Replaced At Night
By
Jacqueline Kamau
Since
graduation, I have held on to this dead bear despite replacing the donor. It
was in my first year when he gave me this dead bear. It will leave a small
space in between my two pillows where it used to wait for me late in the night.
The time I would come home to hold and play with it.
I would
tell it stories, mostly of the men of my life. The dead bear has heard a lot;
it has recorded all my experiences since my freedom to mingle was granted. It
has heard of all the outings, the rape, the kisses, the caress, love making and
Cumming.
The light brown dead bear has a black nose that I
have kissed all my happy days. Its two black eyes seem to bubble with hidden
emotions and information. Yes, it has endured all my blows during all my
disappointments.
Whenever I learnt that ‘he is married’ or ‘in a
serious relationship’ down the blows rained. On some occasions I throw it away
when it dawns on me that ‘he just used me’ or ‘he was just after my thighs;
this is why I toss it in the air and allow it to land with a thud and relish
the grumbling noise of the beads that fill its stomach.
Last Saturday, I do not know how I managed to get
home by 4:00am very drunk. The bar woman had insisted that I should go back
home in the morning. Probably I was not the first lady to come by the bar at
the time looking the way I was. I had followed Marcus advice;
“If you
feel it is no longer safe to be with me, you better come back to this club.”
“Babes,
you are my security”
“Off
course. I will never allow anything to harm you. I will always protect you with
my life.”
“I will
protect our love; I will not allow anything to come between….”
“But I
want you”
“You
have me, all of me”
“I can
have you?”
“I am
not attractive enough?
Then
why do you keep asking me? Go on boy.
“I’m
all yours, all the time.”
That
was the conversation at the bar earlier. Before we left the bar, Marcus, in
concern-laden voice, called me twice by my name. He said that I should take him
to his house. He had an emergency. I frowned and staggered briefly.
Marcus assured me that the house was just a few
blocks away and I could come back as soon as possible. That is how Marcus and I
left for his house to do something that was very urgent and important to him.
He could not wait to finish his drink. Marcus asked the bar woman to keep his
Jameson. This was the guarantee that we would come back soon.
**********
Four in the morning, I am in bed crying. On one
hand is my dead bear and on the other hand is my Jameson. As I sip the last of
it, a tear comes down through the stream that has formed around my now pink
nose. As each sip went down my dry throat, two drops of tears hit the dead
bear. The kind of tears that this bear has endured. They land hot, followed by
blows and a toss on the ground. I pick the dead bear from the floor and pamper
it. “Last night it was not a date rape, I enjoyed it.” I managed to whisper.
Marcus knew the prize he wanted for all the
drinks and the food we ate the bar. He had what he needed and he knew how he
needed it. He asked me to shower with him. I was not going to accept such
a thing. He removed his gray trousers and remained with a tight boxer that was
showing the mighty tower between his legs. He removed his shirt too. My eyes
hated the small tummy that was coming out slightly above his boxers.
“Do not
worry my dear, it is just a shower. Come on, you can join me.”
“I will
shower when we come back.”
“If you
are afraid of taking a shower with me then do it alone.”
A towel landed on my face and he went into the
bathroom. I could hear the sound of water hitting hard on his body. He expected
me to have removed my clothes by the time he was out of the shower in two
minutes. He went into the living room to allow me to change and go to the
bathroom, which I did. I smiled at him on my way in. That was the last smile.
Immediately I left the bathroom he was right outside the door, with just a pair
of shorts and his chest was waiting for my hug. He held on to me, kissed me and
said I was sweet. He was sweet too. He led me into the sitting room with his
hands gently massaging my breasts. He sat me on one of the couch and knelt
down. I leaned forward and our kissing and caress became more intense with the towel
allowing him to access the places that aroused me. I was losing my breath and
started taking in his, I was taking in everything as his hands moved down and
he got it right on my clit.
He pulled the entire towel aside and his eyes and
movements told me he wanted to kiss and find out if my pussy is as sweet as the
rest of me. I sobered up and told him to stop. I hurriedly put my towel
together and
sat on the other couch. He sat on the couch with a sigh, his manhood was very
inviting. The room was silent, he switched on the TV, reduced the volu me and
played soft music. I was feeling cold and was heading to the bedroom. He followed
me and handed me a lotion saying it will warm me up before we go back. After
two steps towards the sitting room he turned back. A humble romantic smile was
on his face, he asked me if he can apply the lotion. He came back took the
lotion poured some on his hands and started applying on my legs, he was
massaging them well, saying they are sexy. He kissed my thighs and massaged
them. He skipped where I wanted him to massage and started kissing me he leaned
on me and we both fell on the bed. His hot kisses were already making me wet. His
sweet tongue murmuring, “Let us do this gal.” he said among deep, furious
kisses. He got a condom from his pocket before removing his shorts showing me a
powerful tower that got into me within seconds.
***********
It is still early in the morning and I need to
move on, forget what happened last night. That is what I told my dead bear
before closing my swollen eyes. This is not the first time, I have landed several times, laid flat like an
envelope. However, I chose a long time ago not to remain on the ground. I have
always risen up above the troubles that men bring to me. But I have retained
this dead bear over the years.
The ironies of this dead bear ignite passions of
hate inside of me. I hate its red bow tie —the kind that I have always wished a
man should wear when taking me out. Nevertheless, I have loved feeling the
velvet red bow tie with my fingers. Just below it, there are two tiny green
ribbons that I like too because they lead me to the emptiness of the dead bear.
