Caged

Caged, a short story by LJ Kundananji

Your name may be Grace, or Ruth, or Nancy. You feel caged in by those who love you. You are bursting to break free, but it seems like that is never going to happen. This story is for you.

Lion man was the nick name given to the retired military commander, Mr. Mphamvu. The reason for this sobriquet was that he had the ferocity and strength of a full grown lion. His fearsome nature was known throughout the whole town, and thus a dreadful fear of him lay upon all who knew him like a dense, dark cloud. Like a lion, he was capable of devouring his opponents and shredding them apart. Anyone who was unfortunate enough to step on his toes, he pounced upon and beat down in the most dastardly manner. Being a huge man, with large square jaws and a large torso with meaty muscles, he was capable of beating up the whole world. Thus was his reputation.

By the most puzzling and unfair occurrence, fierce, dreadful men like Mr. Mphamvu just happen to have the most beautiful of daughters. Mr. Mphamvu had three daughters, no son. These he guarded jealously, like the pupil of his eye. Any boy who drew nigh he dealt with in the severest of ways. Thus, no boy or man who respected his life dared to get near Mr. Mphamvu’s daughters. He personally drove them to and from school and paid certain men to go undercover as janitors, pupils or even teachers to keep an eye on them. Thus, 24/7, Mr. Mphamvu had an eye on his daughters.

Of course, there are always a few diehards who were willing to risk their lives. Their fatal propensities are utterly understandable because, as I said, Mr. Mphamvu’s girls were the most beautiful in town. There is especially one case I remember: that of Big Trevor. Big Trevor was the toughest guy at my school. He was a tall lad with a large, bulky frame. He frequented the gym every day after classes and was able to maintain the look of one of the body builders one would only see on television. He was on the school basketball team, and, not surprisingly, he was the star player, the captain. I am sure you now know where the ‘Big’ came from. Thus, in his on right, he had all that was needed to woo any girl into his arms, even the dreaded Mphamvu girls.

To our shock, he started to get too friendly with the girls, especially Wabwino, the oldest and most beautiful of the three girls. He did this in full view of Mr. Mphamvu’s spies, and did not even seem to care about the consequences. What was most appalling about this foolish affair was that Wabwino, along with her sisters, Tracy and Esther, starting responding to Big Trevor’s advances. They purred merrily when, at break time, he bought them chocolate, drinks and all those dainty things that girls fancy.  Indeed, even at his worst, Big Trevor was dashing, and we would understand why these three beauties would seemingly melt before him. But we were annoyed by the fact that they knew what was going to happen to Big Trevor, and did not turn the poor boy down while there was still time. It finally got to us that they did enjoy the company of the opposite sex and thus clung on to it for as long as they possibly could.

Reeking of conceited confidence, one afternoon after classes, Big Trevor was standing in front of Mr. Mphamvu’s huge, monstrous gate with a bouquet of extravagant flowers in his hands. This, standing with a bouquet of flowers in front of Mr. Mphamvu’s gate, I would classify as one of the most foolish acts in the history of my town. I simply don’t know what happened to the boy that caused him to do so suicidal a thing. But I reckon it is this thing they call love. When it grips them, I hear, it causes people to lose their sanity. So, there he was, standing in front of that two metre high gate, staring into the camera and pushing at the button with a silly smile. Mr. Mphamvu had a powerful security system, the most powerful in town. The gate, as I may already have implied, was two metre high, with sharp metal spikes atop. The house was fenced off by a huge wall about the same height as the gate. On its own, this wall was impossible to climb. Its surface was smooth and oily. Every morning, big, hefty men were seen shining it to make it as slippery as possible, so that not even the most ferocious of geckos could creep on it. However, let us assume that some diehard managed to climb the wall and reach the top. There he would have to contend with the wires that carried a fatal amount of electricity. One of my friends tells me that he once saw an owl seated on those wires. The odd thing about the owl, he said, was that it just sat there like it were a statue and looked quite black. It did not move, just glared at the world with its large, round, haunting eyes. When he took a closer look, he saw smoke coming off the thing. That was when it dawned on him—the wretched thing had been cooked!

Cameras were dotted all along the wall, and there was one at each top end corner of the gate.  And just at the top of the button of the intercom system that Big Trevor was furiously pressing, there was a camera too. In fact, it was impossible for a fly to fly past without Mr. Mphamvu knowing so.

