One fine Christmas afternoon

after a sumptuous meal with the family, Kongai took a stroll to the neighbor’s house where she engaged in a conversation with Nyeko the neighbor’s son. As they stood by the road side, laughing and exchanging pleasantries, the Toyota cruised down the street. Papa was coming home. He nodded, acknowledging that he’d seen them then drove home and immediately parked the car in the garage. Mostly he left the car in the compound for a while, this time there was some sort of urgency. Without stepping in the house, he walked out the gate like someone in urgent need of a restroom, as though he wanted to sprint but was trying to keep his cool. He walked up to Kongai and Nyeko and said;- “Kongai, you know it’s not polite for the two of you to stand at the road side as though you were homeless. Why don’t you come into the sitting room?” Nyeko sensed trouble, his six pack chest was heaving faster than he would have liked. Kongai on the other hand, always trusting and papa’s favorite daughter, didn’t see anything to it. She gladly obliged.
When they walked in the door, papa requested the rest of the kids to go play some place else. He said they had important issues to discuss and therefore needed some privacy. Kongai and Nyeko glanced at each other with questioning looks. After asking the maid to give them each a drink, he sat down on the opposite side of the room. Curiosity got the better of Kasai, so he snack into his parent’s bedroom and pressed his ear hard against the door. He could hear the conversation loud and clear. On occasion he peeked through the key hole and as luck would have it, he could see all three of them, strategically situated for his benefit, like pieces on a chess board.
“So Nyeko, how are you?
“I’m fine sir”
“Kongai, you know my house is always open to your friends” “Yes papa” “So why were you standing by the road side like two homeless orphans?” He picked up his glass slowly, took a sip of beer and leaned back in the sofa like he was getting ready to hear the most profound explanation. Kongai was fidgeting with her fingers, avoiding eye contact. Kasai could feel the tension sipping through that key hole, clogging it at points. He also began to develop tiny beads of sweat on his fore head. The silence was deafening. Then to his relief and am sure Nyeko’s too, Kongai begun - “We… well, I didn’t think we would be out there for long … we hadn’t been out there for lo… I was just saying Merry Christmas and was about to come home when you saw us”. Papa nodded his head, as if in agreement, then he said “Nyeko?” “Yes sir” “What were you discussing?”
By this point Nyeko’s shirt was drenched in sweat; one could swear he had been running a marathon. He hadn’t touched the class of juice set for him but I’m sure he wanted to gallop it down and ask for more. His Adam’s apple moved erratically like it was searching for something in his neck. He cleared his throat, tried to moisten his tongue that had long dried up, and then made a motion as if to speak but there was no sound. On second attempt he said “nothing much sir”. Papa’s eyes were now cherry-ish black - some what light maroon.
“Nothing?! What do you mean ‘nothing!’? You were standing out there for a good while. ‘Nothing?!’ So you both left home to have a staring competition at the road side? That is ridiculous!”
Papa suddenly sprung out of his chair like he’d been stung by a swarm of bees.
He kicked the stool with his glass of beer out of his way and headed straight for Nyeko. By the time papa sprung, Nyeko, who had already been in the “get set” position both in body and mind, quickly ducked behind his chair. His sprint for the front door was punctuated by “I’m sori sa, I’m rilly sori”. He jumped over the table in the middle of the sitting room; swerving to dodge a slipper that papa had sent his way.
Papa shouted “Leave my daughter alone! do you hear me?” - all the while running after Nyeko. Nyeko pushed another chair to the side as he grabbed the handle of the front door. The journey from his sit to the door was several miles longer than he recalled. He must have been praying that the door was unlocked,or he would be roasted.
He tagged once and the door flung open, just as papa was about to grab him.
Nyeko run like he was being chased by a pack of lions, he didn’t look back.
All the commotion sprayed the other children out of their hiding places.
Papa, his coat flying behind him like a super hero, was chasing Nyeko, telling him never to come back; Kongai lifting her dress for easier movement was chasing papa urging him to stop. Mama who had been silently working in the kitchen was now standing at the door, hands on her chest, with a concerned look on her face while the rest of the children scampered for the best angle from behind her. Neighbors were peering out of windows, passer-by's fascinated by the drama that had all over a sudden presented it self. Indeed it was a sight to behold on a cool Christmas afternoon.