Chapter Nine

Henry Johnson had to continue with his schooling though he knew that he was no long the carefree guy he used to be; he now had a lot of responsibilities resting on his shoulders. He had tried to beg off, but Rosalie reminded him that all his life he’d had everything easy, that now was the time for him to make his bones in the family; he had to show that he was strong enough and ruthless enough to take over the family business when the time came for him to handle it. And so, every Friday afternoon, after his lectures, he’d drive down to the family house in VI from his rented two-bedroom flat off the main campus gates in Akoka Yaba, in the Lagos Mainland, and then get himself immersed in the business, attending meetings and signing documents and brainstorming with the marketing team.

He knew that his mother had her list of the potential candidates of his would-be wife ready with her. He was very close to her, but he could not possibly divulge to her that he was gay－ the ravishing ex-beauty queen would definitely freak out, and so he had to live this secret burden. There were cute athletic men everywhere on campus, guys with very hard bodies and beautiful packages under their shorts which he often glimpsed. He was a very athletic guy and so was well known for his prowess in the sporting arena, so he moved with the ‘boys’ and was thus subjected to the humiliation of looking at their bodies without touching them, and even touching them without daring to fondle them in the way he’d have wanted to.

He wanted nothing more than to have one of them as a permanent fixture in his sex life, but he dared not reach out to any of them for the fear of rejection. It was true that they all played together, drank together, even showered together after their sporting activities, but they were all beyond reach; so close, yet, so far away. And he kept on wondering about what it would be like for him to take one penis and put it into his mouth－ what would it taste like? How would the other guy feel?

What made matters worse was the fact that he was from a rich family, and that he was the only son of the well-known Rosalie, and he’d inherited her stunning physical looks, so the girls flocked to him in droves. He tolerated them with an amused indulgence and carefully veiled contempt. Sexually, he wanted to have absolutely nothing to do with any of them at all. Their sexy bodies, low cut bodices, perfectly rounded butts, alongside their feminine allure, did not turn him on in the least. If anything, he felt disgusted at the thought of having even anything slightly sexual to do with any of them.

One day, tired after the grueling but very necessary hectic schedule Rosalie subjected him to whenever he came home during the weekends, he went to visit his closest friend Richard. The guy was always dressed in very skimpy nothing briefs that hugged his manhood tightly whenever he was at home, and so Henry had his view of what the guy had to offer, making him to crave the beautiful dancer he’d met at the Drummer Club passionately once again.

‘Let’s go clubbing tonight,’ he told Richard on a sudden impulse.

Richard laughed. ‘Is it to the Drummer Club? But it’s far from here, and I think it must be because of that dancer with those snakes of his that you seem anxious to go back and see him. I keep on thinking to myself that one day those snakes are going to bite him or squeeze his body to death.’

‘We’re going there tonight,’ was all Henry deemed necessary to say, for he knew that his friend needed very little or no conviction to get him to do what Henry wanted. Besides that, they had just finished their semester exams that afternoon and everybody needed the time to unwind and relax after the all-nighters and cramming.

Later that night, they drove out to Victoria Island, to the club.

It was a Friday night, and the strippers, the whores, and those seeking fun were out in full force. The white wine, the beer, the hard liquor, and even the sex at the club came at a ridiculously expensive price; that was to be expected as the main aim of the club was to keep low-lifers out of its plush interior. There was no definite report on the amount of sexual coupling, but the smell of hard sex and semen seemed to drip into the hallways, along with the smell of expensive perfumes.

The men and the women were all drinking and talking, watching the nubile female strippers perform as they all waited for the stunningly beautiful effeminate dancer to make his appearance and dazzle them with the spectacle of his snakes. However, the young guy did not appear. Rather, the more audacious female strippers were out in force, and for the money that was being pelted at them, they stripped and danced and stripped some more as the money kept on coming until they were naked. The men were hooting and screaming for more, gripping the edge of their seats, while some of them had to flee to the private urinals and masturbate, get the load off before they raped someone there in the main entertainment parlor.

‘Is our dancer not coming tonight?’ Henry demanded impatiently, though he feigned nonchalance. ‘Why is he not here tonight?’

Richard slid out from their table to go and make the necessary enquiries. Five minutes later, he was back to the table with two scantily dressed young women who smelled of cheap perfume and cigarettes that were to join them at the table.

‘The rumor is that the guy is gone, some say, for good,’ he explained. ‘He left here weeks ago, and even the manager doesn’t know what became of him. However, he left some gifts for his loyal fans to remember him by.’ He pulled a brown envelope from his pocket and dropped it to the table. ‘By the way, those pictures are expensive.’

Without another word, Henry took the envelope and slunk out of the club, ignoring the entreaties of his friend that he stay back with him and the girls with their slinky bodies. Thankfully, they were in VI, so it was not difficult for him to get a cab to take him down to their family home. He had locked up his room, because he knew that he may not be returning there for some time, so there was no need for him to go back to it.