They remind me that it is just a doll. They have helped me recognize its
barrenness and, more so, that of its donor. However, when I play with it like a
beanbag, this dead bear reminds me of those days of romance.
The Dead bear’s fur that is neither red nor white
may lack clarity of appearance because, may be, of the day that I received it.
Its soft, dark-brown palms help me to hold it nicely when I mockingly dance to
some of the songs that have never been dedicated to me. The soft palms console
me, from the hard arms that have held me tightly for a short period. I dislike
the arms since they do not have any strength or energy. They just move when I
move them. They do not hold me even for a short time. They do not cover my slim
brown hands. I hold on to them just for a dance. Yet the dead bear does not
even know how to dance. It just follows me because I hold on its arms.
Unlike the dead bear, Jaymo knew how to dance. He
was holding me tight by my ass with both hands as we danced to Diamonds, Kesho.
He promised that he would act the song. Jaymo sang along to convince me ninataka kesho twende sote nyumbani. He
said that Saturday was the best day to go for such visits since are attended by
all including our pastor. Thus, we would not go on Monday but we should wait
for Saturday. Ninataka kesho twende
tukamwone mama he sang as he promised to take me to my parents and tell
them I am his wife.
I do not cry when I remember this but I dive into
my bed. It is because of Jaymo that I grab the left ear of the dead bear and
hug it. I am sure it will listen, but it will not have expectations like me. I
do not remember how the song began and neither do I remember how it ended. The
beats of the song are in my head, the words that Jaymo sang keep flowing back
into my mind and mouth as I sing along Diamonds voice too. I wish I can tell my
dead bear how we began dancing. He was seated at the fourth low behind the
choir across where I sat. We both kept on glancing at each other every time the
pastor read a verse from Proverbs thirty-one. I have promised My dead bear
knows that I will be a respectful and hard working wife whenever I meet a
promising man like Jaymo.
Each line was matching my way of life. I was
wearing a purple pants and bra. I had woken up early in the morning to prepare
for every minute of this day. I was feeling a spirit of submission all over me.
According to the pastor, if you spot such a lady ask her out for coffee. This
is what Jaymo did immediately after church. I had left the church and when I
stepped out of the gate, he was right there, looking for entry point into my
body.
“Can we
get a drink together?”
“Yes”
“Can we
do it now?”
“Yes”
“Are
you saved?”
“Yes”
“Did
you enjoy the sermon?”
“Ye...”
“Do you
think the pastor was describing you?”
“Y…”
“Can we
get in here?”
The conversation was fast and his hand was first
too. He led me into the next gate after the church. A lounge and people took their
drinks and food from their rooms. The Lounge was strategically targeting saved
brethren and sisters who knew Christ and had a relationship with him. The sisters
and brothers who were waiting on the lord for husbands and wife used the place.
However, most of them use the facility for breakfast before the church service
begins.
Jaymo and I were shown into one of the tiny and
dark room. He ordered for a cup of white coffee and I ordered milk. He moved close to me. I moved
further and felt something on my neck, I moved back quickly and landed on his
arms. He moved my legs to properly sit on him, his lips slightly above mine and
we brought them together started kissing. His belt was hurting my ass and I asked
him to adjust it. He adjusted even mine, opened my buttons and adjusted my bra
too. He was kissing me all through, none of us said anything we just changed
positions. I was facing him and shaking my waist to have his serve every part
inside me. He was vibrating well as we managed our moarns. Before the waiter
came back, I had already drunk a different kind of white thick liquid that
looked like milk.
When the
waiter knocked, we opened the door and he served us our hot drinks. We needed
the hot drinks because we were all shaken by our actions. After few minutes of
gulping our drinks, Jaymo managed to talk,
“Can we
meet on Saturday?”
“Yes”
“In an
open public place?”
“Yes
indeed”
“Can we
avoid….”
“Yes we
should.”
It is at this point that Diamond’s song started
playing. I am yet to understand how we started dancing. I am pulling the ears
of my dead bear so that I can stop hearing Jaymo’s voice. I want to hear the
voice of the dead bear. It drives me mad because it never says anything to me.
Yet sometimes I find comfort in it because I know it cannot tell me lies. However,
I am sad since it cannot make me promises. It cannot protect or prevent me from
doing anything. The bear is useless just like its lifeless nature. The more I
think about every man that the dead bear knows the more I am convinced I should
not have kept it.
I am throwing the dead bear away because of the
misfortunes that it has brought in my life. I blame it for all the mistakes
that I committed even though I was the one who made the choices. I feel that
this dead bear was there, just watching me as I drowned my life. It never said
anything when I cried after receiving my first slap. It did not warn me when he
did not pick my call on a Friday night. It never stopped me from calling him
ten times for ten days.
I have grown tired of the emotional turmoil of
moving from one extreme to another. I cannot wait for another Saturday when the
bear will be staring at me. Although this dead bear was not given to me on a
valentine day, I choose to divest it on this Saturday that happens to be
valentine day. I chose to dispose with it the unauthorized affairs that I have
had over the years. I chose to throw away all the empty promises that keep
making noise in my head. I choose to throw it away with the tears that come on
my way whenever I try to find love. I chose to get rid of all the attachments
that I have had with any man that I have loved in my life. I choose to just
throw it all away from me.
