Dicky is on a revenge mission (Dicky part 2)

Dicky is on a revenge mission 

The thought of Dicky whiling away time on a hospital bed was inconceivable. I could not really bring myself to believe that a single act of an irate man, whose garden had been visited in his absence and the apple grafted with another plant of uncertain species, would render the alpha male he was, immobile for some days.  Dicky was a born leader and a man of action too. From a tender age, he had always led the timid herd of his age mates as they explored their world. Growing up and experiencing a new space beyond a mother’s womb and her lap is, and has always been fascinating to the young. Dicky made it his business to lead the village boys in all forms of wild adventure. He was not your normal idea of a handsome baby or cuddly angel. Dicky was born with unspeakable evil and meanness as a lifelong tenant in his heart. It goes without saying that, you and I, or any other being that possesses even the most mundane of an appendage above his shoulders, and rightly so to conclude, that the brute was born without that vital organ normally situated at the left side of a man’s chest. (heart)

Dicky was born with a rare condition of a cold heart. He was perpetually stuck in a state of permanent freeze when it came to matters love. Had he known the meaning of love, the lasses around him would have sworn permanent, unquenchable love to him. In spite of his breath taking ugliness, he had a knack for attracting women. An heartless philanderer who ran on a constant diet of a desire to conquer, devour and move on to the next land.

Prostrated on the tiny hospital bed was Dicky, beaten but not broken. Mistakes of his youth rode heavily on his shoulders with the bells of his previously missed opportunities chiming clearly in the silent afternoon air. As I approached his bed, the biggest eyes ever placed on a visage whose ugliness was only equaled by mortal sin opened. When he saw me approaching in carefully ironed pair of green trousers, bright yellow shirt and a maroon tie to match, he smiled either in admiration of my ‘sharp’ appearance or because at least I had found time to visit him.

Next to his bed stood a straight backed, wooden chair.  It had the appearance of a piece of furniture that had seen better days. Numerous notches were clearly visible and the numerous nails that had been used to repair it over the years it made the chair look like a collection of nails rather than a chair. Who knows,  it could have as well have served bravely in the local bar, witnessed and taken part in numerous bar brawls as it was sent flying through the air breaking a rowdy ‘mlevi’s’ jaw or knocking  a random prostitute off her ‘sina taabu’ stool before it was donated- albeit after a few repairs – to the hospital.

Dicky extended his hand in greeting as I carefully sat my skinny bum on the rickety piece of wood. “ Nayu  isele? ( How are you my friend.) He said in greeting as he extended his hand towards me in greeting. I took his firm hand into mine and responded jokingly, “Ndunatwaa ndii mwakoni mwanoo?”(haven’t you died yet young man). This kind of joking always served well to ease the tension in the air. To my light hearted response, Dicky chuckled and responded, “ ai uu? Mwana usu undu unambikie ndisa ukw’a ndaivithitye uteme uu.” (I can’t die before I avenge the panga cuts/violence meted upon me) . At his point I got really worried. I knew how wild Dicky could get. In my mind I developed the unsettling image of Dicky walking out the hospital, picking a panga and going straight away to hack the offending man to death. The shock must have registered on my face for Dicky laughed loudly and proceeded, “ Nauma vaa, akiau ndilea kwikia kiveti kya mwanosu ivu. Ndimueka mana.”(I swear that as soon as I leave this hospital bed I must impregnate his wife in revenge!) Dicky said this not in discernible bitterness but with resolve and determination lacing his voice. His eyes had something like defiance in them. He was suddenly a phoenix, ready from the ashes to rise and exert revenge on the offending party!

 He immediately changed the topic and started talking of merrier times in the past. Excitement could be felt in his voice as he spoke of his previous escapades. From the tone of his voice one could very clearly foretell that Dicky would not be ashamed of the panga cuts on his bum  but that he would proudly wear them as a badge of honour. A reminder of his conquests!  Dicky must have been the guy Don Williams sang of in the first two stanzas of his song : Shot Full Of Love

"Shot Full Of Love" – Don williams

Once I had a heart cold as ice,
Love for me was only for fun.
I'd make a mark for each broken heart
Like notches on the butt of a gun.

