WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

The day ran well into the night when Agu and Azuaka Jnr. located Opula at Orange County, on the mainland of California. She occupied a room a toilet and kitchen with three other neighbors. Agu started wondering at the cramped room, being conscious of the ceiling fan that swung an inch overhead. He craned his neck to the edge of the wall right extreme to drop his bag only to behold piles of pants and brassieres on a sizeable stool. That was the only spot he thought was a bit spacious; for they seemed stuck in the hole of an ant. He put his bag on the floor which had torn, worn out carpet; lay on the floor with his head on the bag. Azuaka Jnr. lay on the bed, deep in the maniacal thought of the Monkeys’ software and the way forward with Ferguson. Opula was having a wash in the bathroom when something struck Azuaka Jnr. in the head, so he seized the opportunity to warn Agu.

“Agu,” he called, sitting up. “You shouldn’t have told them I stole my father’s gratuity to get the bill. I am really disappointed in you.” The cachet of his voice; its tenderness had given way for his fury. “I have always known you as a stupid dude and not a talker.”

“I thought that would make him consider us at the moment we were losing out,” said Agu, taking off his T-shirt at the hot air that hovered around him.

“Because I told you I stole my father’s gratuity? What if I had told you I worked for it would it have motivated your action?” His countenance was iodine on a wound.

“My action was right. You worked for it. Didn’t you? Every work demands brain and you actually used some. I mean how many thieves could clench on such amount of money without guns? He saw the look on his face and rendered his apology to Azuaka Jnr. As long as Monkeys existed he would not want to fall out with anybody, not even Azuaka Jnr; his art of clenching his father’s gratuity feared Agu. He had started imagining Azuaka Jnr. throttling his father to death before stealing the money. “Ok, I’m sorry. You’re not a thief,” he said, patting his laps. Thief! How can someone steal that money without spilling blood, especially when the owner is a police officer, he thought.

Quietness hung across the room, as they listened to two neighbors curse each other in Mexican very close to their window. “Mad people give everywhere!” they curse each other.

Just then silence appeared at the edge of neighborhood, the ear-ringing silence that featured after heavy bickering. They would have to whisper through; the silence was enough caution.

“We are here now, Agu. Please, Opula shouldn’t know about us. You will have to contend with me if you tell her anything.”

After a brief silence Agu asked, “But why?” Their sweating faces came in the light. “Is she not your lover? Why keep it secret? My Facebook girlfriend knows about the Monkeys. She knows someday I’m going to put the world in her purse,” his trembling voice whispered.From NôvelDrama.Org.

“I am not answerable to you. But if you want to know bring her in the game. By the time we find ourselves in jail I will be the first to kill you. Opula is a talker so get that in your thick skull.” His tone sounded peremptory and he would not want to argue further with Agu. He brought Agu in the game and would want him to respect his audacity.

Agu asked, “What if she gets to see Nku and Ferguson? What will you tell her if she asks?”

“Nku and Ferguson are here to invest in real estate and we are to help them out hoping to be paid in the end, case close.”

“We are not to commit to anyone. But as soon as we fall in love every secret should be made known; only then can trust be earned,” replied Agu.

Azuaka Jnr. chuckled. “Your Facebook girlfriend must have been teaching you well. I know you want me to bring her in the game. I know you want to let her know why I stole my father’s gratuity.”

Agu added swiftly, “Yes, that should bait her into the game and help her earn your trust. She will learn to brittle her tongue because if she reveals anything to anyone the both of you will go down, everybody goes down. Think of what she will do if she gets to hear it from someone else.”

“That someone else is you.”

“Never. I mean walls have got ears. You never can tell.”

“See, only the mouse at home will tell the one outside there is fish in the cupboard. Aside the three of us nobody knows about Monkeys software. I brought you in the game, Agu. My words stand.” They quietened as they could hear Opula shuffling her flip-flip, humming a song, and feeling happy.

She had barely come in the door when Azuaka smiled at her

“Definitely, I’m proud to see you dudes,” said Opula, her smiles piercing around the room while she walked straight to her cosmetics on the rack. She was in a white towel and her back which glittered in light was still bathed in water.

“It’s been like ages, Opula. I thought we would never meet”. Agu’s squeaky voice sounded. Azuaka Jnr. sensed his squeaky voice, really unlike him, as though he would mistakenly reveal their secret. He laughed. “We have been in California but never saw each other – that’s the power of California.”

“The both of you should be flogged,” said Azuaka Jnr. They laughed briefly and Opula bent to keep her cream; her thick, olive-toned thighs greeted Azuaka Jnr. In his thought he smacked his lips and his zipper did likewise; it has been a while. My penis is heavy. We will make love tonight, he thought. Opula walked to the door to shut it and his stare followed her plump backside; how it rolled within the towel like two basketballs smashing each other. And when she returned to her rack, his stare came upon her round face, the same round face that had been a picture of lust; spotless, dimpled, tiny lipped and Chinese-nosed. He could see her large we-up breasts remained. Her torso had been ectomorph and now she had grown bigger backside with her ectomorph torso standing on it, he wondered if she was still that campus virgin that snarled at his touches. Way back on campus Azuaka Jnr. was a faithful assignment-and-exam boyfriend who looked forward to his sex-cookies. Opula always fought back his advances and only scratched his head. She kept scratching his head until one day her sufferer took his time to view his head in the mirror, checking if he had ringworm.

“Oh the hustling in California! At dawn everyone parts and hustles, and I wonder how friendship survives here,” her soft voice sounded like a refined Spanish poor girl that she was; one that dropped mother tongue for exposure.

“You wouldn’t tell me you haven’t been in touch with Azuaka Jnr., your man that wants to die in Texas,” said Agu, stealing a glance at Azuaka Jnr; he had a delighted smile on his face for the authority ‘your man’ came with.

“It’s none of your business, Agu.” She had a fanciful smock on her face and her gap teeth snapped in the mirror opposite Azuaka Jnr. Agu turned to his side on the floor giving her room to walk freely. “I was always the one ringing Azuaka Jnr.”

Azuaka Jnr. smiled and it was the only way he could emote what just crossed his mind, “Yes, she rang me often, especially when I lamented over my resume papers that I found with a pizza seller.”

Agu giggled, throwing his legs carelessly.

Opula laughingly sat on the bed and the bed creaked under her buxom body. “I thought it was absurd when you told me that not until you cried over the phone. I can imagine you staying at home waiting to get a reply from the ministry not knowing your resume papers were serving pizza eaters,” Opula said and rubbed him on the shoulder. Their stare met and Azuaka Jnr. was stared out by Opula; I have been a busy factory worker and never rubbed a man on the shoulder like this. What a feeling! She thought. She kept at her stare and started blinking at Azuaka’s scorched skin, straggly beards and eczema on his neck; hardship had been walking through him, leaving behind his foot prints.

“I had to quit applying when he told me that,” said Agu. His desire was to talk less than necessary, always letting Azuaka Jnr. take the lead so as to conceal their mission. He looked at Opula. “What about you, Opula? How has hustling been with you?” he asked…