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Home 5 FICTION 5 #Fiction: WHAT IF……. – by @JayCax and six others

#Fiction: WHAT IF……. – by @JayCax and six others

#Fiction: WHAT IF…….

 

Now I do not know if I should pick the call… Maybe I should pick the call. That’s the only way my “treachery”, if it can be called that, would not be discovered. However, how do I pick a call on a phone that is not mine? The thoughts were swimming around in my head. I stood there looking at the phone, transfixed. Look what this Power Holding Company of Nigeria has caused!

 

I woke up this morning a very happy individual. I set my alarm for 4:30am. I needed to make breakfast and pack Valerie’s things for her first day at the crèche. I got out of bed and rushed to the kitchen to boil bathing water with the electric kettle. Clifford was still asleep with our Valerie on his chest. They looked beautiful together. He slept in his boxers. The cover I’d thrown across his body sometime in the middle of the night had been pushed off with gentle kicks. His chest was a sight to behold: a blend of soft muscles and sparse soft curly hairs. The curly hairs were doing a tango with Valerie’s matching hair. I would have paid to be allowed to stand beside them staring for a bit longer. Unfortunately, wishes are not horses. Beggars always walk with outstretched arms; led or alone.

 

It was supposed to be my first day at work. I woke up pretty early to ensure that I wouldn’t be late. I already felt guilty that I had been at home for all of three months, being paid my full salary in exchange for the chore of staring into Valerie’s almond eyes. Call it a warped perception of my right to maternity leave. I think it is a dividend of being a workaholic. Being “idle” had never appealed to me. Valerie was a handful but with Cliff’s assistance, I always had more time on my hands than I could handle. I was sorely tempted to even pick up tatting.

 

I rushed out of the room and made corned beef and mayonnaise sandwiches for Cliff and me. Before I get crucified for not eating healthy, it was on brown wheat bread; zero fat. It was when I was putting back the remains of the bread, corned beef and mayonnaise that PHCN struck. The blackout was greeted by a hiss from me, which was an understatement of my ire. Groping around like a blind man in the pitch blackness of our two-bedroom flat, I had to find my way back to our bedroom to look for Cliff’s Nokia X2, in order to engage the assistance of the torch for the continuation of my activities.

 

I am sure you are wondering why I didn’t just go to put on the generator. I can’t put it on. The kick is spoilt. I don’t know how to pull it, to run the manual starter. Well, it is either that or I am too lazy or totally lacking in the requisite energy to make it come on. Anyway, after extensive groping and a few run-ins with pieces of furniture that I could have sworn were out to get me, I finally found the phone tucked under the bed, right at the edge where Cliff usually puts it. Thanking God for creatures of habit, I made my way back to the kitchen to fetch my boiled water. I didn’t think it made much sense rousing Cliff to put on the generator. He was the one I passed Valerie to after feeding her less than two hours before because I didn’t want to go to the office with bags under my eyes. He had worked hard and they did paint a pretty picture together…

 

In a few minutes, I was in the bathroom. Considering the fact that I wasn’t due to resume till 9am, I decided to treat myself to some beauty routines. Of course, it was foolhardy, given the source of my lighting, which could not be hanged. I however still managed to do some cleansing, scrubbing and tweezing. Having done all these, and needing to do the “water” part of my ablution, innovation descended upon me and I propped the phone on the window sill.

 

As soon as I dried off the water, since I didn’t want to finish off the phone by getting it wet, I picked it from the window sill. That was when I noticed that in all my meanderings, I had pressed the keypad of the phone and somehow opened a text message.

 

“Happy New Year, honeystick”

 

I was confused. I kissed Cliff into the New Year. I didn’t send him a message wishing him a happy new year. Why would anyone call him honeystick? Stick has sexual connotations, doesn’t it? I was reeling. I decided to check the sender. The number was strange and there was no name anywhere in the text. I went to dry off my body.

