Monday,February17, 2014
- Survive school
- Supper
- Help Sarfoa with homework if she has any (make sure she studies for an hour if she doesn’t)
- Study
“You’re late,” I said when Chidi pulled up in front of our gate where Sarfoa and I had been waiting. It was 7:40 a.m. Dad had already left the house. I was in a bad mood. I’d been ready at 7 a.m. Dad had left ten minutes after seven. I’d been on the verge of going to flag a taxi when Chidi appeared.
“And good morning to you too,” he said drily. “Sorry, had trouble waking up.”
I opened the door and sat down. I slammed the door hard. I hoped the window would shatter but it didn’t.
“Good morning, Chidi. How are you?” Sarfoa said entering the car.
“I’m blessed and highly favoured. How are you too?”
“I’m fine. Gyikua is angry because you’re late and now you’ve made us all late.”
“I’ll get you to school on time, I promise.” I snorted.
“How are you, Gyikua?”
I ignored him and looked out the window.
“Daddy says Gyikua is not a morning person so you should not ask her a lot of questions in the mornings,” Sarfoa said from the back seat.
“Seat belts,” Chidi said.
I ignored him, but Sarfoa buckled up.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not moving until you strap yourself in.”
The time was 7:42 a.m. His phone rang. He looked at the number and muttered something. Sarfoa started singing “Pa rum pum pum pum” along with his ringtone.
He ignored the phone, but it rang again and he picked up.
“I’m fine,” he said angrily.
He listened to what the person on the other side of the phone said. Then he sighed and said softly, “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much.”
He was quiet for a while. “I will. Thanks.”
He hung up and looked at me. I still wasn’t strapped in. The time was 7:44 a.m. I sucked my teeth. Sarfoa gasped. I ignored them both and buckled up and looked out of the window.
I was boiling. There was no way we were going to drop Sarfoa off and make it to school on time. No way. What would I do at assembly? Everyone would be seated. Everyone would see me walk up to the front pew and take my seat—people would snicker and laugh and the gossip would start again. Why hadn’t I insisted that Daddy take us to school?
Chidi chatted with Sarfoa and drove. Or rather Sarfoa told him why ‘The Little Drummer Boy’ was her best Christmas carol, and how she was going to have it as the ringtone of her phone when she was older, and how she was going to learn to play it in music class in school. She told him she could play ‘doh-ray-me’, ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, and ‘Happy Birthday to You’.
“You’re going the wrong way,” I said after Chidi exited the main road at the next turning.
“I know a short cut.”
“Look, we’re already late. Turn back and join the main road, at least the traffic there is moving. Chidi said nothing instead he took the next left turn and kept driving.
I turned to him, fuming, “Why are you so hard-headed? Do you have coal tar in your ears? What’s wrong with you? First I told you 7 a.m. You showed up at 7:41 a.m. . . .”
“I told you 7:30 a.m. I was ten minutes late. It’s not my fault you’d been waiting since 7.”
“Please do not interrupt me when I’m speaking. That’s rude. Making people wait for you is rude. Not apologising when you’re late is rude . . .”
“I did apologise.”
“I said interrupting people is rude and half-hearted attempts at apologies are rude. Deliberately refusing to take advice when other people are concerned is rude, not . . .”
Chidi pulled to a stop and shook his head. He turned to look at Sarfoa. “Is she always like this?”
“I told you she isn’t a morning person. See you later, Chidi. Bye, Gyikua,” Sarfoa said and got down.