Moving on
After being nudged to the seamier side of life, Opula’s ordeal at the court made the rounds in Lagos. Her face, Sen Madu’s and Nku’s grazed the front page of Legal Daily and other newspapers for a while. She was soon tagged the emotional lawyer and given appropriate recognition at the bar and streets. In that light Legal Daily resurrected back to what it was. Azuaka Jnr was fascinated to make megabucks everyday and regain his fan-load. Opula held office as the editor-in-chief; threw her fearand pressure under feet and published vulture stories. Azuaka Jnr still nurtured fear and kept hiding in her feathers.She scavenged for a new life after being jilted by Nku; relocating to the media home and being an ambulance chaser got her busy. Nothing could be more interesting than Azuaka Jnr driving on the streets of Lagos, watching Opula controlling a scene of a rich boy who burst bottle on the head of a Gala hawker. In like cases, she sued the rich to treat the poor victim, with reserves of megabucks for herself. And at night she would be a nocturnal editor, outlining vulture stories for the next day. Azuaka Jnr would serve her hot Cappuccino but would come at dawn to see the coffee untouched. Being an ambulance chaser was getting more tedious and risky, and then she got herself a licensed short gun and became more radical; after coming back with the awful face of a street lawyer she would convince Azuaka to relax in his bed while she blazed the gun in the air to scare away assassins. Traces of the fear that haunted Azuaka started confronting her; with the vulture stories she published and the daily threats from opposing clients. But she was irresistible, especially with her gun close and her bible closer. Her philosophy had been ‘any of her enemies that misunderstood the message of the bible wouldn’t misunderstand that of the gun. She pasted it on her desk and door post.
In one of the nights as Azuaka Jnr sat to his chilled beer, puffing cigar at the dark edge of the balcony, his phone buzzed. Aku’s voice broke on the other end. Azuaka could feel her voice shaking with emotion. Before bedtime, he hinted Opula that Aku was in her summer vacation in London and was ready to empty her pensive mood to Legal Daily over herhusband’s scandal. She summoned only Azuaka to London for a low-key interview. But Azuaka disobeyed for the sake of love; he went along with Opula.
It was early summer when Azuaka and Opula flew to London. Right in her luxurious detached house on Mallord Street, Azuaka Jnr and Aku sat to two Starbucks. But the interview took a turning point; Azuaka seemed tobe on the answering end.
“Do you think my husband did it? Did he abuse Nku? Or are they in love?” she asked shortly after having a lipful of a fresh cigar with smoke that billowed against the wind. Azuaka Jnr sensed nothing than the perturbation of a voluptuous, beautiful woman who had been caricatured as wife to a gay. But he welcomed her respect for the media and how she believed the media were good harvesters of facts even if it be about the last fish which was eaten by the rat in her kitchen. Alas, invidious, perhaps irredeemably, Azuaka Jnr agreed within himself that she was really fasting for such facts before she would hammer some nails into the skulls of her offenders. He wished Opula wasn’t on her black list because of the curses she rendered on Opula which brought the interview to an abrupt end.
“That nitwit, deuced lawyer chickened out because she knew my husband was innocent. I would love to know the size of her neck before strangling her.” Her anger feasted on her shaky hands while she spoke to Azuaka Jnr. The time needed to answer her delicate questions was used to calm her down and he fancied it.
She stole a covert glance at him across the table and said, “I hope you have a place to stay. See, my house is bigger than Wembley Stadium and my room is wide enough for us to run around. I hope you don’t mind crashing in it tonight,” she urged.
Azuaka Jnr was beaten by his pounding heart and ticking brain. His eyebrow grew longer at her beautiful white teeth beneath thick apple-lips; bust that slackly parted her AdidasT-shirt and spotless, expensive, meaty thighs in striped bumshort. He really wanted to wake next to her mountain but recently Opula had changed his DNA strands. Hethoughtfully disagreed to be the pipe through which she would flush away her pains and loneliness. Something underneath her sunglasses convinced him her untapped strength could keep him in bed throughout the summer.
She didn’t hesitate for a moment about unveiling her feeling. “Take it straight,” she said, breathing heavily with an upward pop of her bust. “Something isn’t complete around my waist. I need some help. I hear you journalist tour the world for news and sex. Let’s make tonight suffer for the cold effect she has treated me with. I need you to write your next article on my body.” Her eyeballs rolled from edge to edge, charming Azuaka Jnr for a quick reply.
Her victim stared at her with unwillingness yet her beautiful mountain appealed to him. He ate her up with his stare and wished he could have her for dinner without dessert.
Disappointed, she stood up, picked up her Cappuccino cup, walked to the blue pool, stripped like a geisha girl and immersed gently like a duck. Azuaka Jnr could barely blink at her floating buttocks which waggled like London Bridge; indeed something was incomplete around her waist, he thought. Perhaps, her waists-nut had lost its way into Sen. Madu’s hands, which he might have screwed into Nku’s rigid waist. He saw much of her long, wet, dark hair, which sagged to her naked shoulder, fragile back and touch-it thighs that disturbed the current of the pool. Satisfied, he blinked his eyes, dusted his buttocks and headed the road to his hotel.