Once I had a trick up my sleeve
And a reputation all over town.
I was heartless and cold wherever I'd go,
I shot down every young girl, I found.

 From : http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/donwilliams/shotfulloflove.html

Some of Dicky’s tales were the stuff of a Young man who loved courting danger and savoured great thrill and satisfaction from each event. He bound me in a spell of tales the entire afternoon. I had hoped to visit an ailing acquaintance and console him for the deep panga cuts lining his buttocks but I ended up laughing the entire afternoon. I did not notice darkness creep in. By the time I stood up to leave it was almost 7 pm.  It was dark outside and dark clouds had started gathering in the sky. This was the rainy season and the clouds were clearly heavy with rain.

***

As I hurried home, one particular episode that Dicky had narrated kept ringing in my mind. I was a young man who had his set of raging hormones alright, but there was no way whether under the influence of a blue pill or not, ever be at per with Dicky. I was a timid lad. Sometimes I sang in the local church choir. My participation in the choir was not really inspired by a desire to join the terrestrial orchestra once I departed from this planet.

My main inspiration was Tina (short form for Christine.) I had started noticing her as she started walking with her shoulders hunched. This was in class seven. As the years passed what she had tried to conceal was all there to be seen by all, a gift adorned in spleandour. It was beautiful.  From that moment, I joined the church choir for she was an active member. However as much as I tried to draw her attention, she was so busy singing to her lord to notice me. However, I noticed how she laughed easily with the choir master.  Her eyes would shine bright and she would even pat his shoulder or back as she reeled off in peals of merry laughter. Knots of jealousy would constrict my lungs as tears of anger and betrayal dripped down my wounded heart.

I remember how the day before I visited Dicky at the hospital it had rained heavily. I had spent the day at the local market selling cabbages.  I had not carried an umbrella but with me I had the nylon sack in which I had ported the cabbages that morning. It had been a good day and I had made double the profit I had expected to make. As the rain started pounding,  I covered myself with nylon sack and trode home . All of a sudden, I heard a voice calling my name. It was unmistakably Tina’s voice. She was trying without much success to seek cover from the rain under a eucalyptus tree.

I crossed over to her side of the foot path and the knight in me, wearing a shining armour, rescued the damsel in distress. She grunted a single word of appreciation but that was enough for me. That single word had atoned all the sins imaginary and real that she had committed against me. She drew closer while at the same time taking the lion’s share of the sack. I did not mind about getting  drenched provided, Tina, the Tina of my dreams was comfortable. I guided her gently, at one point lucky enough for my hand to brush against hers as I adjusted to give her more room under our sack. We proceeded in that fashion until we got to her home. We stood silently by the gate with my tongue stuck  against the roof my mouth. At this point, she thanked be in a few words and quickly dashed into the compound. I was happy. I was excited. I was elated, Imagine sharing a sack roof with Tina. I could not believe it. That night I barely slept.

****

I was still sitting on that old chair at the hospital next to  Dicky’s bed listening to his tales when one story tore me apart. The damsel I had saved the previous  day, the damsel I would easily kill for. Tina, was after all part of his numerous conquests.

***

He had met her some weeks earlier as she came from the river. He had helped her ferry the water home. Once they got to her home he noticed that, her parents were away. Being the gentleman he was, he proceeded to ask for an axe and proceeded to split firewood for her. Dicky was a work machine and by the time he was through, a sizable amount of split firewood lay next to her feet.

His work had spoken for him and one thing led to another. Dicky looked at the admiration in her eyes and the demon that resided in him moved for the kill. They quickly got into the house and locked the door behind them. From somewhere between the expansive trunks he had for legs dangled and enormity of dumb bells. Tools of procreation bound in a bag of hormones and sheer desire.

He looked at the maiden and felt his heartbeat falter. She was the kind of lass deigned for gods and kings. She opened her mouth to speak and heaven smeared with pure honey dripped from her lips. His ears savoured the juice in her words, with relish and longing. The mellow voice was a  pillowy velvet to his arched ears.

He was a lost man shackled in a wave of wild desire. The craving he had smothered erupted. It was a fiery volcano.

***

Dicky, lying prostrate on his hospital bed like a priest taking his ordination vows broke my heart.

As I walked home, I could feel the wound in my heart hurt bleeding. Bleeding for Tina