“Well, what was I supposed to do?” I whined like a baby. “She was really getting on my nerves.”

Ed nodded. “I understand.”

“If you understand, then why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because I understand,” she repeated. “I was angry and upset as well and I understand that the spirit of sticking it to her took you over. When you started to lie, I couldn’t contradict you because we’d both look like idiots. At least now, you alone are the idiot.”

“Ed!”

“But bonegirl doesn’t know that yet,” she was quick to add.

“I still lied, Ed, and now I’m in a panic because I have no idea what to do!” I grabbed at my braids and slid my hands down to my cheeks, massaging them. “What am I going to do?”

“My sister,” Ed started. “You should be asking ‘what are we going to do’ because I am a part of this mess by association.” She looked up to the sky with a pleading face. “Dear Almighty, tell me why did I have to befriend a dumb girl like this one? And now I have to fix her mess like I always do!”

I rolled my eyes. “False, that last statement.” I grabbed a samosa and munched on it in frustration. “Will you help me or not?”

Her grey eyes lit up. “You mean I actually have a choice in this?”

I scowled at her and she lifted her palms in surrender.

“Okay, then let’s just think about this for a minute. One minute of silence, and we produce solutions,” Ed stated. With that, she placed her hand on her chin and her face twisted in contemplation.

But whichever way I thought about it, I didn’t have options. I wasn’t going to laugh off what I said to Poppy as a joke and have her taunt me for the rest of my life.

By the end of the brainstorm, Ed and I had come to a consensus on one solution – I’d have to live my lie.

*****

“Where am I supposed to get such a boy, Ed?” I asked as we walked on the cobbled street in town and towards my home.

The Town was not so busy. People were always inside their shops or buildings, some seated or standing outside, engaged in discussions. A few either strolled around, rode on their bicycles or travelled by horse-driven coach.

“Every boy I know likes Poppy. The ones who aren’t interested in her are adult men and I cannot go with an adult man as my date!”

Ed was busy counting her fingers as she looked at the sky. After a while, she shook her head with a desolate sigh. “It’s no good. Poppy is too popular in this town, and there’s not even that many people to consider in the first place. She’s won enough pageants to make her name famous. Even the few boys I know who’ve never seen her still like her.”

“And then there’s me,” I stated, begrudgingly, gesturing down myself. I was wearing a simple long light blue dress with short sleeves and ankle-height dark brown leather boots. I looked like a farm girl and didn’t have a lot of friends. I had acquaintances, but the only person my age I opened up to was Ed. “No way would anyone choose me over her. Even if they didn’t know her, they’d go running the minute they saw her and I’d be left dateless. Again.”

It hurt to be even remotely reminded about the past. Cyrus had come to stay with his uncle at LightHouse last summer. He and I became fast friends, since we were both sixteen and I knew his uncle as a tenant. We knew each other for about two months, and I liked him. I thought he liked me too but when I asked him to go to Establishment Day with me, he said he was going with Poppy –whom he’d met the day before.

It was the worst week of my life. Well, not exactly, since I had Ed with me. The Town considered us an odd pair; me with my black skin and coarse textured hair, her with her dressing style and big size. Yet we fit. Ed didn’t mind being a big gal, and I thought she was adorable, especially since she was shorter than me.

“Even if I do get a date, Poppy might just prance about and he’ll go with her. She works in the same way meaty aroma draws you out,” I pointed out, bitterness lacing my tone.

“One problem at a time,” Ed cooed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, let’s just focus on getting you a date, okay?”

I hadn’t even noticed I had stopped walking until Ed walked back and stood in front of me. Her face was as hard as stone and serious as a grave when she said, “You and me need to do our part in searching for the perfect date. What are the characteristics we are looking for?”

I shrugged. “Handsome?”

“Okay, but that’s dispensable.”

What?

“Uh...tall?” I smiled toothily.

“Okay, but also dispensable.” Ed exhaled. “We need important characteristics, not superfluous and close to impossible dreams.”

Those were important to me if I wanted to really stick it to Poppy.

I must have spaced out while imagining the physical attributes of my prospective date because Ed pinched my arm.

“Ow!” I yelped.

She disregarded my pain. “The most important characteristic is that he must not like Poppy. Everything else comes after. Got it?”

I grimaced, but nodded my head.

Ed punched her fist into her hand and narrowed her eyes at no one in particular. “Someone who doesn’t like Poppy is either someone aloof who doesn’t know her or someone who is aware of her and is still not interested.”

She spoke in a low, pensive tone, as though she was trying to solve a crime by finding a murder suspect. “It could be someone who probably keeps to himself. Someone whose existence we aren’t even aware of. Someone so unnoticeable, he’s like a shadow in the night.”

I tried to wrap my head around her statements. “If that person exists and he’s a shadow in the night, how will we be able to find him? It’s impossible.”

Ed turned her head and glared hard at me. “You are the one who made up the impossible lie, so you have to be prepared to do the impossible in order to make the impossible, possible,” she hissed.

I frowned and whimpered.