“What do you want?” came Mr. Mphamvu’s menacing voice through the speaker.

“I have a delivery for Wabwino,” Big Trevor said, waving the flowers in front of the camera.

“Are you serious?” Mr. Mphamvu asked, his voice full of shock and disbelief.

“Yes, sir.”

“My friend,” there was a snort, “you are too young to die. Just beat it before I come down there and snuff the life out of your little body.”

“Sir,” Big Trevor said with a chuckle, “I don’t think your camera is functioning properly, but if it is, I am certain you can see that I have no little body.”

He lifted his arm to show his large bicep.

“Pshaw!” Mr. Mphamvu sneered. “This is your last warning son. Leave before you regret having been born. I know you have been hanging around my girls of late. For your own good, leave them alone.”

“Sir,” Big Trevor stubbornly persisted. “I know you are overly protective of your daughters. But you and I both know that you are not going to marry them yourself. Sooner or later you have to let them go. You might as well start that process of letting go today.”

“Oh? You seriously said that?”

“Yes sir,” he smirked all over his face. At this point, I reckon, he probably thought himself a hero.

There was a long silence at the other end. Then finally, Mr. Mphamvu’s voice came, with that characteristic element of giving in, saying:

 “Okay, you have asked for it.”

At that exact moment, the automated gate slowly slid open. Big Trevor’s confidence instantly melted away like an ice cube placed in the hot summer sun when he laid his eyes upon the largest dogs he had ever seen. What happened next was too ghastly and violent that I feel obliged to spare you the details, but what I can tell you is that the boy’s clothes were torn to shreds and he sustained cuts and wounds so deep that they had to be sewn at the hospital where he spent a fortnight recovering. After that incident, Big Trevor was transformed: he was now a mellow fellow and never messed around with the Mphamvu girls again. His huge scars served as a grim reminder to him, and the rest of us, never, under whatever circumstances, to mess with the most beautiful girls in town.

One day, during break time, my friends and I were seating under the soothing shade of a jacaranda tree, watching the three girls play net ball with the other girls. That was the best we could ever do—watching them from a safe distance.

“Those girls are really beautiful,” My friend, Isaac, said with a dreamy expression on his face.

“Yeah…they are obviously the most beautiful girls on the planet.” My other friend, Emmanuel, said, sucking furiously at his water bottle.

“Forget about ‘em, guys,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Remember what happened to Big Trevor?”

“But I can’t help it still,” Isaac breathed, “to think about how nice it would be to have any one of them in my arms.”

“Especially Wabwino,” Emmanuel whispered, hugging his water bottle as though this gesture in itself would turn it into Wabwino.

“You’re just making yourselves ill,” I said almost in annoyance. “You aren’t gonna have any of ‘em. So just forget it!”

“But you know that some guys will have them one day,” Isaac persisted, “do you not wish you could be that guy who gets Wabwino?”

“Nah.” I barked.

“Are you sure, Charlie? You do not even dream about it even a bit?”

“Nay,” I lied.

“Well, then, you are strange man,” Emmanuel sneered. “because every guy dreams of it.”

“You have rightly said it’s a dream. Dreams ne’er come, true, do they?”

“Sometimes they do.” Emmanuel insisted.

“No they don’t.”

“Whatever.”

 My friends gave up trying to convince me and lay back on the grass, staring above at the beautiful, purple blossoms of the jacaranda tree with dreamy eyes, and I knew that they were dreaming of Wabwino.

***

Ten years passed. We completed high school and some of us went to college and some of us got jobs. I was one of the lucky few who got a job. You may think slightly of the job though, because it was not one of those fancy white collar office jobs. I worked in the stores room of a bottling company, and my job was packing large crates of bottles onto and off delivery trucks. It was a hard job and I got paid only enough to have three square meals and pay the rent on my apartment—a small, miserable abode among a dozen others in a large block. My apartment consisted of only two rooms—a bathroom and another room, which room served a threefold purpose: it was a seating room, a kitchen and a bedroom.

You may think I was extremely miserable with this meager life. But, surprisingly, I was quite contented with its simplicity. There was nothing much to worry about save showing up for work at six and carrying out my normal duties. At noon, I would skitter down the road to my home for lunch, which usually consisted of a large peanut butter sandwich and a cup of cold cocoa, and then return promptly to work. My day ended at six in the evening, at which time I would return home, dragging my legs along, tired like a cheetah which had just sprinted a thousand yards.  Upon reaching home, I would take a long, cold bath (I had no hot water or such conveniences), cook myself some supper and flop onto my bed like a bag of potatoes into a long sleep that perfectly resembles death. So my life was, and I was quite merry with it.

