Thou Shall Not Eat

CW: Language

DISCLAIMER: The author of this fine piece of art is in no way responsible for you cracking your ribs, please laugh responsibly.

A wise, traditional, random comrade I met way back on the dusty streets of… what’s the name of the damn town again? Anyway in his shabby, greasy and smelly garments, wasting away by the musty roadside, he mumbled something a street urchin was not supposed to even fathom- at least according to my urban boy intellect. He had his dirty little collection tin by his side, a few somber coins strewn across what seemed like a vast unused space. So I dropped in to treat him a few more coins, cheer the brother up a little. He gazed at me for a long moment then said, “Son, whenever you’ve eaten and had your fill, your neural activity basically slows down as all the brain power shifts to the belly because that is where the heavy work is taking place. In the process you literally become stupid.”

Well, I hopped out of there wondering where all that was coming from, dude I just wanted to do some charity and feel good about myself, so what the…

That evening as I scuttled through Koinange Street in a hurry to catch the SGR shuttle train in the bustling dusk rush hour, I casually decided to test his theory. So I swung by Fergy’s, grabbed a couple of sandwiches, waffles and burgers then slithered through the throngs milling all over the sidewalk. Holding my experimental dinner packs tight, I endeavored to make my way to the subway station. A gang of cloud clusters soaring high in the gray sky appeared to have something cooking up their wet sleeves, so I hastened my pace to escape the daunting surprise rains that occur quite frequently around the city center these days. Either the Urban Heat Island crap was a buzz killer or the city folks needed a word with the weatherman.

Finally I hit the train station with a couple of minutes to spare. The train was here, the doors were locked, and I was hungry- was always hungry. So as I waited impatiently, I grabbed a cold seat by the side of the railway tracks and fished out a hot burger then started on my food science experiment right away. I was so damn glad I didn’t need a lab with a couple of burettes either. After a couple of powerful bites I noticed the smothering eyes of the stunning girl sitting next to me. A couple of impromptu thoughts pinged through my slacking mind. ‘Sorry babe, hunger’s an enemy of progress…’ Nah, that’s too lame. ‘Okay, look here sweetie. When a man feels hungry he tends to…’ Too long, too awkward and too…everything else that’s not fun. ‘Do you know my Aunt Lizy, she used to bake me cakes bigger than…’ Oh great, I was beginning to sound stupid, wasn’t I? Well I thought of something intelligent to add because this pauper’s theory about food making someone stupid was not just absurd, weird and illogical, it was also… also… and I just realized the food in my mouth was keeping my mind occupied enough, I simply could not think of another adjective. Damn it pauper guy!

“Hi, I am Max,” I began awkwardly with my mouth full, cheeks bulging out as the sound of food squelching under my teeth disturbed my ears. I swallowed hard, cleared my throat annoyingly then flashed a fake grin on my cold face. “Max, Senior Engineer at Max.co, I am not sure if you’ve heard of us but we are located just around the corner, in the near future.” Well, I used to think I was funny, hell my wife thought I was funny. This girl though, craning her long limber neck, gazed indignantly past me like I wasn’t even there. She then grabbed her pochette and whooshed past my stupid ass like a full bus past a terminal. Foiled miserably, I looked again and the doors were open. ‘See she was just in a hurry to go and feed her lazy cat, you’re cool bro.’ my brain gave me a thumbs-up. I smiled lightly at this bantering idea then stopped midway when I realized it could be the stupidity in play again. At this point I couldn’t tell whether it was the bellyful of wheat products I had stuffed down my sore throat doing this or these were normal events of yet another frigid Tuesday evening at the subway station. So I wiped my slimy mouth with the back of my hand, then picked myself up lazily and made for the shuttle train.

A few minutes on top of the hour, enroute to my place, the city buzz was deadened by the dimly lit subway. I was nervous. Most renowned scientists usually test their theories on themselves. Talk of Benjamin Franklin; brother got zapped by a supernal force trying to prove a point. An ancient anecdote had it that Newton had one enormous mango smack him on the bald pate of his head so he could define gravity. I was no different, just a little more local, a bit smaller and maybe historically insignificant. I was just a pseudo-scientist trying to prove or more aptly disapprove some random guy’s idea. And on that note I swung my eyes down to my hand, I was holding the last half of the waffles, with some nasty front-to-back bite marks. I had never missed a seat before, this momentous evening I had. So I had a waffle pack held tight in one of my hands, my tough denim kitbag dangling with one strap over my back and the other hand clutching the smooth rails above my head. I had stopped minding the eyes licking my face from every angle. ‘It’s ‘bout time y’all started minding yo’ damn business... niggas.’ another pidgin idea darted through my brain again, this time more pronounced than before. Well, this was turning out to be one hell of a ride.

By the time I was frantically fumbling with the keys to my apartment I was tired, dull and couldn’t help that itty-bitty feeling lingering at the back of my mind that I was becoming stupid. Why did I even decide to try this out anyway? It was a random guy’s thought, irrelevant, unsupported by any data source I knew. Still I had decided to take it on. Maybe it was a test, designed facetiously to trap my mind in a willy-nilly whirlpool and drive me crazy. Maybe I was stupid to take the dare; or maybe- just maybe, that guy was stupid as hell and I was growing stupid alongside him by doing some illogical stuff he suggested to me. I wondered what my wife would say when she…

“Did someone catch a stroke on the way home?” and that was Mia, my wife for the past thirteen, fourteen- maybe fifteen weeks. We were married long before the rings came in. Apparently I had unlocked the door and just stood rooted there like a scarecrow.

