I CAN'T DIE BUT I CAN'T LIVE EITHER

Kabwe has been transformed from a ghost town into a sprawling metropolis by the status of Mulungushi University. This has been further augmented by the mushrooming of big shopping malls like Choppies, Kabwe Mall, name them. But what has catapulted Kabwe out of the shadows of humiliating poverty into the glorious light of a big thriving metropolitan city are Guest Houses.

    Out of need rather than curiosity I visited SAFE guest house in mine area to spend a night away from the merciless cold in the streets. A tall dark lady calling herself the manager took me to a room. The top bar on the door frame was so low that I actually bumped my forehead as we entered.

   Once inside the room, the manager proudly announced to me: “Sir, you pay K180 for this room, it is self-contained,” her tense smile clearly showing that the polite squirrel like face was just for business; keeping a job. Like a whirlwind she was gone-with my money.

     In a second, I studied my room. It boasted of a single bed pushed to the side leaving a little space for the door to the showers. The TV, a relic from the Kaunda age, was placed on a table squeezed near the pillow leaving no room even for a rat to squeeze a tail. The blankets had a semblance to the hand me downs sold at the bend down boutiques straddling the market place in down town. The buzz of mosquitoes completed the classification of the place, throwing it into the same category as Hitler’s dreaded concentration camp without the machine guns. It gave me a feeling of being in a place where my comfort was an anathema to the owner.

      Initially, I tried to abandon the place for a far more humane guesthouse. I approached the manager with the exuberance of a man pick pocketed by thugs at a bus stop.

    “Madam, can I have my money back?” I demanded extending my right hand with my palm spread out like a church bowl soliciting for alms.

     “Why sir,” she asked. “What is the problem?” Her surprised and innocent looking face with eyes widened like someone who had won a lottery clearly demonstrated a treasonable lack of understanding for the meaning of the word comfort.

    “I can’t sleep in such a place, it is awful,” I exploded taking a few steps towards her to encourage her to release my money a bit more quickly.

    “You just have to sleep here sir,” she hit me back with a defiant but resolute answer.

   “Why?” I howled violently. “You cannot force me, can you?” It was now my turn to be surprised.

   “I’m not forcing you to sleep here, but you just have to since you have paid for it,” the woman said as she started going to meet other customers. She was leaving me alone.

  “Madam before you go, take your key and please give me back my money, I’m leaving this room,” I declared in a determined manner.

   The woman tried to console me as she explained that once a receipt was issued there was no earthly reason good enough to allow a refund. She further explained that the place had CCTV cameras recording all customers occupying the rooms. Once a customer enters the room the information was relayed to the managers making a transaction reversal not only difficult but also impossible.

   “Please be fair to me, I may lose my job,” she pleaded, her moon shaped face crushed inside hopelessly trying to present a very honest broker.

     Out of sympathy for the wretched woman, I decided one night would not kill me. That is how I agreed to stay.

    Before sleeping, I felt I needed a haircut. The long singed hair itched badly probably due to the abundance of dry pieces of skin peeling off from my scalp. I left my room and headed for the nearest barber shop. I did not even reach the barber shop as intended. My eyes wondered too early in the wrong direction.

    Leaving my key at the reception, I walked towards the gate where my eyes drunk in the sight of a beautiful young woman. She was about 24 years, actually less than half my age, but her figure brutally struck me down like the butt end of a pistol. Before I knew it all my resolutions of ‘One man one woman for life' were shoved down a proverbial drain pipe. My heart missed its usual beat as my eyes stayed on this woman: my mind somersaulted as the adrenaline of teenage infatuation was pumped recklessly into the blood stream. The breaks, the instinctive fears that normally prevent a man from making an ass of himself had broken down. I was possessed by a powerful force which made me shred my usual dignified distance from women.

   ‘Excuse me madam, can I have a word with you? I plucked some courage.

   The woman turned to look at me. Her face revealed nothing, she did not smile, and neither did she scowl. When she was sure my speech was directed at her, she walked closer to me and shredded my nerves with a killer voice;

   “Yes sir, how may I help you?”

  ‘What is your name? I asked trying to sort out my thoughts for a more artistic attack.

   This time she scowled, studied me from head to toe in a deprecating manner. She put her left foot on a stool and started wiping her shoes with a sponge before arching her chin upwards to respond;

    “My name is Thelma.” She said the name with all the pride of a peacock as if it was for someone with royal blood.

   The scowl shook my confidence leaving my courage in tatters.

   ‘Thelma,” I started. “Can we have a drink and talk properly?”

