SMOKE SCREEN

I had eclipsed Alfred’s feat for the night. Vanquished his every move with such precision and sleek rendering the result well beyond doubt. The tension was almost palpable. Mozart gracefully ringing out in my ear as I mellowed out, occasionally winking at my last plastic piece. Alfred was pale with disbelief baffled by proceedings. He had never lost a game of dominoes to me: Ever. Day’s event considered; I was a tad bit fortunate to do so. Sheer blind luck. But he didn’t need to know all that. I was beaming with confidence. No one was raiding my parade.

 “Woah, Nelly! Naayy! Get a grip there! It’s just one game. “Alfie deplores.

I clench my fist in victory.

“Be a sport and drink up! “I cackle already super blitzed myself.

All this with good reason.

I instinctively pat my jean's pockets as I walk away to the balcony in search for my pack of smokes. I shrug my shoulders. It had been a lousy day. And that’s just an understatement. I gently place a cigarette in my mouth with my shaking nicotine-stained fingers. I was unsteady. I struggle to flick the lighter completely high-strung on the events of the day.

 I could channel Michael Corleon from the Godfather puffing on a cloud of smoke and waving a zippo blurting out “I know it was you, Fredo! You broke my heart!

I wonder if that’s how she felt at the time.

It was pointless: Like inflating a balloon with farts. I slide down the wall utterly dejected with somber eyes. I cut a frustrated figure. Alfie approaches as I struggle to unfasten my tie in bewilderment, extending a drink towards me in his favored glass. I gawp splitting focus between the drink and his worried face.

“It’s the least I can do man. I let you win today! “He chuckles.

“Now run me through it one more time. What exactly happened here? “

Smoke snakes up from my cigarette as I clear my throat. My voice breaks as I recount it all.

“Remember we had a wild night yesterday, right?” I pause. It started off as a particularly sluggish morning. I was ideally groggy. I found it wacky judging by how meticulous I am with my routines. Heck, even my cab guy was tardy. Some way to report to work on the first day.

“I’m superseding all expectations! I gabble nodding my head and clapping sarcastically.

On a regular day, I could exemplify a “make belief “Wolf of Wall Street. Fancy me pregnant with pizzazz and a soaring appetite for the right kind of thrill. However, since my graduation, my days have compounded a humdrum existence. My relatives made the usual trip to Nairobi to commemorate my latest stepping stone. I was as bullish as a handful of graduates today with the job market proving a whirlwind. If only one could attach a graduation photo of themselves to their CV. I promise, I have the admiration of a war hero back here.

My degree in psychology made very little impact as I felt disillusioned and ridiculous. Suffice to say that my shrewdness was lacking not to mention my inflated ego proved a hurdle even after my mom pulled some strings to land me a job at her clinic. It was against policy at the time but let’s not dwell on that. As they say for lap dances, Not every day is Christmas but Santa’s lap is always ready.

My cellphone buzzes, startling me from my reverie. Mom had texted thrice expressing the usual concern with regard to my whereabouts. I ignored them all. Burying my face in my palms. Her persistence is unwavering. I live in a 4 bedroom duplex in Gigiri, where I party in style and enjoy tranquility whenever [that never happens].

How can I afford this? Again! My mother has everything to do with it. Heck with that kind of juice I’d be snorkeling around coral reefs taunting squids and jellyfish while sipping mojitos and Bermuda Aruba Ariba on the pearl grey virgin beaches.

 The phone dings once again as I stroll to the bathroom. My bladder was itching after I had chugged more than I could remember. I hurry back and reach for the phone seated on the edge of the bed.

“Where are you? The Richards are here! Onyango will surely not like this! My ass is on the line for you.”

My mom was somewhat a juggernaut.

Not the mahatma Gandhi or mother Teresa kind. No! Not even close.

She was one of those miniature dainty figures who pulled a delightful façade of benevolence while masking their domineering characters. Even her stakes were cooked stringy.

Now if that doesn’t worry you, I don’t know what else will.

She has skin made from elephant hide. Wonder what she’d think if I introduced my girlfriend now?

Does she bite on her nails when she’s nervous?