 

As I reached for my body cream, it occurred to me that I just had to know the sender. So, I went back under the bed to fetch Cliff’s BlackBerry. I dialed the number expecting DSTV or Plumber; which I heard are the tricks men use to hide lovers’ numbers. Trust a Bold 5 any day. Just as I pressed the call button, the phone hung. The number wasn’t stored on the phone and all my frantic pressing of the end button didn’t yield the desired results. The call was finally ended but guess what? The I-know-your-stick-has-got-honey person called back! Why did I get curious?

 

I am @JayCax on twitter.

 

Below are writers who have taken the story from where I stopped.

 

***********************************************************************

DEBO ADEJUGBE…

 

What if he is cheating on me?

 

I trembled and the now-you-are-in-trouble feeling coursed through my body. I had been so curious I didn’t think about the repercussions of being proved right or wrong, I forgot about the I-know-your-stick-has-got-honey person for a while. I had to invent something to tell Cliff while staring at the missed call notification.

 

While this dilemma shattered my sanity, the I-know-your-stick-has-got-honey number called back, Cliff moved and snored gently, I hurriedly silenced the phone and tiptoed to the kitchen.

 

“Hello?” asked a sweet lady’s voice at the other end. My heart skipped a few beats as I pressed the end button. I was angry and sad. I felt miserable, and betrayed by Cliff. So I had been right all along! The soothing and calm voice added to my desperation.

 

I was still contemplating my next move when SHE called again. I had a plan to shout it out when I picked up, but caution appealed to my better side as she started speaking.

 

“Are you there?” – after a brief silence – “Anyway, I saw your missed call. I’m calling back as your number is unknown to …..” I didn’t wait for her to conclude the sentence before pressing the red button again. I’d ruined my morning with careless suspicion.

 

“What have I done?!” I exclaimed without thinking.

 

Cliff stood by the kitchen door looking disappointingly at me; the phone was glued to my hand and my whole marriage flashed before my eyes in a flurry of images.

 

How long had he been standing there?

 

 

I am still @deboadejugbe, get on twitter, follow me and feel the love.

 

****************************************************

 

TOPE OLOWU…

 

“Lord have mercy” I exclaimed softly under my breath. I read it again and no, I’m not imagining things. It did say honeystick. A million and one meanings flashed in my brain but only one stuck. Some girl calling MY Cliff honeystick!!! No wonder he laughs to himself while looking through his phone. When I ask him why, he says, “Oh it’s twitter”.

He’s always going on about how interesting and fun twitter is; encouraging me to join. I bet this is one of the dividends of his being so active on twitter. A rational part of me is saying but he doesn’t lock his phone. If he has anything to hide he would have a password on it. Hmmm!!! My friend warned me that I’m too trusting; all men are the same including my Dad jare.

What shall I do? Shall I confront him about it? Shall I just pretend I know nothing and keep a tab on him? Or shall I ask my friend for advice? Ha Ronke!!! She will definitely say I told you so. I jumped in fright as I heard Valerie whimper…….

 

I am @TopeOlowu on twitter.

 

***********************************************************************

 

OLUSEGUN DADA…

 

I didn’t know whether to pick the call or not. Thousands of conspiracy theories raced through my mind. What if it was a wrong number, Cliff was bound to find out and that will mean trouble. What if it was one of his buddies?

 

“Honeystick” doesn’t sound like something friends used on each other except it was some sort of nickname or Cliff is gay. What if Cliff was cheating on me? I tried to shudder off the thought but it stuck to my mind anyway. The call ended and I had mixed feelings. Didn’t know whether to be happy or be sad. Happy that I may just save myself the embarrassment of going on a wild goose chase. Sad because I didn’t know if Cliff was cheating on me.

Just when I was about resigning myself to fate, The I-know-your-stick-has-got-honey person called again. Now I didn’t care. I just acted on impulse and picked the call and glued my ears to the phone waiting for the caller to say something incriminating or anything at all. I heard a female voice and I felt blood rush into my face.

