MARY GETS A CALL.....

Phone rings.


Mary frowned at the screen.
She didn't like private numbers. Anonymous callers were dangerous.
 This one time, a guy called her up, screamed, "Bitch!" then hung up.
That was the thing about Anonymous callers; they could get away with anything.
Usually she would've ignored the call, but it was a Sunday, she was just chilling in her room, and  Joe hadn't called. Which was odd because they'd had a movie date for 1.pm that day.



Phone stopped ringing.
She sighed and stared at the clock on her dresser, right next to the stack of books that were her final year project.
It was 3:56pm.
Maybe he was still pissed. She thought  as she fell back on her bed. She made a mental note to search for her school ID after a short nap.
Then again, she probably left it at the hotel the night before. Knowing Joe, he probably had it with him---along with some of her "special" panties.
She nibbled at her lower lip and suppressed a tiny moan.
Being away from him for even a day was torture
She felt terrible for saying some of the stuff she'd said the night before.

"Never disrespect your man," her mother would always say.
Mary let out another sigh. She had to make it up to him somehow. He was a good man. Sure, he worked hard and spent alot of time away from her, but he was good to her.
At least she wasn't dating students anymore.

Thank God for that!
She rolled her eyes and suppressed the urge to vomit.
The memory of her last relationship should remain just that---a memory.
Phone ringing again.
"Persistent little bugger ain't ya?" She muttered.
Once again, she let the chorus of her favourite Taylor swift song play out.
 She had no intention of answering the call.
After a while, it stopped again.
She stared at the ceiling, enjoying the silence of her room.
Yes, Joe was a good man. He'd made sure she lacked nothing. Everything thing from her flat to her car was all Joe's doing.
Now she felt super-terrible for the things she said.
She reached for her phone just as Taylor Swift started singing again.


Crap!
But this time, it wasn't a private number.
Infact, it was a number she didn't know.
Nothing on True caller.
She answered the call.
"Sister,no vex abeg," came a woman's voice. "I no know say my numba no show.....I no sabi set d phone."
Mary arched an eyebrow. This was clearly a wrong number. Why she didn't hang up she had no idea.
"Em...who's this please?"
"Sorri, I know say u no get my numba. No vex abeg. How u dey? How school?"
Mary's frown thickened. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"My name na Chika. D man wey u dey nack na ma husband."
Mary's heart stopped beating. She sprang up from the bed with the phone still pressed against her ear.
 Her cool room suddenly felt warmer.

"....em....who..who..?"
"Which one be 'who?-who?'...na owl u be?"
Her heart was beating again. This time at Jack-Rabbit pace.
"Please, madam....I don't---!"
" no b for Port harcourt you dey? Ya name no b Mary?"
"....yes but---?"
"D man you dey nack, him name nobi Joseph?....or na Joe u dey call am?"
There was static on the other end.
Mary barely heard it. Her mind kept on playing the first part of their conversation over and over. "....ma husband..."

Ofcourse, she knew Joe was married. She'd known for quite awhile. He claimed he'd married his wife for financial reasons. She was the daughter of a very wealthy rice merchant.
Joe was unemployed and broke at the time. He'd met her at a job interview.
It was one of her dad's many  companies and Chika was the head of the HR team.
Chika had taken one look at him, then Boom! They were in bed a week later. Being butt-ugly and in her late Thirties, Chika was desperate to settle down.

The affair carried on for a few more months till Chika got pregnant.
Joe was sucked in by promises of mad money if he married her. Considering his financial standing, he conceded.
Three years later, he was married, rich and miserable. He told Mary how unhappy he was. But he couldn't leave the marriage. His father-in-law was an extremely powerful man. More than once, Joe had been warned that if he left the marriage, he'd be "dealt" with.
And so he stayed.
But he wasn't happy.
Joe claimed his wife was an ugly uneducated tout with nostrils the size of oranges.  She was untidy, couldn't cook, farted in her sleep and considered Small Stout and Gulder standard daily dietary requirements.
He wanted out, but couldn't leave for fear of his life.
Chika didn't care whether he was faithful or not, as long as he "gave it to her" whenever she desired it.
How the hell did she get my number?
More static.
Mary fought back the urge to hang up. Somewhere in her head, she considered running.
Why?
She was Piss-scared.
Joe had told her how crazy his wife was.
Was she going to have her beaten up, molested or worse?
More static.
"Ello....?... I dey disturb you?"
"Madam...please....I think you have the wrong per--!"
"No be M.W. dem write for ya pant?"
Her legs went flaccid under her.
Actually, Chika had said "...Emu...Dor-Ba-Lu...." But Mary got the message.
"MY WHAT......???"


More static.
Sweat beads rolled down her neck.
"Abi you tink say I no know where una dey nack? But you sef how you  forget ya ID card? E no good make ashawo dey careless."
Mary found a spark of anger.
"I BEG YOUR PARDON! YOU CAN'T SPEAK TO ME LIKE---!"
"Abeg make I hear word. Before you make I forget wetin I call you for!"
Mary's spark of anger went out.
More static.
"Abeg where.....(static)...buy....this ya pant.....fine well-well..."
Mary stared at the device's damp screen with a mixture of confusion and fear.
Had she heard right?
"..(static)....network.....fuckup....you dey hear me?"
More static.
Mary was frozen solid with the phone to her ear. It was as if she were hypnotised by the voice on the phone.
"....I don find pant like dis....I no see..." Chika was saying. "...for U.S... I see pant wey name na 'Secret'....d pesin wey get am dey ansa Victoria.....(static)...but e dey enta yansh too much......abi na dere ma husband buy dis one?"
Mary gulped.


"....abeg...(static)....try hep me....(static)....d pant correct.....e dey enta ya yansh?"
For a reason she couldn't Fathom, Mary began to cry. Maybe it was the shame of being caught, maybe it was the way Chika was speaking to her. Whatever it was, it felt like her insides were clogging up with bile.

She felt so much shame.
She began to whimper.
What was she thinking sleeping with---?
"...if to say d pant size me sef I for wear am....wetin?....na cry you dey cry?....see me see trou---!"
Mary cut the call and continued crying.
She didn't even look up when Taylor Swift started playing again.