I would have preferred that my life continue this way, but of course, the one annoying thing about life is that it always changes. And my life did change, but in a very interesting, simultaneously frightening, manner.

I still remember that day. No one forgets the day that alters his life and hence his destiny. To me, it was just like any other normal working day. I showed up at the factory at six in the morning along with the rest of my fellow workmates, and waited for Daniel, the one in charge of the store rooms, to open up. Daniel was a mean little man with a dirty mouth and shifty red eyes. He loved pushing us around and driving us to work like we were donkeys. But ironically, we had got used to it and found it rather soothing. If the bugger never showed up for work for one reason or another, which reasons were always flimsy, we felt that emptiness, that void. Yes, Daniel was a necessary part of our lives, and whenever he was not around, things at the factory were dismal and depressing.

“Come on! Ye rascals! Today’s a busy day, no time for lazing around!” Daniel bawled out as we slowly trudged inside.

“Another day,” my workmate and friend, George grunted with a miserable expression about him, “another day o’ suff’ring.”

“Aye yeah,” I agreed with a slight smile, eying Daniel from the corner of my eyes. “Boss kinda looks happy today.”

“Happy, does he?” George said indifferently, “He’s got nothing much to worry ’bout, but ordering us ’round. He’s a mean little boy, Daniel.”

“Call him mean, but he gets the job done, he does.”

“Yeah he does.”

“You gotta be mean to do his job.”

“But little Danny goes too far sometimes.”

“I’d agree, but—”

“Charlie! Stop talking and get down to work. Lazy bones!” it was Daniel. I nodded with a knowing smile and grabbed a broom.

It was around eight when George came with some surprising news. There was a wild look on his face.

“Mate,” he said in a whisper, shaking from excitement. “Mate, you gotta see this.”

“See what?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Julie, that boring receptionist by the front desk—she’s gone!”

“Gone! What you mean she’s a gone?”

“She’s been replaced by another.”

“Oh?” I wondered why he was so worked up by this occurrence. “Happens man.”

“Yes—but the new receptionist,” he paused to catch his breath, “she is like the most beautiful girl I have ever seen!”

“Oh?” I was interested. “Beautiful you say?”

“Yes—the most beautiful girl you’ve e’er seen!”

Suddenly I stiffened, my eyes widening as an intense nostalgia hit me. There were only three females who could arouse such fatal, overriding excitement in a man.

“I gotta see her,” I said determinedly, a shudder running down my frame.

“Of course you gotta see her,” he thrust his hand upon my shoulder, his long bony finger digging into my skin. “You just gotta see her.”

After making sure that Daniel had not seen us, we sneaked off to the door that directly opened to the front office where the receptionist sat. With a wildly thumping heart, I turned the handle and slowly pushed it open. When it had opened only wide enough, I instantly saw a woman with very long, curly hair. She was talking to a customer, her back turned to us.

“Seen her yet?” George asked with a palpitating heart. He was squeezing against the wall next to me, staring furiously around to ensure that Daniel was not about.

“No’ yet,” I said in a whisper. “Her back’s turned this way.”

“Dash it!” George hissed. “There’s only one thing to do, then.”

“What’s that?” the question was barely out of my mouth when I heard a loud tap on the door. He had hit against it with his bottle opener. The woman instantly spun and stared in our direction. Her white, penetrative eyes stared straight into my face. The door was sufficiently open for her to see almost the whole of me. A curious look spread across her beautiful countenance. She gave a knowing smile and nodded at me. She slowly turned and continued her conversation with the customer.

I slowly closed the door. I inhaled deeply after realizing that I had forgotten to do so during the whole time that she had stared at me.  My frame rattled heavily  as I turned to face my friend.

“Well?” he asked, staring me in the face with burning excitement.

“Let’s get back to work,” I said coldly, “you have to keep away from her.”

“Why?” his excitement was replaced with shock.

“For your own good, stay away from her. I know her.”

“What’s wrong with her?” an insane curiosity engulfed him.

“No man who gets close to her fares well.”

“Whys that?”

“Um, well—”

“You two! Get back here right now!” came Daniel’s shrill little voice.