Ed patted me on the shoulder. “Suck it up, Nkwanzi. And give me my dish. I need to get back home.”

Lethargically, I took out the now empty porcelain dish from my satchel and handed it to her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

I nodded, still frowning, and she went on her way.

I usually worked at Madame Monica’s hair salon, but she didn’t need me in that day so I was free. She worked on all kinds of hair; whether soft, coarse and textured, curly or straight. She washed, styled and plaited but didn’t give haircuts. Since her hair was the same as mine, I learned a lot from her.

*****

I went home for lunch. I lived in a bungalow with my mother and younger brother Jeremiah.

“You’re late!” was the first thing Jerry said to me once I stepped into the sitting room, after taking off my shoes. He was lying in a sofa with his feet on the armrest.

“Get your feet off the armrest,” I demanded.

“Nye nye nye nye,” he mocked me.

I stomped over and with my hands, flung his legs down from the armrest.

He let out a sound in between a whine and a groan of protest but didn’t bring his legs back up. Instead he said, “Only oxes like you could have that much brute strength.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s oxen. And I’m only stronger than you because you’re ten years old.”

“Going on eleven!”

I ignored him and noticed the flower arrangement in the vase on the coffee table. They were fresh.

“Mr. Vincent brought them,” Jerry informed.

“He doesn’t need to do it everyday,” I mumbled.

Mr. Vincent was a gardener. He was a friend of mother’s, and helped with the home compound as well as LightHouse’s compound – for free. He was a nice man.

Jerry sat up. He leaned towards me and widened his caramel eyes, whispering, “I think he likes mother.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I immediately rubbished the idea, because I honestly didn’t want to think about it.

“What if mother likes him-”

“Shut up.” I pushed his face back and he dramatically fell back in the chair and started to writhe and groan like I’d broken him. “It’s none of your business so stay out of it and don’t involve me, okay?” I spoke up above his moaning.

Jerry kept mum but pulled his mouth into a pout. “You are a boring hag.”

I grabbed a pillow to hit him with, but stopped when my mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Lunch! Jerry, if your sister isn’t here yet, we’ll have to eat without-” She approached from the kitchen to the dining room carrying a dish and stopped when she saw me. She wore a checked apron over her light green dress, and her hair had been covered by a green cloth she wore as a headwrap.

Tossing the pillow aside, I put my hands on my hips and pretended to give her an accusing glare. “Eat without me?”

She gave me a nervous smile. “Eat without happiness, because what is happiness without you, Rose?”

I held back a smile. “Nice save.”

She chuckled. “Come to the dining table,” she beckoned as she placed the dish on the set table. Jerry and I followed.

My mother was a beautiful dark skinned woman, tall and slender except for her wide hips. I must have gotten my dark brown eyes and curvy body from her, but my complexion was a lighter tone – just like my father. Jerry looked more like my father even though he didn’t remember him. After all, he was just two years old when he died.

I thought about our father sometimes, and I wondered how often my mother thought about him. She was happy and at peace now, even though she’d been alone for eight years.

Then again, she wasn’t alone. She had me and Jerry. We were her family, and that’s all she needed, right?

******

Later that afternoon, mother sent me to the carpenter’s to remind him about the locks that needed fixing at the flat, and to confirm when he would do it.

I visited the plumber first about the leak in Mrs. Plumberry’s sink, and it was great that he would be able to have it fixed right away. From the plumber’s office, I went down to see the carpenter, Mr. Vaughn.

Richard Town wasn’t big or densely populated so it wasn’t too difficult to move around by foot. Of course it would be easier to move by coach or bicycles, but coaches cost money and women weren’t permitted to ride bicycles.

The latter law didn’t apply to my dear friend Ed, who had once got us into trouble with the authorities for doing it. I had been on the back seat of the bicycle and I hadn’t understood why I had to be arrested as well, but I was charged with ‘aiding and abetting the crime’. If it hadn’t been for Inspector Raphael, the two of us would have slept in the prison cell or been sentenced.

The sign on Mr. Vaughn’s shop window said OPEN, so I pushed the door and walked inside. The reception desk was by the door, to the left, but no one was available.

Mr. Vaughn was not only a carpenter, but a toy maker as well. Hence the shop had shelves against the walls in which settled different kinds of toys including those carved from wood and decorated.

There were animal wood carvings and tiny people carvings on some shelves, and in one corner of the room were stools he’d carved and furnished. My mother had one of his stools on the patio at home, and our coffee table had been made by him.

No one could carve quite like Mr. Vaughn.

I moved towards one of the shelves and a particular giraffe carving caught my eye. I had to crane my neck to be able to see it since it was high up. I raised my hand towards it, but had to stand on my toes to even reach the bracket it stood upon. With a little more effort, my fingers brushed the carving and I gasped as it toppled over towards me.

Except a hand grabbed it before it could jab me in the eye.

It was then that I was made aware of a presence behind me as the hand retreated. I turned my head and saw a dark blue shirt covering a slightly broad chest. I tipped my chin upwards and my eyes met the blue gaze of a boy I swear I had not seen before that evening.