 

She said; “Hello Oyin, Sewa Adetutu here. Compliments of the season, I just got flew in for the holidays and got your number from Lafe”

 

The phone dropped out of my hands. It was a wrong number and now I have to explain to Cliff.

 

I am @DOlusegun on twitter

 

******************************************************************

 

AYO SOGUNRO…

 

Earlier, a few minutes to midnight, in another part of geographical space, a thickset man wearing a heavy scowl and an even heavier jacket, stood carefully by the window of a building in the gloomier parts of Ikoyi. He was waiting to carry out a mission.  The said mission had begun earlier in the year as a series of calculated events and these events were now set to enter another, deadlier phase.

 

His mission was simple in theory: send a specified text message to a specified number at 12am.The task, however, was subject to a series of technical obstacles and human error. Murphy’s Law. Anything could go wrong: network disturbances, battery failure, even a wrong number and the mission could fall apart. The message, drafted and defined, had to be sent precisely midnight.

 

The clock struck the midnight hour. In the distance, fireworks and the distinct din of celebration confirmed the arrival of the New Year. The man depressed the send confirmation button: “Happy New Year, honeystick” and the deed was done.

 

But as he slipped the phone into his pocket, a strange worry tugged at his instincts. Murphy’s Law. Anxious dread caused by the possibility of a wrong number—a “1” instead of “7”, or maybe the wrong phone prefix. He had to confirm. Quickly. Midnight sweat sprang through to his forehead as he reached to retrieve the phone. And then, the man stopped suddenly, as the brand new phone number began to ring out in the night. The phone was never meant to ring…

 

Get even with @ayosogunro on twitter

 

********************************************************************************

 

OMOTOLA OKUNLOLA…

 

Steve loved his wife. A lot. He was also bisexual and not proud about it. Once, after hours of awesome sex, he told his wife about his life at the all-boys secondary school he attended. Being gay was the in-thing. He would never understand why he told her and she could never forget the fact that her husband’s stick, her own treasured stick, had once been stuck somewhere inside another being whose own stick hung useless between his thighs. She had become very suspicious of his male buddies after that day. The only person she trusted was Cliff, his married friend.

 

Steve had always admired his friend Cliff. Not because Cliff had more money, a happy family or a better job. Cliff was a man totally at ease with himself. He knew who he was and what he wanted. Cliff was telling him about the plans he had made to celebrate the new year with his family. Sometimes man makes decisions that are neither premeditated, reasonable, nor even defendable. Steve took one of such decisions – He decided to spend new year eve with his family instead of the partner he usually hooked up with at the gay club he frequented. He definitely couldn’t risk calling the dude with his number so he requested for Cliff’s phone. Cliff obliged him. 8 minutes later, the initial date had been cancelled. Steve deleted the number from Cliff’s phone.

 

Ade was flying in the air. Okay, not him, his emotions. Steve had called! When he gave Steve his number to call in case of emergencies, it was an invitation; to up the ante of their relationship. Their routine was to meet at the club twice in a week and enjoy each other. No promises, no commitments, no communication outside the club. He had wanted more for some time but Steve wasn’t interested. Now he had Steve’s number. Though he was angry that Steve had cancelled their date, the number was worth the disappointment. He picked his phone and typed

 

“Happy New Year, honeystick”

 

He sent it to Steve’s no.

I am @tlatifah on twitter

 

***********************************************************************

 

SAGAY AGBALAYA…

 

About 10 years ago at Unilag, Cliff was having a side-talk with Deji, his closest friend in the class, when Prof. Adegboro noticed him. They were discussing a candy named Honeystick, which Deji’s uncle brought from Ghana.

 

“You nincompoop! You have the audacity to distract my class? Come out here!” The Prof. ordered Cliif.

