Chapter 10

She had picked a paper, handed over to her father who opened the paper to announce the name.

With bated breath Brian waited for the name to be pronounced.

He shut his eyes and his heart did likewise.

His knees were moving apart and his sniffing was as the snore of a speeding train.

He could hear the bass beat of his heart; heaven was crumbling while he read the lips of Mr. Fanny make the pronouncement;

“On this paper is Baron Rightman. So who’s Baron Rightman?” he asked yet further, his stare combing through the booing crowd.

Brian knew who it was but for the smiles on Ella’s face he didn’t know why.

Is she happy to be with another guy? He thought.

For the first time in his life, he saw himself orbiting in the middle of mocking planets as Baron ran to the podium to enjoy his offer.

On his way, Baron stopped by Brian and muttered, “A pick of love knows Baron. You left me at the front so be my spectator.”

How did she know Baron? Are they having a thing prior to me? A catalog of words dazed in his head. He watched on; Baron and Cicilia stood sharing smiles, hand-in-hand and walking back to a love-bird seat set aside for the game. They were already bonding, catching feelings, Baron’s lips moving and running like the urine of a new born baby, whispering stuff into her ears that left her blushing.

What the hell is he telling her now? Brian’s thought fought within his head.

“Ladies and gentle men I present to you the latest couple,” Mr. Fanny said, “Enjoy the rest of the night ladies and gentle men,” he disappeared from the podium and Brian had disappeared earlier out of the sight of anybody, curled up in a sofa by the edge, entertained by couples dancing to the soft tune of the flutists."

"Being entertained was a struggle; he had suddenly mastered that art of disappointment. A lot paced through his mind; are we having a thing? Are we in the same box? I could be fooling myself, weaning on an unbalanced feeling for a girl that doesn’t notice me, that sees nothing than a kid called Brian, even if she were to say what letters of alphabet stood for, she wouldn’t say B was for Brian. Show me the girl in this hood that doesn’t have a heart warmer? I am falling out of love.

Right then his hand nudged his flute of wine and it fell and dashed into a thousand pieces on the floor. He stooped to pick the shards of glass. As he did, it was as though he was gathering the broken part of his heart; he had not been visited with such emotional slash-and –burn in the shortest time of knowing Cicilia.

The party was winding to an end and guests were leaving than they came. Brian had this drag to go after Cicilia whom she perceived was in trouble – yes the hood at the moment was no soft pie to bite and the impossible crime hung around. Upon searching for Cicilia he bumped into his father.

“Oh dad I thought mom said you went to the golf,” he said hastily, eyes scavenging for her.

“Sorry to disappoint you. I know you don’t want me to be here, whipping boy,” he said and let a laugh.

“Come on-“

His dad cut in, “You look restless.”

Who wouldn’t be, “Cicilia look what you made me do.” he said in his head. “Not really just checking up some cake to scoop.”

“Naughty you, I hope you came in your car. I am leaving with mom.”

“God’s night, daddy!” he wished him “I am good.”

Brian started a search. He was everywhere for Ella, and Baron was out of sight. He followed his instinct to the pool, lobby and corridor. The search got on his nerves when he ran into some random lovers in the toilet, making love and moaning.

He was almost forced to start screaming her name.

Danger was lurking. He ran upstairs, into Ella’s room; that piece was ghostly. And her studio was as void as an elephant’s tusk.

The penthouse! Yes, the penthouse, his thought intuited. He heeded and pranced to the pent house; on his way were littered cloths and spilled wine.

“Ella!” he yelled and kicked down the door before him.

Baron was in the middle of squeezing out of his lingerie and Cicilia was stark naked, with legs carelessly thrown apart.

Worst days ahead.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Brian as he squatted to Ella, swirled to Baron and sent him a dazing punch on the face that left him staggering.

Quickly like a bat from hell, Baron picked up his clothes and ran away.

“Oh laughing doll” he exclaimed as he put his ears to her chest, only to perceive the exudate of wine in her breath.

Baron had gotten her drunk or what; he thought.

He hastened into the bathroom, turned on the shower and returned to lift her. She had no pounds until now he tried lifting her into the bath. She had difficulty breathing, with a running temperature.

“What did he do to you?” he asked her, tapping her on the chin.

She coughed furiously upon being showered and repeatedly sneezed.

“Ella, Ella,” Brian called, scared about the shower putting life into her or exacerbating the whole thing. A slight tap on the cheeks, her eyes rolled with the interest of closing back soon.

“I am the one, Brian, wakeup,” he assured her and tried focusing her face in the shower and she scowled, tossing her face in disapproval.

Next was a furious throw-up from his victim which arrived like ancient Chinese soup on his face. “Shit, shit, oh my God,” he lamented, cursed and ran his face in the shower.

It was no longer safe; he undressed himself and showered too. Later he washed Cicilia twice more, dressed her in her nightie and led her to bed. The offensive odor of alcohol still hung over his face. He returned to the shower washed himself and sprayed a heady perfume in her room.

Tap, tap tap: that was the footsteps of a walker close by. He wouldn’t want to be seen.

His eyes sensed for escape or hideout. Thought of the back door struck in his head right on time.

He used it and stuck behind it as breeze.

Through the pinhole he could see the walker; the walker opened the door;

“Uh oh, she’s asleep,” said the walker and turned off the lantern before shutting the door. The walker was Mrs. Fanny. Brian agreed with his thought it was now safe to part before he freed from his hideout and sneaked out through the rear window.