“I’ll tell you later.” I said.

***

George whistled from disbelief after I finished relating to him all I knew about the new receptionist.

“That’s some overly protective pater,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes, he is.” I agreed with a nod.

“But she’s grown now, ain’t she? He has to let her go.”

“Probably so. But obviously not to guys like us. He’d make sure we don’t get to her.”

“For a fact?”

“Yeah…it’s best to keep away. He can destroy your life, her father.”

We walked in silence for a while, with George still whistling and shaking her head.

“What’s her name ’gain?”

“Wabwino, oldest of the three and most beautiful.” I said grimly.

“Wabwino, eh?”

“Yeah.”

He suddenly lashed out and threw a punch at the air. I was glad to be way out of its reach.

“Why is life so unfair!” he ejaculated. “I can’t get the most beautiful girl just because I don’t got no fancy office job!”

“That’s just the way it is,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not fair.” He gasped.

“Not it’s not” I said, inwardly feeling his pain. “But we’re gonna find good girls one day—girls our class.”

“I don’t want girls my class. I want her!”

“Just forget abou’ her, for your own good.”

“Can’t.”

Another silence issued, a longer and more painful one.

“Goodnight, mate,” he finally said in a low tone.

“Goodnight.” I replied. “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” 

He turned round the corner and hastily walked away. He walked with a low stoop, and as his dark form disappeared from view, I wrapped my coat more snugly around myself. It was a chilly night and the air was dump and misty. As I plodded on towards the block where my apartment was, I could not help feeling that things will never be the same again.

***

With the coming of Wabwino, a wind of change blew through the factory. All the workers worked harder and dressed more smartly. Even the late comers ceased their bad habit of coming late, and Daniel became more vulgar and harsh. It seemed everyone wanted to make a good impression with Wabwino, everyone but me. I tried my best to keep clear of her. I would watch nonchalantly as they tried to reach out to her—greeting her at every opportunity, helping her with menial tasks such as opening the door, and working with extra gusto whenever she happened to be around to see it.

Yes, I knew who Mr. Mphamvu was and what he was capable of doing. It was best, I concluded to have nothing to do with her. So everyday, whenever I came to work, or left work, I ensured that I did not cross paths with Wabwino Mphamvu. This was rather easy to do, considering that she did not pay much attention to us. She was so much into her work of dazzling customers with her flashy smile, to the chagrin of most of the guys who wanted her to notice them.

Interestingly, it did not occur to me that Wabwino would recognize me as that boy from her school days. I was so certain she would not, because even back at school, I had worked extra hard to keep clear of her. Besides that, we had not been in the same class. There was no way she knew me. At the time our eyes had met, that day I had stared at her through the slightly open door, I had not seen even the slightest glint of recognition in her face. It was obvious that I was a perfect stranger to her. However, one day, something happened that made me realise how wrong I was.

I was plodding home from work, blowing into my freezing palms in an attempt to warm them up. The weather was so cold that it stung. I wrapped my hands around myself, but it did not help much. At this moment, when I was so engrossed in my own misery, I heard a car behind me.  It came to a smooth stop beside me. I slowly draw to a halt as I laid my eyes upon it. The window rolled down and I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Wabwino’s beautiful face staring at me. Her eyes were round and excited, and there was an enchanting smile across her lips.

“Hullo,” she greeted, her lovely voice resonating in my ears.

“Hi.” I responded softly, my voice muffled with surprise.

“Charlie, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I gaped back at her. How on Earth did she know my name?

“Need a ride?”

“No…I’d rather walk.” I replied timidly.

“Come on, please get in Charlie.” She requested. It was more of a command than a request. I shuddered and moved a step towards the rear door.

“Go round and get up front.” She said softly, her bulging eyes scrutinizing my plebeian, miserable self. I did as she requested and sat in the front passenger seat next to her. The inside of the car was a stark contrast to the outside. It was warm and had a sweet, perfumy smell. Everything about this car was fine. Its seats were more comfortable than my old couch at home, and even my bed was beaten by far. Warm air was gushing out from God knows where and onto my cold feet. I felt like kicking off my shoes, but I knew what stench would reek off my feet and foul the sweet air. There was slow, relaxing music playing on the radio. I murmured inwardly at the grandness I saw around, and I knew I did not belong to such a world.

“Close the door, Charlie,” she commanded.