 

“Tell me the last thing I said before you rudely distracted my class”

 

Cliff started to say something but the whole class was in hysterics; laughing uncontrollably. He was confused. Prof. was more confused. He was brought out of his mystery by the eyes of Amaka who was seated in the front rows. Amaka’s eyes were on his groin, the zipper was down. That was when Cliff remembered he wasn’t wearing his boxers!

 

It was the most embarrassing moment of his life. The only good thing was that Amaka, being a “collector” of endowed organs, had a feel of it by the end of that week. Deji eventually coined a nickname for Cliff – ‘Mr. Honeystick’ – because their discussion about the candy actually got Amaka laid.

 

Deji sent Cliff a message from a new line on New Year day, waiting for Cliff’s response but none came. The last time he referred to him as Mr. Honeystick was at their graduation.

 

I am @SagaySagay on twitter

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20 comments

  1. Hahahaha………oh my! This is so cool………getting diff scenarios……nice! My favourite gotta be @ayosogunro then @tlatifa…….looool gosh can’t stop lafn……really cool! Me likey!

  2. Just read through again………well written guys……..and debo’s ‘how long had he been standing there’ end…….I love!

    More of this guys.

  3. Beautiful! Love d varieties. N d endings matched the personalities of those I ve come to know.

  4. Brilliant minds at work… Great combo!

  5. So fascinating and exciting story, u are all no doubt seasoned writers, wanna be able to do better than u guys, u r role models in the modern blogging world. Gbasibe!

  6. Ayo sogunro I expected u to take it from an entirely different end and u did…thumbs up!… Sagay u did nt disappoint our kind also… Nice work better dan I anticipated

  7. I decided to write my own ending too..
    ———————————————–

    I placed the blackberry to my ears, my heart pounding, a million thoughts coursing through my head; has this bastard been cheating on me? But we’ve been together every minute throughout the Christmas break apart from when he said he was going to BarEnclave, a new hangout where he gets to meet some friends from twitter and watch some soccer games over drinks with the boys. What if he’d been using that time to see someone else and was just texting me the scores of the games which he got from goal.com or some other site? Could he have started a new relationship when I went to be with my mom before our baby was born? What if all those gifts he bought me were actually to appease HIS conscience? Men! What if…
    ‘Hello, sweets’.
    A female voice, slightly husky, brought me back to earth. She even called my husband ‘Sweets’! I had to clench my teeth some more to keep from saying anything. So Cliff hadn’t meant a word of the vow we had taken in front of all those people in church on our wedding day? We had written our own vows, both of us having been blessed with gifts of poetry, and had added them to the regular vows because Cliff had said the regular vows did not express enough our commitment to each other. Had I been fooled?
    ‘Hello, dear. You’re not saying anything, or you sleep-dialled my number? Hahaha. Its Chisom. If you’re calling this line it means you got my SMS. I’m in town for the new year… Let me save your airtime joor. I’ll call you back later in the day when you’re awake’
    I couldn’t hold it any longer.
    ‘Who is your ‘dear’? And who are you, calling my husband your ‘dear’? Listen, you better…’
    ‘Hey, our wife!’ The voice said cheerily. Now I was livid with anger.
    ‘Who the hell are you? How dare you…’ Then I heard footsteps behind me and turned. Cliff was standing close to me with Valerie in his arms. I would have made the blackberry to have serious contact with his head if not for my baby he was carrying. He could fall and drop her.
    ‘What’s the matter, darl?’
    ‘Who is Chisom you low-life, lying, cheating bastard?’ I asked, hands shaking. I let the device drop on the cold, hard tiles.
    As he bent to pick the blackberry up I grabbed my baby and shoved him out of the way. Seconds later he was on his feet behind me trying to explain. But I was taking none of that. You tolerate it now, you tolerate it forever.
    ‘Baby, hear me out please. Chisom is Laura’s Igbo name. Laura, my cousin.’
    That was when it hit me.
    The voice had sounded familiar but my internal rage wouldn’t let me recognise it. Laura, his cousin, was going to be my bridesmaid until my sister showed up unexpectedly from the U.S and bullied everybody out of the way. Laura calls everybody ‘darling’ or ‘honey’ or whatever endearing name she felt like. She was so carefree you took her serious at your own peril. And I’ve just insulted my husband because of that.

