Vengeance

I was working in the kitchen, when I heard her knock on the door. Now in my experience, I’ve noticed there are only two kinds of people that knock on your door. Sensible people and FOOLS. The sensible people will leave a reasonable interval between knocks because, you know, it’s only logical that you’ll take some time to get to the door. The FOOLS will knock on the door like you’re right behind it waiting for them to grace your home with their idiotic presence. This woman was the latter. She banged and banged on the door, causing me to panic and think there was something happening to someone at the door. I rushed to the door to open it for here, my hands soapy from washing dishes in the kitchen. She didn’t even acknowledge me, just barged into the house like she owned the place. I had been told by my madam to expect her, so I didn’t raise an alarm. She walked right into the living room, where small madam had left the TV on from earlier in the morning.

“Ei so you, I’m at the door knocking and you were watching TV?” she asked, her voice full of poison. I immediately knew what kind of person I was dealing with. There was no way to answer the question. If I told her that I hadn’t been watching the tv, she’d assume I was challenging her and calling her a liar. If I didn’t say anything at all, she’d ask me some stupid question like “Do you think I’m mad that I’ll ask you a question and not expect an answer?” and if I even tried to change the subject, she’d counter with something like “Do you think you’re smart?” So I just chose the option of looking at her face, pretending to be meek. I can’t believe she’d see my hands covered in soap and assume I was watching TV. Why was I using the TV to wash my hands?

She let herself fall into one of the chairs with a heavy plop. She tried to take off her shoes but couldn’t reach them. She looked up and saw me standing there watching and this seemed to tick her off.

“Ei ewuraba, do I have to beg you to help me remove my shoes? And won’t you get me something to drink? Where is the TV remote? You aah you won’t do anything proper, see what you’re watching.” Her voice was unnecessarily loud and full of contempt. Without thinking I bent to help with her shoes. Immediately my hands touched her legs she shouted,

“What do you think you’re doing?! Look at the hands you’re using to touch me? So so soap on them! As for me I don’t pamper house-helps oh! Go and wash them and bring me some juice to drink! You want to use soapy hands to be touching me, you must be mad.”

I walked out of the room fast and headed for the kitchen. Rinsing the soap off my hands, I smiled a devilish smile. Madam’s sister or not, this woman was asking for trouble. I took out a glass from the cupboard and a box of fruit juice from the fridge.

“Will you hurry up?!” the visitor called from the living room. I felt a small amount of saliva build up in my mouth. I spat into the glass and poured the juice on top of it.

“Please I’m coming!”

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