New turn...

Ojuwoye, Mushin.

"You've grown to be a tough man, Dare."

My coconut head uncle started. He was dressed in white Agbada, costly black shoes, a traditional cap, and lots of 24 carat gold chains drooping from his neck as though he was some mannequin. You know, it's pretty annoying when you have a lot of money but are dumb enough not to know what to do with it or how to WISELY spend it.

He was tall and lanky. He had this threatening aura, and his deep brown eyes enflamed his beardy face. He's 6"0, thick neck and long hands, wide palms. Enough of his annoying qualities.

"Hmm."

I made a deep threatening sound in my throttle but then my mom sent a warning signal with her well trained eyes. Wonder! African parents, especially Nigerians are so well skilled in working magic with their eyes and stares.

Just one stern stare at your child and he already would be crawling at your feet.

I got the message she was trying to put across but it seemed too late to amend as my uncle continued,

"And your mother, my sister, made it clear that you wouldn't come to my house even if I promised to give you the world. That she even had go to the mountains and pray, before you could be persuaded to meet me."

FUNNY. I was tempted to mock him but tamed the urge. Remember, my mother was there. Even though I'm 25 and fully grown, yet there was this lump of dread drooping or wounded around my consciousness. It's already a part of me. No matter how old I grow, don't be surprised, the dread will forever linger.

"But I don't know why you hate me that much. We haven't really met. The last time we met, you were just five. And twas after then that I got an invite to work with Ludevink in England. And since then, I've been busy as hell."

I scoffed,

"Too busy to even check up on your only sister. Even when she was at the point of death?"

I had tried enough not to say a thing but the rage of all what had happened to me recently and the trash he was saying at that moment, fueled each other. Hence the words.

He chuckled and put two of his right fingers to his thick beards which made a mound about his chin. He had no teddy.

I almost forgot that he had a golden staff in his left hand. I wonder what such man with such lovely posture needed a walking aid for. Probably his brain had been plagued by those crazy movies.

"Dare."

My mother cautioned but I rolled my eyes. Damn! I was beginning to have guts. I guess my present predicament had gotten the best of me. Probably why I couldn't make the best of my own choices. But as far as I was concerned, I was making sense. After all, the person in question was a coconut-head uncle.

"Let him be, sister. Let us be. That's what men are created for. To agree and disagree. You need to accept that he's no longer that 7 years old Dare whom you can order around. He's now a grown ass -- man. Yes, Dare. What else do you have to say. I know I'm worthy of being lashed, tell me."

I looked away from him. It raged me to think that he was trying and feigning to be the angel in that place.

While looking away, I caught the sight of the old and constant living room. Just three plastic chairs in the centre and an ill-painted table locking the chairs around. There was a television seated on a shelve with broken doors. The carpet on the floor was worn and the wall cracked. I wondered whose house was better, mine or my mom's. Well, the only difference was that, it's my mom's, but I rented mine. Plus, I don't really think that she's been haunted by a rat. Well, if she was, I can bet on my life that it could never be a rat as skillful and learned as mine.

The view of the ill-favored parlour was enough to sweep a stream of rage into my consciousness. I spewed,

"Look around. You, look around. What do you see?"

I watched him look around the parlour with a smile in his face. A smile seeped in those scrawny old face of his. Those haggard face maintained and treated by money. He was lucky to be rich. If he wasn't, and was poor. I wondered what those raggy face would look like now. If he had gone through what my mom had, I wondered what would had become of his lanky shape. Bless goodness he's older.

"You see? I'm certain that even your dog doesn't live in this kinda place let alone your gateman. But your only sister, baby sister, in whose care your parents left her, lives in this shithole. How rich you are!"

I stood up. I was already sick of being there. I wanted to stomp out but my mom yelled,

"Dare, you will sit down now!"

I grunted. Though I could walk out instantly, but then I remembered my mother's health. Shouting and worries would hurt her. I sat back down, eating him up with a fiery ogle. Tapping my flip-flops on the carpet. The costly flip-flops I bought 15k just to prove to him that I didn't need his money. That I don't wear rags. Neither does my lovely mother.

"Dare."

He started.

"You have every right to be mad at me. I should had been there for your mother, my sister. I know it has been very hard on her since your father died when you were five. And she had taken a care of you. Up to this level. Up to being a man."

He paused and continued,

"I know you would had nursed a lot of thoughts like many people would. Probably one of them was the fact that, perhaps I involved in money ritual to be rich. Which could be a reason one could ignore family. You might had thought so too."

"My son is a child of God. He wouldn't think that towards his uncle, no matter the circumstance."

I could hear my mom looking out for me. I wanted to scoff but holding her serious gaze, the feeling was displaced.

"But what does it really matter. Whether or not you think that of me. I've come here not to buy you or compel you against your will. I'm here to tell you that I already bought a house for you and your mom and Lekki. And to ask if you would like to work as a manager in one of the new companies I have in that environs."

He paused again,

"But of course you can choose whether or not to."

I looked away from him to my mother. I could see her eyes widened in anticipation of what I was about to say. I knew she was tied to me and would follow my choice even if twould hurt her. But I'm not ready to put her through another level of misery.

But on the contrary, I caught my uncle's gaze again. I hated to think that he wanted to buy us. He wanted to price us and buy our rage and ignore all what had happened. If we do concur, twould hurt my ego.

Now I was caught between the claws of pleasing my mom and hurting my ego. I knew I would crush one to sustain the other but then a thought sprouted... How about if I seat on the fence? Yes! The right thing to do.

I found my voice,

"Well, if I turn this down, it'll hurt my mom. But then, I hate to think that..."

"Dare!"

My mom cautioned again. Oops! I didn't know that I was thinking out that loud.

"Well, I don't need a job from you. I only need a little something..."

"Tell me."

He was anxious, I could tell. My mother on the other hand was like on the edge of the chair, literally and figuratively.

"I want to go to California. A one month stuff. I'll need you to pay for my lodge and feeding and flight and the rest. That's all I ask of you."

I could tell that my mother had so many things to say but she was skilled to hold her tongue. I love her so much.

My uncle,

"How about International Passport, do you have that already?!"

I nodded. Then he stood up.

"Very well then. As soon as you and your mom move into your new house, we can start with that process. That's my condition."

I sighed and nodded, then he headed for the door while my mom saw him out. She turned to me when I stood up,

"Wait there, Dare. I'll be back."

I knew what that meant. But what I didn't know was how to explain to her what I was going to California for.