“Hi there, you look hot today. I hope your husband’s not around.” I cheered up. That was our usual cozy greetings. She gave me a big hug, a light dramatic peck on the left cheek and made my tie- she always did that every time I left and when I came in.

“No, he showed up earlier all scruffy and absent-minded, looking like Embarambamba, so I kicked his skinny ass out.” She was funny that way; it was one of the thousand reasons why I married her. I grinned as I handed her the remainder of the junk food I’d bought stupidly. I took off my two-year-old faded coat and handed it to her as well. To the pile I added my tie, my faded pair of socks, my old cufflinks and a mint- her present for being a good wife. Smiling, because I had an idea what she was thinking, I lounged with exhaustion on the settee we had brought from her dad’s last summer.

“Embara-who…? Wish I knew that guy.” I said resignedly. She faked a frown as she took the mess I had brought with me and made her graceful way to the closet with sure measured steps. I knew that guy, she knew I did. Her grimace wasn’t umbrageous, it was how she appreciated that a joke I had made with her in the eye of it was a good one- so I thought. What if she had noticed something strange about me and was pretending she didn’t? What if I had actually turned stupid and I was now a disgusting dude to my darling wife?

Something heavy, fluffy and soft landed without warning onto my laps. I pulled out of my brain and checked; it was just Mia.

“You smell like a male goat,” she started, wrapping her soft arms around my tense neck. “I like it, means you actually did some back-breaking gig. Unless you were… you weren’t running from the cops again, were you?” She pulled back, her arms still all over me, her white luscious eyes searching mine.

“You know that was an isolated incident honey. I won’t do that again, I mean unless I have to.” That was me being genuine. She loved me for being straight with her- about most of the things.

She got up and poured me a cup of hot, steaming black tea. I couldn’t help but notice the alluring curves and toothsome backside on display in those fitting yoga pants. Sometimes I scratched my brain, wondering how I became so rich. Owning such divine assets was no joke brother.

“June was here today, she was with that tall, dark and tiresome boy from across the street. What was his name again?” She said as she brewed the tea.

“I forgot his sad name, but I hope that idiot ain’t trying to make no babies with my little sister.” I squawked seriously. Mia broke out laughing, her voice musical. She had a fit of the giggles for a few heartbeats.

“You are trying to do exactly that with someone’s sister, cut that brother a slack. And you should trust your sister to take care of herself.” She was the voice of reason in the house; I was the voice of anger, memes, jest and recently stupidity might have crawled its way onto the list.

“I trust her; it’s that leery nigga I don’t trust. His sad face gives me creeps; he looks like Judas’ older brother, always having something fishy up his... Jonas! That was the name I was looking for, Jonas Iscariot!” I exclaimed loudly, throwing my arms up triumphantly. Mia chuckled even louder and more heartily. She loved it when I went wild; apparently the animal at my core thrilled her.

“What did you eat today you son of Adija?” She finally asked after she had got a hold of herself, a never-ending smile settling squarely across her symmetrical arresting face.

“I can’t remember, was it the muffins at lunch or the scrambled eggs at Ivy’s?” I realized her sharp, cutting glare fixed on me.

“Ivy, my seventy-one-year old History teacher.” I hauled myself frantically out of the hole I had dug inadvertently. She smiled cordially then fished something from the baseboard below the table. It was an envelope, cheap, refurbished and had the smell of bad news. She quietly handed it to me and waited patiently, the tick of the wall clock coming into earshot for the first time.

“He’s raising the rent again!” I snapped.

“Yeah, effective from next month. Wait, is that next week?” Mia helped a little, snarling in jest.

“I should have let that dude fall off the balcony that night.” I uttered to myself.

“Amen to that brother.” She made light of it.

“And on that note sister we are moving tomorrow, huh?” I said, forcing a smile as I rose to go punch something in the pantry. Sister did not answer. She actually didn’t speak for a better part of the evening. After a while I started wondering if this would have been my reaction if I hadn’t met my guy back there.

Later in the night as I got into bed, Mia was buried in it already, half-asleep. A recurring slap of cold air beat at my bare chest, breeding chills all over me. I slipped effortlessly under the covers, savouring the cozy warmth in there and wound my arm around her supple neck. Brushing a soft kiss across her dimpled cheek, I decided to tell her.

“ Honey, I may have taken a dare from some guy and I have no idea why, maybe I just wanted to live a little.” I started, unsure of how to frame it. “Do you think someone turns stupid after eating to their fill?” There I had said it, now I could die in peace.

I looked again and she was snoring. A light smile touched my lips as I resignedly fell back onto my pillow. I tried simulating how she would have answered that. ‘Yeah, you ate up a whole truck of junk food and that’s why you looked sheepish tonight.’ She’d say then turn around and pull all the covers to herself. ‘Dude you were absolutely stupid this evening, no debate about that.’ That or maybe something like; ‘Hell no, we eat because it is a necessity and maybe a luxury, why don’t you grab a couple of my pancakes tomorrow and drop by your guy, watch him munch them down then report back to me how stupid he looks, huh?’

Well, I still didn’t have an answer- to any of the queries I had asked myself that day. I still didn’t know why I had taken the guy’s dare, I didn’t know if he was somehow right and I didn’t know if that girl back at the station liked my little joke. I was, however, dead certain of one thing- this angelic beauty moulded out of the finest porcelain clay heaven could afford loved me for real. It didn’t matter if I ate myself stupid, that would be a constant in any time, any place. So I slept with the idea of paying my good friend a visit in the morning and asking how he likes Mia’s pancakes.