muiruri

His hands were shaking, not as a result of fear but as a result of guilt. His father had once told him that there was no greater burden to the soul as that of a truth gnawing at ones conscience. He trusted his father for he was the kind of man to know. Sitting there, the truth was not just gnawing, it was gobbling at his insides. Biting down and ripping apart his core and making mince of him.

“I can’t hide it.”

“What was that, sir?”

It’s not right; I can’t keep it hidden forever,”

“Sorry sir, I didn’t catch that,”

He looked up catching a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror. He looked pale, precipitation glistening on his forehead and his eyes were bloodshot. His collar was drenched in sweat. He had all the symptom of one who had been sleep depraved for a long time.  For a moment he did not recognize the image that looked back at him. He then tried to shift his focus to the driver but all he managed was a more dazed look.

“Excuse me sir, are you okay?” the taxi drivers voice came, seeming as though it drifted from some distant place.

“Ah! Umm  ye….yes, I am,” he responded. But his voice felt a bit surreal too. He cleared his throat but it brought him no relief.

The driver, having pulled up at a red light, shifted a bit in his seat to give his client a better look. His facial features seemed quite inquisitive, as though he might pry. He began to speak, paused, gave his client on last look then turned to look ahead. He let a few matatus swerve by and before he eased his foot off the brake.  He took a few turns before he turned into the hotel parking lot. The valet ushered him to an ideal parking spot.

“Sir, “he said quite formally, “we are here”

Muiruri looked up again, a bit dazed by the statement then looked around as if gaining his bearings again. He slipped a handkerchief from his coat’s breast pocket and mopped his face.

“Sir, the fare. You did ask me to get you to The Hilton, we are here,” the driver added looking at him through the rear view mirror.

Muiruri nodded, recognizing were he was for the first time during that entire day, he dipped his hand into his coat pocket, fished out a rather thick wad of notes, and passed them to the driver. He ignored the drivers puzzled look as he got out of the care and tried to straighten his tie.

“sir, my fare was only two thousand shilling. The extra cash is unnecessary,” the driver said as he handed him the extra money. “Free advice, get whatever is drowning your conscience out before it drowns you too, and get some rest too.

Muiruri stood, taken aback, not by the man’s blunt truth, but by his honesty. It was as impossible to find an honest taxi driver in Nairobi as it was to find a leper in parliament. He watched with a mixture of envy and amazement as the driver pulled out of the parking spot and drove off. Would he ever be so unburdened in his entire life? He seriously doubted it.

He turned to face the entrance. For a split second, he mulled the idea of walking in the opposite direction.  Perhaps even walking to the ends of the earth, but his resolve would fail him. That was the only thing he was always certain of. Precipitation was thick on his face, and his throat feeling a lot drier than the Sahara. He tugged at his collar and swallowed hard. “What was it that would put him down first?”  he wondered.

As soon as he walked in to the lobby, he saw her. Elegantly dressed in a rather fetching skirt suit that emphasized her long, shapely legs. She had a very business like air about her. That was rather deceptive given that she was shrewd as she was seductive, both in the high extremes. She had said her name was Amanda, though he doubted it deeply at the moment.

“I was beginning to think you had grown a conscience,” she said, standing up and giving a him a short, curt shake. “You look like hell by the way, and smell of it too.”

“Now you pretend to care you little bitch.” He felt the rage in him froth and hit the brim of heart. He detested the fact that she was right. He did have the smell of sweat and beer linger heavily around him  

“Careful now, I am the one with all the cards, and you are the one standing with your pants down. You ought to have known better, being a veteran at this.”

Again, she was right. He should have been wiser than to trust her. Wiser not to jump into bed with her, while he was married. And wiser not to have made the world and the moon of her every word. Now all he was, all he could be was done for. He bit his lower lip just at the mere thought that he had been played and had spilled all his beans for the world to see.

“Let us get some place more private, the cafeteria perhaps, “she said, not so much as a suggestion but a command. He watched her walk ahead of him and thought of all sorts of ungodly things he would have done to her earlier. Before they were pleasurable, right now, he wished he could hurt her. He felt worse when he noted that he still admired her body. Doubly worse when remembered she had every intention of throwing him under the bus and putting it in gear.

As they walked in, he saw his wife seated at on of the table at the back. Her facial features stern. Her demeanor composed but her eyes ablaze. His throat clumped up as he discovered his little bag of secrets had begun to leak. Amanda gave him a devilish simile. She was enjoying every bit of this. Muiruri let his gaze fall to the floor. He had been thoroughly ungrateful towards her, he supposed he had lost her this time. She would bear all his flaws and follies, however, she would never condone infidelity. Not once. Her promise to destroy him if she ever caught a whiff of it had been as clear as day. No idle threats came from her, and now, with Amanda, this was Armageddon.