He had pale white skin with a few freckles lined over his cheeks and nose, and dark as night hair with slight bangs falling over his eyes. His jaw was clean-shaven, his lips folded in like he was trying not to smile. This made a dimple in his left cheek visible, and my eyes were instinctively drawn to that tiny depression.

Because I loved dimples.

“S-sorry,” he said in a low hushed tone, stepping back and looking at the floor. “That was too close.”

I blinked in confusion. “Huh?” Then I noticed the carving in his hands. “Oh yes. I touched the carving without permission and it could have fallen down because of me.”

“No, I meant-” He gestured between him and me. “- I was too close to you. That must have been...” His eyes looked away from me once more and I noticed how some colour came to his cheeks. “...uncomfortable.”

Maybe it was the sun.

Instead of replying, I drank in his appearance. Tall; nearly a head taller since the top of my head came up to his chin, dressed in a long sleeved dark blue shirt tucked into black trousers, and black laced up boots. He was lean and looked young and boyish.

“You’re not Mr. Vaughn,” I said.

He glanced at me and shook his head.

I turned fully to face him. “Then...”

“I’m his son.”

His son?

“You?” I asked, surprised. “I thought he had two sons and you...well, I’ve never met you.”

He merely shrugged and fidgeted with the carving in his hands. “He has three sons.”

Uh-huh.  Mr. Vaughn had three sons and I hadn’t met one of them? How was that even possible? Had this one been in hiding or was he a child that showed up out of nowhere; that Mr. Vaughn only recently became aware of?

I decided not to ask.

“Well I am Mrs. Manzi Elizabeth’s daughter, Rose,” I introduced myself. “My mother owns the LightHouse flat in Town.”

He nodded. “I know.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You know my mother and her business?”

“I know you.”

To say I was surprised was an understatement, and it must have shown with my facial expression, because he went on to explain.

“I, uh...I have done some repairs with my father on LightHouse with you around, and I’ve...I’ve brought a stool to your home once.”

Wow.

I tried to think back. I couldn’t find the memory of LightHouse repairs with him in it, but I vaguely recalled a strange man in a black hood carrying a stool into our house. I had even brought him a glass of juice but I couldn’t remember his face because I had been too busy arguing at the top of my lungs with Ed and Jerry at that time – which was about two months ago.

“That was you in the hood?” I asked softly.

His features lit up, like he was glad I remembered him, and then nodded his head quickly.

“Wow, you have no presence,” I noted.

And just like that, dimness shrouded his face.

“No offense,” I swiftly added. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way...” I bit my lip, feeling a tad awful.

Me and my mouth.

“It’s alright. It isn’t a lie,” he said in his low tone, his eyes on the giraffe carving. I think his voice either had certain limits or he was naturally soft-spoken. “Not many people know me. They know my father and brothers because they are usually out there, directly handling the clients and sales while I’m...” He pointed towards a door in the back corner of the room. “Back there.”

There was a silence as I waited for him to elaborate what he would be doing ‘back there’.

He gave me a feeble smile. “Tinkering.”

“Uh...” I didn’t know what he meant by that.  Fixing things or taking a pee?

“The actual workspace is back there,” he explained.

I gasped and nodded in realisation. “Oh!”

Of course. He wouldn’t spend the whole day peeing now would he?

“Anyway, I came to see Mr. Vaughn about some locks that need replacing at LightHouse.” I decided to get back to business. “He’d said he would confirm by the end of today when to stop by.”

“Tomorrow.”

Hm?

“As in -” My brain wheels turned as I tried to make sense of the statement. “- I should come back tomorrow?”

“No.” He chuckled. “My father will pass by tomorrow. 9:00 am. That’s the confirmation.”

“Ah!” I let out an embarrassed laugh and noticed the look of amusement in his eyes. I slapped my forehead. “Silly me! Fascinating thing the brain is, isn’t it? Forgetting things one moment and remembering them the next, hm?”

Did I just quote Mrs. Plumberry? And out of context at that?

He blinked and knitted his brows in confusion, probably wondering what nonsense I was spouting. But still he smiled and said, “Indeed.”

He pitied me, definitely.

A moment of awkward silence passed, and I cleared my throat.

“I suppose I should get going then,” I said, swinging my arms back and forth for no particular reason.

His smile shrunk and he looked back at the giraffe carving, nodding his head. “Okay,” he murmured.

I turned and walked towards the door, but stopped and looked back to call to him. “Hey.”

He lifted his head in surprise.

“What’s your name, anyway?” I asked, genuinely curious.

His lips moved but no words came out, like he had trouble speaking. He rubbed his lips together and his shoulders rose and fell with the breath he took.

At last, he replied, “Callum.”

I beamed. “Nice to meet you, Callum.”

He smiled back. “You too, Rose.”

I waved at him. He lifted his hand to return it, but the carving slipped from his fingers and he had to struggle to catch it again before giving me a proper wave.

I chuckled at his clumsiness and walked out the door.

A/N
And here’s chapter two. Don’t forget to vote⭐ and share your thoughts in the comment section.