Nasiche applied red lipstick over her swollen lips. She smiled as a throbbing pain pulsated through them. She replayed “TLC’s unpretty” track on her phone as she drew the eye pencil over her puffy eyes. She smiled once again at the mirror. The white of her eyes barely visible. They matched her red lipstick. Perfect. She thought to herself.
Someone unlocked the gate. She glanced at her watch. It was 5:38 pm. Her husband was home. He always arrived on time. She could hear his familiar heavy footsteps walking through the bungalow compound. It was always quiet in this neck of the woods. She counted his footsteps before he got to the house…9…10…11. He opened the door. She stood up immediately and adjusted her skirt. She tried to control her shallow breathing that was now evident. She shut her eyes momentarily before heading to the living room. She wanted to meet him on the corridor. Hug and kiss him and take off his coat. She was late. The heavy footsteps concluded their journey in the kitchen.
He turned on the kettle and made coffee for both of them. Nasiche sat down in the living room. Tension in her thighs. 1.. 2.. stir…1…stir. She was at it again counting away how many teaspoons he used. For no reason at all. His coffee was always good just the way she liked it. She noticed some red roses on the coffee table. She was afraid to ask…
“These are for you.” Sitonik, her husband, spoke. He read her inquisitive mind.
He stretched out his tired arms and gave them to Nasiche.
“Thanks,” she responded timidly.
He slumped back into his seat sipping his coffee, his Adam’s apple dancing conspicuously at every gulp of beverage. He still had his boots on. Never in a hurry to take them off. Her chest tightened. A familiar feeling crawled through her skin. She stared at his boots grinned and looked away. Nasiche bought him army boots for his birthday one year ago. She thought he would love her more but he loved his boots more. They gave him a new dose of masculine juice. Nasiche regretted it. He was a mechanical engineer at the tea factory plantation and it increased a spring in his step.
She sipped her coffee gingerly. Her lips hurt like hell. Sitonik stared at her as she struggled. He said nothing. He went to the kitchen and came back with a straw. “Here you’ll need this.” She was halfway through and politely declined his offer. But he insisted.
“I went all the way to the kitchen…” His words had an inkling of a threat. A foreboding. Nasiche took the straw and continued with her drink. Sitonik returned to his seat and took out his phone scrolling through it. “What did the Doctor say?” He queried his wife.
“It should be okay. The jaw that is.” Nasiche replied with her gaze fixed on the floor.
“Aah very well.” Sitonik responded with satisfaction in his voice.
He took off his boots and placed them aside just in time for their three-year-old son to play his favourite boot game. “Dad boot!” he called out playfully as he tried to slip into his father’s shoes. He stumbled to the ground. And his father laughed at him.
“Doesn’t he look cute, Nasiche?”
“Ya he does…babaa be careful you’ll hurt yourself,” his mum called out with a concerned voice.
It was approaching dusk. Nasiche excused herself to go prepare supper for the family. The Father-son bonding continued for about an hour and then silence. The only audible sound being the sizzling and steaming of dishes on the cooker. Nasiche chopped away onions only to recognize heavy footsteps approaching her from the living room. Sitonik had put on his boots.
“Uhmm dear… supper is almost ready. Are you heading somewhere?”
“Nasiche, you stepped out of the house today…” Sitonik stated in a matter-of-fact way. His tone was terse.
She stopped cutting onions and held her breath. Her Pulse raced,
“Ya…I had to have my jaw checked,” her voice betraying her unease.
“Nasiche…” Sitonik snarled.
She looked up and stared at the wall in front of her. Traumatic images of Sitonik’s boot stuck on her neck flashed through her mind. She lost count on how many times her world darkened as she lay sprawled on the floor. She could taste the sole of his shoe. As those ugly boots tore through her body and soul. Leaving her unconscious and bleeding and her helpless son screaming in horror as he tagged at his fathers’ trouser. She cursed the day. She opened her wallet and her heart to buy those boots, but even more she cursed the day she met this monster.
Tears welled up under her bruised eyes. Her lips trembled. “This time Nasiche…this time,” she mumbled under her breath. She continued cutting onions. Her face turned resolute and cold. Holding the kitchen knife tighter in her grasp as Sitonik marched towards her.
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Read – Birds That Sing Too Loudly – A Short Story by Valerie Tendai Chatindo – Zimbabwe