   ‘I don’t drink beer. We can talk here as well as anywhere else. I don’t see any difference,” she said wiping out all my hopes.

     I could have pulled out but a look at her, especially the mouth re-energized me. Her mouth had big sexy lips making her so gorgeous that I convinced myself that no insult could squeeze out of those lips. Her eyes were the dainty type which will force any man to continue ogling out of curiosity if not entrapment. The face was deliciously chubby giving one the feeling that Oprah Winfred had gone back in age. Her step was the bounce type with the hips swinging like two pumpkins rubbing against each other. Her teeth -Oh! No! Forget the teeth; it is the gums that sent my blood boiling hundred degrees. The gums were darkened with an enchanting allure you don’t see every day around. Her talking grated my heart and grabbed it with both hands like a football in the goalkeeper’s gloved hands. She resembled an immensely beautiful movie star who was trained to dazzle the audience especially men. I was dazzled beyond myself.

   ‘Thelma, you are beautiful,” my heart said the words involuntarily.

   ‘Nothing special,” Thelma said this time with a smile."I have heard that countless times. Thanks though.’ Her voice was hard but the tone was tender.

   “I can imagine thousands of men literally begging you for a little chat, ha?” I said lacking all originality but already pandering to some jealousy, possessive instinct.

   “I don’t allow people liberties with me that easily,” she said.

   “Meaning you don’t socialize, right?”

   “I do, when in the right company,” Thelma said while dazzling me with her chewing.

   “What are you doing here in a guesthouse?”I was now groping about in the dark like a lost sheep.

   ‘Won’t you get to the point sir;’ she complained, “I don’t even know what this chat is all about and besides it is getting dark.” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks right between my eyes. I had wasted too much time on trivials, irrelevancies that cannot bring down even a drop of rain.

    “I wa..nt you to be m.y gi…girl,” I ventured. My tongue kept on sticking to the roof. My heart pounded against my chest like a marathon runner. My stomach rumbled inconveniently and…

    “Oh I see, the answer is no,” she flung my delicate heart to the ground and stamped on it. "I have given you a capital NO, anything else sir?”

   “I don’t take no for an answer madam," the violence with which she bounced me off created some degree of  toughness. Even though the fluttering butterflies in my stomach clearly showed that the game was a lost cause." Try another answer.”

   “I’m afraid you will have to take that answer today,” she was now swinging her delicious hips, pulling her frame off towards the red metallic gate. Going away from me. I had bounced .the woman had refused...she was now leaving me speechless like the statue of liberty.I had to act as a real man.

  “But maybe for interest sake, would you explain why you don’t want me madam?”I hurriedly swung round to block her way in a predatory manner men are known for.

  “You are not handsome.” She howled almost like someone reading from a script. “I am not looking forward to having ugly children with a man with big nostrils, simple looking eyes and a host of other undesirables.”

  “Is that so?”I was dumbfounded.

   “Yes. Look, in addition you are too short, unacceptably dark and unusually poor. I don’t want such traits in my children.”

  “That is childish thinking,” I protested. "You will have to do much better than that to get rid of me."

  The annoyance from the flow of abuse gave me angry hope. We haggled for almost one hour and can you believe it? Thelma broke down. She broke her neck like a withered flower and accepted my proposal. We walked hand in hand to the dining room where we sat down to eat Nshima like a couple that had known each other for many months. After the meal, I grabbed her hand and led the way to my room. Here events moved a lot faster.

  At the door to my room Thelma tripped and almost crashed to the floor. However, I grabbed her in time and steadied her back on her feet. In haste my hands gripped Thelma on her chest just below the breasts. As she stabilized my hands had no difficulty moving up a bit to cap the luscious cucumbers.

  Thelma had big cone shaped breasts with hard strawberry coloured nipples. Merely squeezing the breasts sent a thrilling sensation all over my body. I pulled her close smashing our two bodies to form a single body where all frontal body organs mapped.

  I must have lost consciousness because my recollection of events fails to explain how we landed on the bed. By now I was so relaxed. Only my tongue continued licking her gums, as my lips hungrily drunk from the salty lips.

    After some good time she left. Left me a vastly satisfied man...but just for a short while before my life tumbed out of order.

     A minute after I lost sight of Thelma's dark swirls of Brazilian hair; I felt a strange force taking complete possession. What have I done? How can I sleep with a woman I hardly know? Several questions buzzed in my brain. What if she is a demon, all out to crop souls for the devil?

   What if she is diseased? Has she not infected me with aids? I got some disinfectant to thoroughly clean myself hoping no dreaded virus had found a home in me. With pledges I vowed never to see Thelma again. Suddenly the fear of death replaced the love I had felt for her; I hated her with a strange implacable passion.

