the financial data showing on her tablet. Eavesdropping on her kids as she sipped her tea seemed far more interesting in that moment.

Vanessa was clearly startled at the thought. She hadn't considered that. She had a more sinister fear - a remote reason why a strong woman like herself was coming down with morning fever, sudden dizziness and wobbly feet. She had vomited twice that morning already and had stopped at a pharmacy to purchase a pregnancy test kit which was somewhere in her bag. She clutched her bag tighter at the thought. Her mother hadn't even heard not to mention approved of her engagement to Mike. And now the possibility that Mike could be flying out of the country to an actual war front... She shivered at the thoughts in her head.

And then there was something else. Something she'd been meaning to ask Banks about, when their schedules afforded them time to talk. Now was as good a time as any; something to change the topic with.

"Ehen! Peter! What did you later do about that girl you told us about? I mean Lade."

He didn't have any honest reply ready. Not even an answer to postpone or actually waive it. He looked away from the questioning glance on his sister's face. There was nothing wrong with taking an old friend out on a date to play catch-up. Why then did he feel guilty like he'd committed a crime?

His silence only meant one thing. "You called her!" Vanessa blurted as if surprised.

Banks nodded. His throat felt dry and so he swallowed before replying. "Yes, I did. I asked her out on a date and she accepted."

Vanessa's jaw dropped with incredulity. "You did what! After what you said happened the last time?"

Banks turned the hose off and dropped it on the floor. "She's my friend. I took her out a couple days ago Sister Vee, and believe me, she is still the Lade I know. Probably a different version, but deep inside I know."

"What about the PIMP that threatened your life the last time? I'm guessing he didn't show up this time since you're still standing in front of me in one piece."

The tea cup almost slipped from Madam Bankole's hand but she caught it with a nice reflex that almost sent her tablet flying off her lap. She set the tea cup on its saucer on the side stool beside her and listened. The conversation hadn't stopped. They hadn't heard her. Again, Banks was silent for lack of a suitable reply.

Vanessa decided to fill in the blanks. "Okay, maybe she slipped away from his attention for a few hours. How long will she keep slipping out to meet you before she's found out and you're in trouble again? In the meantime, what does she do when she is not with you? She is a hooker, regardless of whoever she was before. She has changed."

"Only their priorities do. You've not even seen her, yet you're so sure! People don't change!" Banks replied.

"The scene you described at the bar is enough for a blind man to know what is going on!" Vanessa retorted. "I'm not even talking about the possibility that she's a drug addict. Can you swear she doesn't smoke cigarettes at least?"

Banks sighed. "You're talking as if she's an evil person. I know mom's associates that smoke."

Vanessa was very irritated now. "Mom's associates! Seriously! This means you've actually seen the girl smoking. I've always known you to be very cautious for crying out loud! Always weighing the pros and cons. Now you're nurturing a reckless relationship with a call girl...one with a pimp! I'm not proud of the choices you're making Peter!"

Banks was at a loss. "You know, of all the people in the world, I thought you'll understand better how I feel." He bent to pick up his hose and go around the bonnet to resume his rinsing.

Vanessa walked after him. "There is nothing to understand. She's a possible drug addict; and you're condescending."

Banks was surprised at Vanessa's vehement judgment. "Well then, I guess condescending runs in the family!" Banks bit back.

Vanessa gasped. "What? I'm not condescending with Mike. He may be an ordinary private in the army, but I love him. I'm not looking to change him."

"Right! Why then have you not yet told mom that you're engaged to him?"

Whatever reply Vanessa had to that was interrupted by the sound of a chair screeching on the marbled floor. She and Banks traced the sound to the upper balcony where they saw Madam Bankole on her feet with her favorite china tea cup in her hand. They were both startled. Do walls have ears? From the look on their mother's face, it definitely did.

***

Lade froze at what Cindy just told her over the phone. The next moment, she was cool and calculating. She turned off the cooker and ran into the bedroom. Her eyes swept over the bed room trying to remember where she put her stash. There was an unopened bag of drugs somewhere - under the toilet sink. She ran into the toilet and reached under the sink to take out a dirty purse. She unzipped it and shook out the contents into the dry sink bowl. A Ziploc bag containing her stash of cocaine, an unmarked cup of tiny yellow pills and a rolled up newspaper page containing her left over Indian hemp fell in. She carried the drugs over to open the clean toilet bowl. She tore the Ziploc bag and emptied the white powder into the bowl. The Indian hemp went in next followed by the pills. She turned the flush knob, an empty feeling washing over her as she watched the drugs disappear down the drain. What a perfect waste, she thought. She took the empty pill cup, the torn bag and the newspaper leaf with her and left the toilet, coming back for a quick peek. The dirty purse was on top of the sink and she quickly went to retrieve it.

A paid informant in the agency usually warned Sting ahead of any plans to raid any of Sting's buildings and he in turn called them to clean out their closets. No warning had come this time.

In the kitchen, she found her lighter, walked out to her back porch to set the Ziploc bag and newspaper leaf on fire, holding them over the waste bin for the ashes to fall in. She could hear the frenzied commotion of neighbors running around to clean up while she waited to finish the incineration. She stared at the pill cup and wondered what to do with it. She went into the kitchen and began rinsing the cup while look around. Another thought stopped her. Cindy had brought something over. The smoking pipe was in the drawer of her dressing table. Lade almost panicked. She found three aluminum foil-wrapped rocks on her kitchen table and gasped, imagining what would have happened if her mind hadn't unblocked the memory of their presence. She grabbed them and ran into her bedroom. Straight to the drawer where she kept her smack pipe. She opened it and found even more - a tourniquet and syringes and more hemp. Why Sting hadn't warned them of this, she wondered. She swallowed large gulps of air to stifle the nauseating panic swelling within her. That was when she heard the inevitable banging on her bedroom door. The drugs would flush, she wasn't so sure about the syringe and tourniquet. The knocked banged again. She could only hope, for there was no time.