    I can’t take back my words.

    How do I make amends?

    Oh God!

    Please drop a comment or let’s reason together on twitter. I’m @CollinsUma

  8. Don’t know what to say,……….. you guys are good. And @CollinsUma lovely piece with just limited time. Nice 1

  9. @Collins…here is another twist. Thumbs up bro!

  10. Thanks guys!

  11. This collabo is sure a WOW. Ayosogunro the king of ‘end it’

  12. Love the perspectives. It gives credence to the fact that things are not necessarily always the way they seem.I also noticed,the men mostly decided to go for the “he wasn’t cheating,it was all a honest coincidence angle”While the ladies were mostly interested in nailing him.Thumbs up guys,I’m proud to know such amazing writers.

  13. WHAT IF….
    I pressed the ‘silent’ button on the phone so that the ringing will not wake Cliff and valerie. I put Cliff’s phone down on my dressing table, and tried to ignore the flashing light on it screen as it rang in silent. My mind was in a state of chaos, as different thoughts raced past like formula 1 racecars. I couldn’t hold on to a single thought …honeystick …honeystick …honey …stick …stick …I don’t even call my Cliff honeystick? I was relieved when the flashing light of the phone screen stopped.
    I had to get to the bottom of this. Just then PHCN decided to restore the light, which was quite unusual. I took that as a good sign that God was in support of what I was about to do. I picked up my phone from the bedside stool on my side of the bed, and dial the unknown number. It said the line was busy, just then Cliff’s blackberry rang again. The I-know-your-stick-has-got-honey person called again. I was furious as I hit the silent button.
    I patiently waited for the ringing to stop as I watched my husband and my baby on the bed through the dressing mirror in front of me. The smile on Valerie’s face was a replica of Clifford’s facial expression. But what if I was overreacting? Clifford doesn’t look like the type that would cheat! But what do they look like? What if it was a man at the other end of the line? Does that mean my Clifford was gay, bisexual or messed up down below? What if it was a woman at the other end of the line? Was I prepared for what I would find out? As the flashing light stopped, I quickly dialed the number again on my phone.
    The call was answered on the third ring. I steeled myself for whatever will happen next. What I heard on the phone shattered my world. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and saw a drop of tears make it way across my cheek, over my lips and end it journey as a tiny splash on my dressing table. The phone dropped from my hand.
    The crashing sound of my dropped phone woke Cliff as I saw him sit up in bed. He placed the baby on my side of the bed using my pillow as support.
    ‘What was that?’ He asked. I ignored him because Valerie started crying. She must have been uncomfortable with the change in her sleeping position. I turned and picked her up from the bed. I held her close and wondered how my latest discovery will affect her future.
    Clifford stood by the bed with a pillow in his hand. ‘Did you see my phones…’ He never finished his question. I don’t know if it was the sight of the phones on my dressing table that stopped him; or if it was the words I wrote with my red lipstick on the mirror “HONEYSTICK”

  14. What if ? Creativity at work ”Honeystick”. I am on twitter @victorvosseun

  15. Lovely piece! I’m tempted to write my own conclusion sef…

  16. Bravo!bravo!!bravo!!! Brilliant piece frm ?? favourites on twitter,You guys are the best nothing but the best. U all will never run out of knowledges ??and ideas,More blessing.

  17. This is BOOOOOOOOM!!! Rocks bigly. Different endings, all playing out different scenarios. Good work people, you all rock!

  18. Interesting work of fiction..love d team work too,hard to tell its being written by more dan one writer..got me glued on I must say,Weldone guys!

  19. Agboola Sulaiman

    What a ‘bad’ combination! Nice work, guys!

  20. be careful not to mess with the balance of things because…everything is not what it seems

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