   However, she could not divine my feelings. For two months she called my number like someone in real love, but I refused to answer. I wrote her a message explaining that I was not in the habit of sticking to bitches that jump into bed the first time asked.

    "I did that because I trusted you...," was her sourly reply.

   "Why don't you trust the Devil in Hell as well,” I said selfishly. “Leave me alone." Finally she got the message and stopped calling.

    A week after Thelma stopped calling me, I dreamed of having a good time with her. That started the worst nightmare of my life. My heart took a severe hammering - bowing down to the overpowering desire for Thelma.

    I could not eat...food lost its appeal. "I can only eat with Thelma..," was my cry.

    I could not enjoy anything; reading novels, watching movies all lost their allure. Every moment I just wanted to see Thelma. Most times I cried like a baby for Thelma in my sleep.

    My wife left me. "Who is this demon called Thelma?" she complained bitterly to my relatives before leaving me. "She has stolen Mackay's soul."

    The school where I was employed as a science teacher fired me; my performance dropped. "Draw the picture of Thelma...hey stupid kids you can't even give me my beauty..," was my usual command to the pupils. The head was appalled.

     My whole life just turned inside out. I just wanted Thelma, the woman had stolen my soul she had strange powers. One day the craving for Thelma got out of hand. I was now running mad. At Shoprite I saw a beautiful woman and my heart leapt in full joy. I never realized what I was doing grabbing the woman and shouting endearments;"Oh! My beautiful Thelma, now I have found you...."

    The woman was not amused at all. Angrily she shook me off before a horde of people attacked me leaving me for the dead. They thought I was trying to steal from her. I was badly injured-a physical injury was now added to my emotional wounds. On a hospital bed every beautiful nurse was Thelma. Until all the nurses started avoiding my bed. They discharged me even before I had recovered."Send him to a psychiatrist, he is mad..," a young nurse twisted her nose in disgust.

    Worse things were to happen with the psychiatrist."Why don't you call her?" he suggested. My heart was ripped to pieces when I called her line.

   For a week she refused to answer my calls."Just continue calling..," the psychiatrist urged me."That is the only way we can solve this problem."

   One day she answered,” who is this?"I was so excited that my shaking hands dropped the phone and its screen broke into a thousand pieces.

   "Damn you and your stupid obssessions..," roared the young psychiatrist. "That is an expensive SAMSUNG GALAXY you have wrecked."

  “I am sorry! Sorry!” I said in sing song fashion.

  The young man forgave me and quickly he arranged another phone, a cheap Airtel promotion product.

   "Use this and please talk fast," he was so excited that he was getting results. I dialed the number and this time a man answered introducing himself as Thelma’s boyfriend.

   "Leave my girl alone or else..," he bawled on the other side. The joy of the possibility of meeting Thelma soon was replaced by the painful reality that she was actually light years away. My aching heart never missed a bit ,it made everything clear that the only woman it wanted was Thelma.The damn heart -did it know what it took to get this Thelma? The only thing the oval shaped organ knows best is issuing commands no matter how unreasonale.When will science reach a stage where man can amputate a troublesome heart? I couldn’t abandon Thelma; my heart would definitely riot and create all sorts of mayhem. Every fibre of my being wanted Thelma in its unbridled, involuntary spasms. My whole soul was imprisoned.

   I could not have Thelma; she did not want me and there was another man in her life who was ready to kill me. The man was not the real problem; her unwillingness was the greatest barrier. 

   What should I do before I start eating from the dustbins?’Just commit suicide,’ some voice advised.

I bought DOOM; a chemical most people use when issues this side of life become intolerable. That day I closed the door to the young psychiatrist and refused to talk to anybody. I was arranging for my departure from this earth. No not from this earth-from Thelma.I could not live with my heart crying for Thelma who was refusing to come back.

    I opened the bottle and poured the poison into a cup. Then I lifted the cup to my lips...I opened my mouth..my shaking hands started pouring. The terrible smell …the terrible sight …I could already see the terrible darkness coming to cover me. Just then my doctor poked his head through the window...

  “Patient, will you find Thelma in Hell when you die…?” What a stupid question packing real sense caressing my ears.What a time for such a question? Inconvenient but sensible. I die and leave the person I love back here,what logic does it make?. The DOOM is still on my tongue- should I spit it out or …what was the cry of Jesus on the cross?

   I am stuck completely..I can’t die, but I can’t live either.On this planet is there no middle country-something between life and death for those who can't be in either?

Thelma has strange powers…she is controlling my whole life..can't she just let me off?