The Wife ESCAPED!

“Americana, abeg I wan rush go do something,” Chidi said to Timmy who was his assistant on shop duty that day.

“Okay, man. I got your back.”

“Ehen, thank you. Ehh… just make sure say everything dey alright o. Always look the front of the shop. I just wan go collect something, I no go tay, you hear?”

“Yeah. But what’s tey mean?”, Timmy asked.

“Ehh… tay mean say ‘I no long’. As in, I no go stay tay… stay long.”

“Oh Okay. Tey. Not stay long. Got it.”

“Ehen. I go come back just now.”

“No problem, man. Take your time. I got it all covered.”

With that assurance in mind, Chidi left the shop, leaving only Timmy behind to man it, something that had never happened before.

Barely five minutes after Timmy had seen Chidi’s back, a young man in his early to mid twenties swaggered into the shop.

“Yo Timmy, wadup?”, he hailed before Timmy could open his mouth to ask what he wanted.

“Uhh… cool,” the surprised shopkeeper responded. “How d’you know my name?”

“Jeez, man. You don’t remember me?”

“Uhh… not really. Who are you?”, Timmy demanded, eyeing his baggy shirt, ripped jeans and turned around cap with surprise.

“Damn, I’m hurt. You really don’t remember me? I was your biggest fan back at Richmond High!”

“You were at Richmond? But I remember everyone b…”

“Except me, it seems. But I forgive you, man. Can’t hold a grudge against my main man, you know.”

Just then, a tall well-dressed man about the same age walked into the shop and stood beside the first visitor.

“Where you been, huh?”, the first one demanded.

“I was just looking for a place to park the car safely.”

“Whatever. Hey Timmy, this my brother, Rick. Yo Ricky, meet my main man back at Richmond, Timmy Cool. The King of Dunk.”

“Nice to meet you,” they both said as they shook hands.

“Yo Timmy, much as I’d love to catch up, we came here for business….”

“Wait. Uh… sorry to ask, but what’s your name again?”

“Mickey, man. Mickey the Great.”

“Nice. So uh… let’s hear what you got?”

“Actually, we’re here to see what you got. I’m ahunting for a TV for my Ma. Some cool shit with all them modern stuff. You stock that here?”

“We got everything you need, bro,” Timmy replied with pride. “Just look around.”

Mickey glanced hurriedly around the large shop and focused on a large 42-inch television near where he was standing.

“What’s the price tag on this one?”

“That one? Set you back some six figures.”

“Whoo! You serious?”, Mickey whistled. “You got some hot stuff here, you know. Been long in the business?”

“Nah. This whole shindig ain’t mine. Just helping a brother out. But you can try that one over there. Set you back only a couple thou’, but it’s still a winner.”

“Nah,” Mickey shook his head while reaching into his back pocket. “I want the best for Ma. You take checks?”

“Aw. Sorry, man. Cash only.”

“Oh well, cash’s in the car. Yo Ricky, go get my briefcase from the car. Take the TV with ya. You okay with that, Tim?”

Timmy shrugged in response and the tall young man picked up the TV and left. He watched him go and had a feeling that there was something he was missing. He didn’t know what exactly, but somehow, he knew that something was not right.

“Yo, whatcha say, we meet up sometime to shoot some hoops?”, Mickey said, distracting him from his thoughts.

“Uhh… Kinda busy nowadays, you know, but…”

“No problema. I understand. Just would… you know, love to see you land some of your crazy ol’ slam dunks. You’re a joy to watch, man.”

“I try, man. I try,” Timmy smiled, showing his dimpled cheeks.

“What the hell’s keeping this kid,” Mickey muttered beneath his breath as he checked his watch.

“Yo Timmy, lemme go see what Ricky’s up to. Be back in a sec.”

Again, the alarm bells went off in Timmy’s head, but all he said was, “‘Kay”.

While he waited for his customer, he felt he needed to get himself busy to avoid thinking crazy things. Idle minds were usually the Devil’s work-hammer. He busied himself writing the receipt for the item and he was so engrossed in trying to write it out perfectly that he didn’t notice Chidi’s entry.

“How far, Americana? Dem buy anything for my back?”

“Uhh… what’s that mean?”

“Ehh… as in, did you sold anything when I’m not dey? As in, you sell anything? Ah, your wahala tire me. Wan make person dey bite tongue. Did you selled anything?”

“Yeah. Sold one of em big TVs.”

“How much you sell am? You don record the money?”

“Ain’t got the cash yet. Mickey’s go…”

“Eh? Wetin you talk? Ehnt got what?”

“Ain’t got the cash… yet. Mickey’s…”

“Wetin concern me concern Mickey, abi na Mickey Mouse?”, Chidi shouted in exasperation. “How much you sell the TV and where the money?”

“You oughta go back to school, man,” Timmy sighed, tearing out the receipt. “I said, I… ain’t… got… the cash… yet.”

“So wetin you com get? Where is the TV?”, Chidi demanded, blinking rapidly and beginning to sweat.

“Mickey has it,” he replied calmly. “He’s gone to get the cash and he’ll be back in no time.”

“Heyyy!”, Chidi wailed, placing both hands on his head. “This boy don kill me o! You sell TV, the person carry am go and you never collect money… Americana, you be fool? You no see say dem don cheat you?”

“Come on, man. Ain’t no cheating here. I know that dude… or well, he knows me, but… I don’t remember him and I quit basketball before I got into Richmond… oh fuck!”

At that sudden realization, Timmy ran out of the shop like a madman.

Several minutes later, he returned, panting heavily.

“Can’t… can’t find him anywhere, man. I knew something was… was off, you know. I felt it, man, I felt it! Damn!”

Chidi hissed and shook his head sadly. He was now seated on the ground while Timmy was on his haunches beside him, expressing just how close he had been to discovering that the guy was a fluke.

“Our own don finish,” Chidi prophesied. “At least, your own good. Your papa is a big man. Me, na only Mama I get and heart attack go kill am if she hear this matter. Americana, see the kind wahala wen you don put me!”

“You’re wrong, man,” Timmy sighed. “We’re in this together. My dad’s a demon. That dude wouldn’t mind seeing me in bigger trouble.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“So how we go do am now? How we wan take remove ourself from this problem?”

“Well, we’ve gotta come clean. Tell the boss everything…”

Chidi suddenly burst into a bitter laughter.

“What’s funny?”, Timmy demanded, looking perplexed.

“You na. Prison nai you go go do that explanation. Once Oga Dona hear this matter eh, na bye bye to freedom until we pay that money.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Na run me I wan run o. Where I go go nai I still dey think.”

“Run? Damn. We ain’t thieves, man. We let the police know…”

“Eh? Police? You wan arrest yourself?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You will know. Na go I dey so o. Wait till I don go far before you call police.”