LOVE BINDS. PART THREE: COINS HAVE MORE THAN TWO SIDES 3

A loud voice coming from behind Mwila-An broke in, “Give the lady in pink and her friend another round,” the man’s voice startled her and she lost her line of thought.

She turned around ready to decline but the tall dark leather jacket clad gentleman made the aching of her heart disappear as his lips parted in a smile.

“Hi”, he extended his hand to greet her and then Kundabene.

“Hi,” Mwila-An said, shaking his hand hesitantly, it was an awkward handshake with her hand limp in his like a dead fish.

“I am Chomba,” Tall, dark and handsome had a name.

“Bison.” She was unintentionally cold and that was all she could muster.

“Strange name,”

Silence.

“Umm, I seem to have interrupted you ladies...I guess will take my leave.”

She wanted to say something like no, stay and join us. But her charm and witty humour left her and she just could not say anything more than Bison. No smart one liner, no joke as to how the name Bison came about.

Silence.

He nodded and made his way back to wherever he came from. The bar seemed to swallow him up and he was gone like he was never even there.

Iwe, why so?!” Kundabene reprimanded.

“My goodness, what a fine piece of ass.” Mwila-An said with her fist over her mouth.

“Manje?!”

“I just dunno, did you see how good looking he is though?!”

Kundabene rolled her eyes, “Me and every chick in this damn place.”

Mwila-An raised her glass, “To Chomba?”

“To Chomba!”

Kundabene raised her glass and they laughed, knocking back their gin and tonic.

The night ended after a few more gin and tonic mixes, a stop at the popular filling station kiosk in Long acres for some chicken pies and a lot of gossip. Kundabene and Mwila-An were fairly new to each other, they were very different and easily an unlikely pair. They had become good friends and hang out as often as their schedules allowed. Kundabene was who Ishmael would definitely label ‘The Beyonce of The Group’. She had presence and was beautiful in a way that often caused any other woman around her to fade into background noise. Often times when the two of them did hang out and especially when Mwila-An showed up in her shorts and t-shirts, any male attention naturally went to Kundabene. Once at a crazy house party some guy asked if they were lesbian lovers. Kundabene was unperturbed, she leaned over and gave Bison a big kiss in full of view of everyone and said, yes.

That there was the story of Bison’s first real kiss.

The taxi ride home was filled with thoughts of Chomba’s appearance. How he came to speak with her from nowhere and disappeared back into wherever it was that good looking people like that come from. She was part ashamed to admit to herself she thought he was there to chat up Kundabene.

Ishmael’s hurtful words rang in her head. Nobody really wanted anyone. Nobody really wanted her.

She thought of Chomba’s face and smile. They seemed to neutralise the pang of the words.

Her phone screen flashed.

Incoming

Ishmael.

She cut the line and distanced her mind from anything that smelled of Ishmael.

Two weeks felt like two years when she Mwila-An muted Ishmael from her life but it was relevant. She didn’t want apologies or excuses, she needed silence. She needed to use the silence to help her access what mattered the most. Bar exams, they mattered. Her anger was vented out in libraries, exam rooms and triple distilled malt scotch. But even in the silence she had to admit that she missed Ishmael. Acting on a whim she called him. It would be her first call to him after relegating him to solitary confinement.

Ishmael smiled into his phone.

“M.Bison, ati bwa?” His joy went through the phone clearly.

“Hi Butah, ndiwe o pusa but na ku yewaaaaaa!”

He laughed and so did she.

Only Bison spoke to him that way and could get away with it.

The call lasted thirty-two minutes.

Ishmael apologised profusely and Bison admitted to maybe being a bit tactless in getting her point across. There was expressed forgiveness, laughter and plans made to play video games later.

Sundays were about to be back to how they were before their stupid fight. Before Kenya and before Samantha. She said bye and continued along the frozen foods section. Bison was in Pick N Pay getting the weeks groceries; her mother was older and now almost unable to come out for what was a family tradition of grocery shopping together.

Sunday shopping done, she pulled her trolley up to the car and started to unpack.

“Bison?” feet in tan leather loafers were standing beside her.

She looked up from the boot of the car.

“Chomba!”

“Need some help?” He flashed his perfect teeth.

“I am still trying to not find this a bit creepy, but did you follow me to my car?” she said handing him a few plastic bags from the trolley.

“I noticed you, again and I figured maybe parking lots are less awkward than bars?” he said. “I really am so glad to bump into you here. I saw you as I was looking for parking.”

“Potentially stalker like, but hey,” she laughed.

They packed the shopping into boot, lingered on chatting. He was extremely smart and funny, even the small talk had her not wanting to leave.

“Mmm, before the milk spoils, lemme go,” she said finally.

“Sorry to have kept you, we’ve been here a while, true,” he handed her his business card and closed the door for her.

He leaned into the window slightly. He was tall and his masculinity crowded her, making her feminine even in her converse and jeans.

“Bison, do me the honour of joining me for coffee, tea or whatever, whenever?”

She couldn’t say no. They agreed on a time and place.

She was taken by his charisma, she caught a hint of his cologne, and it was definitely something high-end intertwined with a touch of tobacco. It stayed on her for a while. She felt a familiar feeling rise within her. She thought of Ishmael briefly. Looked at the business card and smiled.

Chomba Kachiza

Assistant Liquidity Manager