Read Online Season of Crimson Blossoms by Abubakar Adam Ibrahim - Free Book Online Page B

finishing up somewhere else?’
    â€˜Too much metal in my head, too many knife fights, too much weed, too much … stupidity.’ He tapped his temple with his finger. ‘Ten years is a long time. There’s too much smog in my head now, you understand.’
    When her silence, so profound, resonated with him, he glanced over his shoulder and found her with her palms over her face.
    â€˜Are you all right?’
    She could not tell him that some of her tears were for him. But that most of them, the ones gilded with reminiscence, were for Yaro. So she sniffled and wiped her face with the bed sheet. ‘You could always go back.’ Her voice was thick with remorse. ‘I went back. You could do it too. You are a man; it would be easier for you.’
    â€˜You?’
    â€˜I was taken out of school to marry a man I barely knew, Allah rest his soul. After I’d had my first two sons, I told him there was an adult education class in the neighbourhood and I wanted to join. He was reluctant at first, but I persuaded him. I studied while raising my children. I had my daughter Hureira, who is married now in Jos, and Zainab, who died at birth, and then I had Hadiza. All whilst studying for my teacher’s certificate. I was a primary school teacher for about twenty years in Jos. I had to quit when my son relocated me here.’
    He looked at her with renewed admiration. ‘ A gaishe ki , Hajiya.’ He tapped his right fist in his left palm, offering her the salutation of the ’ yan daba thugs.
    Binta threw back her head and laughed.
    He watched her laughing, and wondered what his mother’s laughter would sound like, or if she ever laughed like this. When the sheet she was holding against her bosom slipped, exposing the mounds of her breasts, he wondered why he was sexually attracted to a woman who was older than his mother.
    But whatever magic was manifesting between them at that moment was disrupted by his phone. The little device chimed and the choice of his ring tone, a rather bawdy pop song, caused him to hurriedly reach for the phone and press the receive button.
    â€˜Afternoon, sir.’ He got off the bed and moved away from Binta.
    She reached for a book on the bedside drawer and her hand fell on Az Zahabi’s The Major Sins . She withdrew her fingers, tainted by the fluids of her indiscretions, and instead put on her dress, pretending not to be listening to him muttering into the phone.
    â€˜Sir, what about these people? The new man is giving me trouble, sir. All right, sir, all right, sir.’ He shoved the phone in his pocket and started looking for his shirt. ‘I’ve got to go. My boss just called.’
    She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by noises from the gate. She knew it would be little Ummi, who always used all her might to open the side door of the gate, pushing it until it rebounded off the fence. She knew that Fa’iza would be right behind her. Binta scrambled across the bed and furtively peered through the window. Ummi entered, dragging her backpack on the ground, the front of her uniform dusty. Fa’iza strolled in behindher, swinging her hips for the benefit of a drooling audience of imaginary admirers.
    â€˜Quick, my granddaughter is back.’
    Reza found his shirt and threw it over his shoulders.
    â€˜Hurry, out the back.’ She pulled her hijab over her head and stumbled towards the door.
    â€˜My shoes are at the front.’ His alarm was conveyed not only in his voice but also in the expression on his face.
    â€˜No time.’ Binta led him out through the living room to the kitchen. She opened the back door, shoved him out and closed the door. Through the keyhole, she spied him deftly scaling the fence and disappearing into the narrow alley behind. Fa’iza was salaaming at the front door. Binta sighed, patted down her hijab and re-entered the living room in time to see the two girls entering. There were