I felt a flush of embarrassment and pulled at the door. It banged shut. She winced. I sank into the seat.

“How are you, Charlie?” she asked.

“Um…fine.” I replied in a tiny voice. I felt unworthy of her presence. I stared back at her with reverence, as though she was a queen, and me a pasty peasant.

“Wondering how I know you, Charlie?” it was as if she could read my mind.

“Yeah.”

“I remember you from school. You were at my school. I know you from back then.”

“Oh.” I said, great astonishment gripping me and wrapping its long fingers around me, nearly squeezing my life out.

“Do you though remember me?” she stared hopefully at me. Her eyes flashed with expectation.

“No.” I lied.

“That’s strange,” she said with a smirk.

“Why is it strange?” I found myself asking.

“You used to stare at me a lot,” she chuckled.

“Oh.” I said again. I goggled at her, speechless.

“You do remember me.” She continued, smiling broadly. “I can see it all over your face.”

“You’ve caught me,” I acquiesced.

“Any way, even though you did not know it, I was interested in you. So I found out all I could about you, and learnt that you are quite an interesting person.”

“You did?” I could hardly believe what I was hearing.  

“Yes.” She hesitated. She looked away from me and played around with her fingers for a little while, then she moved her hand to her hair and pulled at it. I watched her with mixed feelings, not knowing what to make out of all this. Finally she turned and stared back at me. There was a certain softness in her eyes which I could not interpret.

“I don’t want to waste your time, Charlie,” she said, reaching out for my hand. She grasped it and looked into my eyes. I held my breath, and with a thumping heart, stared at her small, soft, delicate hand as it wrapped around mine large, blackened and calloused from toil. I felt like pulling it out. I was not worthy to hold such a hand.

“I want to know,” she began in such a tone that shudders run up and down my spine. “Do you love me?”

My jaw fell open, and the biggest clamour filled my head. Everything around me vanished into a hazy cloud, and all I could see were her eyes, staring at me like two bright lights in the darkness. In them I saw a petition, a heart felt petition to release the affection that I had imprisoned in the dark recesses of my being all this while. At that moment, my heart was swarmed with emotion that I never knew I was capable of having. I felt like telling her that I really did love her and that all this time, fear had concealed the fact that I really wanted her. But I could not.

“I am sorry,” I said, looking away. “I do not feel the same way.”

She slowly let go of my hand, a look of disappointment stretching across her face.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” She said coldly, putting her hands on the wheel. “Where do you stay, Charlie?”

“Number six, Jacaranda Street.”

She drove in utter silence, her eyes fixed straight on the road ahead. There was a melancholy about her that I had never seen before. Peculiarly, at this time of her distress, she looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her before. I could not help but look at her.  

Finally, we arrived at Number Six, Jacaranda Street and I carefully got out of the car, and closed the door behind me. I slowly walked away, trying my best not to look back.

“Charlie,” she called through the open window. “Is it because of my father? Are you afraid of my father?”

I stopped. A cold fear crept all over my body. But before I could turn to reply, I heard the car drive off. I quickly turned and was in time to see it disappear around the corner. As I looked on, I thought I saw a dark form move in the shadows beyond the street lights. But the instant I thought I had seen it, it vanished. I shivered and scurried towards Number Six.

***
 When I returned to work the next day, I was in a confused state of mind. I did not really know if I had dreamt yesterday’s incident or if it had really happened. It was too bizarre an occurrence to have happened. I eventually convinced myself that I had hallucinated. There was no way the most beautiful girl in town, and probably the whole world, could fall for an ignoble being like me. There was no way Wabwino Mphamvu could love me. Who was I to be love by her?

Upon arrival at work, everything went about as always. Wabwino was busy at the reception desk, and did not even seem to give a care that I existed. There was no tell-tale sign about her that alluded even slightly to yesterday’s event. This added all the more to my confusion, and the notion that yesterday’s encounter had been imagined.

It was eerie, but over the next few days, I found myself dreaming of Wabwino and wanting her. In my mind’s eye I saw myself walking with her down the aisle dressed in a black suit, and she dressed in an elegant white dress. Even my work was affected because I would pause to daydream about her. Only Daniel’s insults would start me back to work. Oftentimes, when walking back home from work, I imagined that her car would pull up beside me and that she would call me to get in. In fact, each time a car drove by, I would stop and stare at it ruefully.

One day, George caught me staring at her as she gracefully walked past us to the front office. We were loading some crates onto a truck.

