Strangers and Roads

The water trickles down the window, and the urge to wipe at it furiously overcomes you. Grandma would call the rain a sign of impending danger. Why else, would the rain be pouring in the middle of harmattan season? 

You had checked the forecast before. You were sure it was as predicted. Temperature as low as 9 °C , with a promise of harsh sun in the afternoon, and very low humidity. 

You curl into yourself and into the window as the person beside you sneezes. At least he has the decency to use a handkerchief. You shake your head before you realize he's staring. You look away sharply, and he asks that you forgive the weather, and his body system. 

An attempt at humor. You refuse to dwell on it and give him attention, so you just nod. 

You stare out the window, watching the trees and the road whirr past as the drive goes on. The bus you're on is the quietest you've been on. Everyone to themselves, most already dozing off. 

You want to check your phone, send your quirky younger sister Emmanuella a message. 

But the man beside you, obsessed with blowing his nose much to your discomfort, is seated too close to you. 

He could read the message. Or view the contents of your bag.

 Either way, as you stare at him, smiling at you when he notices your attention; you decide, that you're going to hold on tight to your bag. 

Uyo is only an hour away anyway. 

***

The rusty seats at the bus stop beckon to you. Seated for a five hour journey in one place has left your legs cramped, but you would rather sit and stretch your legs than stand. Your travelling bag is slung around your shoulder, and your handbag in your right hand. 

You lift your arms up as you press your phone against your ear, dialling Emanuella's number again. 

She picks up on the second ring. 

"Vicky! " She squeals."Whats up? "

"Ella. I've been calling. "

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I... "

"Have you arrived yet? Should I come get you? Where are you now? "

"So many questions, " you say, sparing a glance at the throng of people who move to sit beside you. A lady walks forward, intent on taking the seat you moved away from while speaking. You move backwards so the back of your knees hit the rusty chair. 

"Yes I'm here. I just arrived some minutes ago. "

"Eyy! "

"I'm not coming home straight though. I have to see Aunty first."

"Oh," she says, "Okay, okay. I hope you brought something for me? "

"Yes, but keep food oh. I'm starving. "

"Only because I love you. "

"Back at you. "

"Just say I love you too. "

"Ella. "

"Vicky." 

"Goodbye. "

She laughs. "See you." 

You shift your eyes again when someone passes where you stand. It's the man who sat beside you at the bus. He gives you a smile. You wonder, are there times where he doesn't smile? 

A taxi appears just as you consider seating on the chair you're hovering over. The taxi driver shouts : 

"Nwaniba! Nwaniba! "

You head over to the front seat but someone beats you to it. You groan as you realize as you made a run for the shotgun, two people have already slid in the backseat. You consider going back to wait for the next taxi, until you realise that someone is beckoning to you. 

"Babe! I'm here". 

It's him again, the stranger from your bus. His hand is on the seat beside him, and he's waving at you. It hits you then, the pretence. You smile as the man who intended to get in backs away and you jump in instead.

Your bag tumbles and as you get in, and he shifts to make more room. You close the door before turning to face him. 

"Um.. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says, beaming. 

" You could have chosen to call me something else,you know. "

His lips curve upwards. "I don't know your name. "

"Well. I just think baby is too common. "

He gives you another of his smiles, and the bag hanging from your shoulder is tugged .

"Can I carry that for you? "

You stare at him, confused. 

"No no", he laughs,patting his lap." I'll just keep it here. "

The lady beside him glances at you before looking away, facing the window instead. 

Alright, you concede. There's no way he can run away with it, not with everyone in the car. 

He holds the bag as you place the bag on his lap. You roll your shoulders, sighing as you lean backwards. 

"Tired? "

You turn to face him, your head against the leather seat. "Very. "

"Trips do that to you. Especially on these roads.. "

"Tell me about it", you say, spotting a mole on his cheek. It's black, and seems alien on his fair face. 

"You do a lot of traveling then? "You ask, suddenly curious to watch the smile that stretches his face as you speak. 

"Yes I do" , he answers. 

The car swerves a bit and you jerk towards the car door. 

"Ah!. "

"Sorry oh," the driver says, before moving onto a straight lane. 

"Are you okay? " The stranger asks, peering down at you. 

"Yes. "You hold your hand bag closer to yourself, gripping your phone tightly. 

"Sorry. "

You try a nervous laugh." It's not your fault. "

"Well it could be. "

"How ?"

"If I maybe overlooked a project to repair this road ,I think that would make me guilty. "

''I may have left Uyo for a while but I'm very sure I know the governors face." 

He laughs. "Of course I'm not the governor. "

"Hmm. His son then? "

The sound of his rich laugh sends zings from his leg pressed to yours. 

"No miss. I'm not a government official, and definitely not a relative to anyone in power. "

"Vi, "you say, surprising yourself. 

"Vi?" His bushy eyebrows raise. 

"My name is Vi. "

He smiles again." Nice to meet you Vi. I am an architect. "

"Should I call you Architect? "

The smile he gives is the widest since you met him.

"If you wish. Baby is fine too, but I would much rather prefer you call me Nnamdi. "

He stretches his hand out, long fingernails on hands that looked designed for art. You forget how you've always hated shaking hands,ignore the fact that the hand had probably spent more time with his nose . You drop your phone on your laps, taking his hand in yours. 

"Nnamdi it is, then. "