Is she a hippie?

Hope she doesn’t fart at the dinner table?

Naah! That’s a little harsh and it’s no way to speak about my mother, right? My old man says she was spellbound by his mellow voice but in my recent experiences in Nairobi, I’ve come to accept that women look for plenty more. Sorry pops! The Elvis voice and hatched face don’t quite cut it. Sauti sol might have a jam for that. But what do I know?

As you might have noticed already, we at the Njogu household spare no efforts to bolster each other’s spirits and augment torment. Don’t be too quick to judge.

I place my phone on the dresser and play some Miguel. Trying to offset the doom and gloom that would eventually beset me. I freshen up and look dapper in typical fashion, donning a silky linen khaki tan suit. I step out to meet my cab guy. I’m not allowed to be in possession of a car just yet?

At this point, I reckon you feel the same way as I do. A baby carried in a papoose.

“Let’s go make momma her millions! “I snort to the driver.

She had a clinic along Dennis Pritt Road in Kilimani. It was a psychiatric center for both adults and children. Unbeknownst to most, sub-rosa inspections of the joint didn’t uncover the huge lumpsum of money she embezzled while working for the Ministry of Health in the late 90s.It had kept the place running for nearly 20 years. Her doughty spirit fueled her every action and you wonder how upset she’d be if I married a bimbo.

Onyango meets me at the reception area upon arrival. He is the clinic’s manager. An astute, grey-haired man with deep wrinkles, a sheer representation of his turbulent life. He had a senile face with a short horse shoe moustache, creating the illusion of rigidness and earnestness. There was also a distinct scar on his right cheek. He got it while younger.

Who knows what that was about? I shake my head.

I waltzed into my office: Name on a shiny door plate. It was heavenly. Ushered in by a huge mahogany desk table with a leather sofa to the right. A fur carpet made the rounds in the room with a fireplace strategically facing the sofa. The office was compounded with bookshelves on either side of the desk area with several portraits of Mother Theresa, William Shakespeare and Marilyn Monroe in designated locations.

Oooh! I know. I’m just as confused as you are.

The aesthetic interior is complimented by black and fog white stripe curtains.

As I imbibe the surroundings, there’s a gentle knock on my door. The allure of a beauteous young lady grips my eyes. The aura emanating from her sharp, harmonious, lilac amber scent creates more mystery than I could imagine. I’m instantly swept away.

“The Richards are here for you Sir! “She echoes in a suave voice.

“I must have missed her while coming in. “I murmur. 

 I straighten out my shirt and rehearse my handshake.

I suck at this remember? Cut me some slack already.

The door opens as Mrs. Richard sashays into the room. She takes quick glances with seemingly sadistic intent. Her better half poses leaning against the doorframe. He too,harbors a smug look on his face. He watches as his wife dilly dallies around the office occasionally circling my desk area in a seemingly ritualistic and sneering fashion. I was desperately trying to suss out whatever the unwarranted fanfare was about.

I understand it’s your first day! Must be quite the step up for a young man your age? She remarks twirling her stylish puffy black hair.

Her voice was actually pretty sexy.

God, look at me lose the plot once again!! I stutter.

Why sure thing! I worked hard to get here you know. I earned it! [Bear with me]

“Of course, you did! “Richard interjects with his huge Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He stares at me with disdain as I struggle with the stare down.

Onyango resurfaces with a handful of white documents. Envelopes? I couldn’t make them out.

“Your mother asked me to specifically hand you these sir!” as he sidesteps Richard.

I draw closer to my seat extending my arms, reaching for the documents. There’s a sudden hush in the room. I noticed Onyango’s hands were shaky and he was awfully nervous. Not wanting to attract attention, I reach for my desk drawer in a bid to locate a pen. I uncover a photo of what appears to be my mother tied to a chair, hand bound and her mouth wrapped with duct tape. She was in distress. A piece of paper plastered to her forehead with the words “Do as they say!! “

Limitless silence plunges the room as Alfie plagues me for answers.

“Jesus Christ bro!...... Dude?... “He exclaims.

I look away as I rub my burned-out cigarette on my lips in typical Thomas Shelby fashion.