“She’s beautiful, ain’t she?” he said admiringly.

“Huh?” I replied, starting out of my daydream.

“Wabwino, she’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah she is,” I said with a sigh.

He eyed me closely. “You love her, don’t you?”

“Huh? Who? Me? Nay.”

“Yeah you do. Don’t lie to me.” He insisted with a little annoyance. “I can see it all over you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said indifferently, hurling a big crate furiously onto the truck. The bottles rattled loudly.

“Careful over there!” Daniel shrieked from behind. “We don’t want any breakages.”

“I see the way you look at her,” George continued. “You definitely like her.”

“We all look at her like that.” I hissed.

“Not the way you do.” He chuckled. “You love her. Any dummy can see that.”

I sighed. “Even if I do, what difference can it make? She and I can never be.”

“I know she digs you too, and I know something is going on between the two of you.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked with bulging eyes.

He pulled me aside and said, “About a week ago, I saw you get into her car.”

My heart missed a beat. I stared at him with shock. So it was true: that incident had actually taken place and I had not hallucinated it. I felt a cold fear grip my heart. I grasped his shoulder.

“George,” I said breathlessly, “don’t tell anyone. Else I’m history.”

He winked. “It’s our secret.”

“Charlie boy!” Daniel hollered suddenly, “come over here.”

I promptly walked over to where Daniel stood and was barking out commandments. He glared at me and gave me a receipt.

“Give this to the receptionist, boy,” he said.

“What do I say?”

“Don’t be silly. Just give her the wretched thing and she’ll know what to do with it.” He hissed. I obeyed and walked down the concrete path to the front door. I pushed open the glass door and sauntered in. Wabwino was seated at her desk, staring at the computer screen with a lazy expression on her face. She started when she saw me. I thought I saw a little anger in her eyes. I instantly stretched out the receipt and gave it to her. She stared at it with a nonchalant look about her.

“Daniel told me to bring it here.” I mumbled.

“Of course,” she replied, stacking it away in a drawer. She looked up into my face with a hand under her chin.

As I stared back at her, I was suddenly overcome with a strong desire to tell her how I really felt about her. I could not hold it in any more.

“Um…Miss Mphamvu,” I began.

“Yes?” her eyes glowed a bit.

“Um…nothing, ma’am.” I gasped. I just could not get myself to say it.

She smiled. “Charlie—I know, I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes. You clearly said you don’t like me. I understand.” She smiled at me in a sadistic manner.

“I did say that…but—”

“Charlie!” Daniel’s shrill voice came from outside.

“What am trying to say is that…”

“Charlie, your boss hollered,” she said coldly.

I hesitated, winced, then slowly made my way outside.

***

I was late, and I knew it. For the first time in my all my working life, I was late. I did not care, however. It was peculiar. I had never felt so low in my life. I felt a soft, gentle pain in my heart, which pain supped me of all energy and will to live. It was as if a large part of me had died. In my mind, I replayed over and over again that incident in which Wabwino had asked me if I loved her. Ever since that incident, I realised that I had great affection for her. That question alone had awakened great feelings that I had somehow managed to suppress all my life. Now alive and active, these feelings were gnawing me away to nothing. It was odd how I could want so much a girl that I had never believed I could ever have.

“She can never be mine,” I growled, gnashing my teeth. “Her father will kill me, and she can just never been mine.”

I trudged in through the gate. Billy, the guard, grunted a cold greeting.

“Howdy,” he said. Oddly, his voice sounded quite ominous.

“Hi,” I replied. I wearily looked around. “Too quite around here. Everyone in?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod, staring intently into my face. “Mr. Daniel was asking about you.”

“He was?” I was hardly surprised.

“Yes. He said you should sees him immediately you arrive.”

“Aye.”

I wearily walked through the door. Wabwino was seated at her desk. She looked kind of pale and ill. But I was too distraught to care.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“Hullo,” I grunted coldly and indifferently and proceeded to the stores room. I was met with a dozen distraught faces. These faces belonged to my workmates and they were standing around Daniel, who was showering them with insults.

“There you are,” Daniel said upon seeing me.

“Here I am,” I replied.

“Open your locker. I need to search it.” He hissed fiercely.

“Why?” I inquired with a puzzled look.

“Miss Mphamvu lost her cellphone. So we are searching everybody’s lockers. We’ve searched all lockers and only yours remains.”