He was furious that in spite of the fact that he was very rich and could have anybody he wanted; that he couldn’t get the one thing he really wanted.  He had come to terms with his homosexuality some time ago, though for a very long time before then he’d been in denial of it, and even now, he had not totally accepted it. He remembered the news article he’d read, about two men that had been caught having sex in a motel room at Mile 2, and one of the men, the fast one, had fled out through the window; the other, not so fast, had been caught and beaten so severely that he’d died a few days later in the hospital. The other, a man of affluent means, had fled the country and sought for asylum in the UK, and he’d never returned.

Henry did not want to become a fugitive in his own country where he had so many assets that had been bequeathed to him in his father’s last will and testament. He had no brothers or sisters that would take over the wealth should anything happen to him, and it would surely break his mother’s heart if it was to be discovered that he was a homo and was on the run from the hands of homophobes who were out to get him.

When he got home, he went straight to bed and slept till eight the following Saturday morning. Then he went about his bathroom duties before he went down to see his mother. And there she was; the epitome of beauty, forever trim, forever beautiful, and he couldn’t help but smile as he thought how they were so like two friends than like mother and son.

‘It’s so nice to have you back here with us,’ Rosalie said as she turned the fashion magazine she’d been looking at closed and beckoned at him with one long-nailed finger to some and sit with her. ‘There is something I would like for us to discuss.’ She smiled with the sweetness of honey. ‘It’s about those girls that I told you about. It is time for you to meet them and make your choice.’

‘How many girls do you have on your list?’ he asked, and there was a sickening feeling of dread in his stomach about the plans she’d undoubtedly set in motion.

Rosalie flashed her winning smile, her jewels flashing as she flipped a lock of hair from her flawless face. Her eyes shone with the light of unconcealed excitement. ‘I have seven girls on the list. They’re from families that are not as affluent as ours, or else they’ll be more unavailable to you. And you know that we don’t have much time on our hands. I’ll be inviting the girls over for a little get-together here so you’ll finger the one you want. Just like that, and it’ll be all over. See you later.’ And with that, she stood up, went out to the garage, and then zoomed off in her glittering black Bentley coupe.

Henry went back into his room, locked the door, and then he took out the picture of Phoenix that Richard had given to him. He stared at it, his fingers stroking the smooth surface; it was a picture of the dancer, and he lay back on a thick velvet material, stark naked, his face turned up to the camera, an enigmatic smile on his lips. There were snakes on his chest and his stomach, with one strategically placed on his crotch, and he looked so preternaturally beautiful, it almost hurt Henry’s eyes to look at it.

Henry felt the rush of hot tears flow down his lids, running down his cheeks as he felt his manhood hardening with desire. But there was nothing he could do about the fire that was burning in him, and so he steeled himself, and the following day he had to play dress-up to meet the silly, simpering fools his mother had lined up for his scrutiny. It looked like a small party, and the girls had come with their parents of course. Rosalie stayed beside him, all smiles, and he knew that he had to choose. He hated them all.

Then he saw the most beautiful girl of the group, Fiona Davis, but from what he gathered from his mother she was also the poorest of them all, and it was obvious to him that his mother did not like the girl.

When she saw the two of them together talking about sports, she came over instantly, an icy smile on her painted red lips. She told Fiona to go over to her parents; that maybe they wanted to see her, and then when the girl had left, she turned to her son and said, ‘That girl is athletic and very good, but I seriously don’t like her background. But she has a good head on her shoulders.’

Henry frowned at the cryptic remark, his head turning to stare at the pretty petite girl that was heading in the other direction. ‘Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?’ he asked, slightly annoyed when she patted his arm and flashed him one of her famous smiles.

‘Well, I never said it wasn’t!’ she said pleasantly, waving one bejeweled hand dismissively. ‘Fiona is a very fine young woman of course, but I have others in mind for you. Now there’s Yvonne over there, for instance. . .’

But Henry was no longer listening to her ranting because, over the past one hour, he’d analyzed the girls that had been playing their mating dance around him; he’d analyzed them as if they were fish on display for sale, as they were indeed, and he was the potential buyer. They were trying so hard to please, and it was obvious that they knew why they were here today. They did not even like him; they just wanted to be associated with the Johnson family money. Even the Yvonne girl his mother was talking about was acting like a dog on a leash, all so eager to please. But the petite Fiona stood out from them, a nice gentle girl who had taken genuine interest in him and had not tried to shower him with cheap flattery and praise.

He turned to Rosalie. ‘I choose Fiona,’ he told her quietly, so only she could hear him, and she opened her mouth to speak, but there was finality in his tones and that silenced her, brooking no arguments from her. And he was glad when she looked away from him with a small nod of acknowledgment of his choice.

What he did not know was that Fiona was really the girl Rosalie wanted for him. She knew the history of each of the girls she had brought to her house that day, down to the hairs they all had on their private parts. She knew that her son had made the right choice. Yvonne was a slutty little whore who had done three abortions; Fiona would give her only son the kids he so rightly deserved and help to dispel the restlessness she sensed in him.

All the other girls were little bitches with little or no morals in their bones.

Fiona was the obvious choice.

Now what she had to do was get her son married to the girl.