‘So that’s why she looks kinda ill,’ I thought. I slowly opened the locker. It was hardly opened before Daniel thrust his short little arms in it. He threw everything out onto the floor.

“You are gonna find nothing, boss,” I said. “Why do you even bother yourself? The thief might be miles away from here, you know. Better chance calling the phone company, or even the cops.”

Daniel said nothing. With a furious expression on his face, he continued rummaging through my property. Suddenly, he stopped and slowly pulled out a phone—Miss Mphamvu’s phone. A hush fell upon the observers. I almost fainted from shock, my eyes popping out of their sockets.

“Well, Charlie,” Daniel said waving the phone in front of my face. “This does not look like yours, does it?”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I did not do it,” I breathed. I looked around at my fellow workmates, hopping to see any sympathizing look in their faces, any glint of trust; but no one was on my side. Not even George. He stared at the floor in disappointment. My whole body began to shake, and I don’t know whether it was from shock, or anger, or both.

“Someone call Miss. Mphamvu.” Daniel demanded.

A few moments later, a very pale Wabwino was standing before me, seething.

 “How could you, Charlie? she said in a hurt voice.

“I did not do it,” I breathed. My soul was pining away to nothing.

“Its no use denying,” Daniel said triumphantly. “ You are fired!”

I was struck mute. I just gaped at him in shock. I stared pleadingly at Wabwino, but she stared on adamantly, without an ounce of sympathy.

“Pack your stuff. You are going to jail.” Daniel continued, laughing evilly.

“Can I personally drive him to the police station?” Wabwino requested. “I want to ensure that he pays for this hideous crime.”

“I will need to accompany you, just in case he turns on you.” Daniel said.

“He won’t,” Wabwino said. “He is too much of a coward.”

“Alright,” Daniel agreed reluctantly.

A few minutes later, Wabwino was driving me to the police station. I was seated in the front passenger seat, just as I had done that night, about two weeks ago. This time, the car did not look so grand anymore. It felt like a little cocoon of death. I struggled to breathe as I tried in vain to plead my innocence.

“I did not do it, Wabwino,” I moaned. “I’ve been set up.”

Wabwino did not speak, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“I am certain this is your father’s doing.” I thrust my head in my arms. “He probably hired Daniel to put that phone in my locker after knowing that I like you.”

“Finally you admit it,” she said angrily. “You admit that you like me.”

I suddenly felt as though I could tell her anything in the world. At this juncture when it was too late, all my cowardice vanished and I felt freer than I had ever felt before.

“I love you, Wabwino,” I uttered in sincerity. “I had no idea how much I loved you until now. All along I have been afraid of your father and what he would do to me. But now I don’t care. All I want is you. I don’t care what happens to me. You gotta believe me. I had nothing to do with the theft of your phone. I did not steal it. Someone put it in my locker and I have a feeling your father has something to do with it.” I paused to take a breath. “Now that I have said what I wanted, I can go and peacefully rot in jail.”

I felt as though a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I suddenly felt exhausted and slumped back into the seat, looking at her with a weary eye. Suddenly, I felt the car slow down and come to a halt. I looked at her questioningly. She looked at me with a serious expression.

“You really love me?” she asked.

“From the bottom on my heart,” I said.

Her face softened and a sweet smile spread across her lips. “Then run away with me.”

“What?”

“I am tired too of my father. I am sick and tired of living under his shadow all the time. I want to be free, like a bird. All my life I feel as though I have lived behind bars. I have been caged all my life, Charlie. It is time to break free. Run away with me, Charlie.”

“But…your father…he will find us.” I mumbled with goggle eyes.

“So what if he does? What will he have against me? He owes me my freedom.”

“But…”

“Are you a coward, Charlie?”

I frowned. “No, I am not.”

“Then run away with me.” 

I reached out and held her hand. I squeezed her it gently and smiled broadly. “Let’s run away my love.”

She nodded and set her foot hard on the fuel pedal. The car immediately screeched off down the road out of town.

Three months after Wabwino and I ran away, her sisters, Tracy and Esther, ran away too with the men they had come to love. I felt a little sad that it had to come to this, but I learnt a lesson out of the whole thing: when a bird grows up, it needs to fly away. You can’t hold on to it even if you try to.  The time always comes when it rouses itself up and flies out of the nest.

Caged
© 2009 Kundananji Creations
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