If asked, Pendo supposed, Flora had a face. It was a face that did face things like look about, smell all things in that disgusted way she did and sneered right down to hell. One would have remarked of it as somewhat remarkable the longer you stared at it but that person was surely not Pendo. She had taken it upon herself not to visually appraise anything that was Flora.
While unfiltered rage was what mostly came to Pendo anytime Flora Wakio appeared, a sentiment she held dear to her heart, she was in absolute perplex the moment their eyes met. Yes, they had mysteriously run into each other in a hovel of a town that should have been almost impossible. This should have counted for all the perplexing but, the most perplexing of all was that Flora had muscles.
She was also in a habit but that did little to supersede the muscles.
Flora’s eyes had narrowed her way and so Pendo’s obliged her the same. She could not conceive that there was a time in her crooked past where she had thought to make peace with that woman.
Pointing her nose to the sky, Flora turned away from Pendo, walking for the barkeep’s area with determination that had no business being at one with a Sister. In what world, she wondered, did a Sister simply walk into a bar if not those horrendous comedy shows? Still looking after her, she sat over a tall stool without much effort and she raised her hand, prompting the barkeep her way. She said something and from the smile she could see on the barkeep, she assumed it was something dastardly like she had biscuits in her pocket and she was willing to share.
In less time that it had taken for Pendo to get her Pilsner, Flora was handed a bottle of Tusker and she drunk it akin to a man who had known thirst in ways no one else ever could conceive. She was such a show off! After all this time and nothing had changed?
Fuck her!
Pendo’s phone buzzed. She had been slow to pulling her eyes away from Flora as she slid the green button and put the phone to her ear.
“What?” She had never been known for phone etiquette yet everyone who ever called was shocked whenever she answered.
“Don’t talk to your aunt like that!” She heard Joyce squeal on the other side. “Do you want a curse?”
“A year younger,” she answered, head tilting slowly to the side she tried to see if she could get a proper glimpse of the devil. “How many times do I have to remind you? I’m the one who can curse you.”
“I’m the aunt.”
“And I have experienced this life thing longer than you have.” Flora had placed the bottle on the counter, ignoring the coaster. Pendo couldn’t help but smile. It was the little things that reminded her how loathsome she truly was. “What do you want?”
“When are you coming home?”
Pendo sighed and took a large gulp of her Pilsner. “See, this is what we talked about last week. You can’t keep on doing this.”
“Look,” Pendo could practically predict a step by step of what her aunt was doing, “your mom, my sister,” she was on her feet, moving back and forth, “told me that if a hair is lost to you,” her hand was most probably on her hair, touching just in case, “I am to disappear and join a terrorist group because they are probably the only people who can help me.”
“Now,” she placed her empty bottle on the table, eyes still trained on Flora, “how is that my problem?”
“I’ll tell your mom that you don’t follow curfew.”
It was the first time since Flora had stepped into the bar that she had looked away, resting her head on her hand as she closed her eyes and sighed in annoyance that was borderline tire. “I am a thirty-year-old woman, dear aunt. I don’t fucking operate on curfews.”
“But we agreed. We agreed that we are going to be up early in the morning.”
“Aye, for the meeting. I remember.”
“And we can’t be late. Not even by a minute. This is our big break.”
Pendo pulled away from her hand and turned to look at where Flora was still sat. Her back was straight, her bottle only half nursed. “I know this. What are you getting at?”
“Well,” it was easy to imagine Joyce fisting at her dress whenever she tried to set her foot down with Pendo, “when you go out drinking, you never wake up early no matter how much I push you to and I am scared this time it is going to be much the same.”
Pendo wondered if there was a nunnery of devil worshippers because she could not grasp the idea of a Christian one taking in Flora. Then again, they are Catholics so she knew first hand... “This time I have something to lose so, don’t worry. I will get up early.” Having decided that was the end of the call, she hung up on Joyce, pocketed the phone and got up to her feet, taking the empty bottle with her.
She made for the keep and placed the bottle on an empty coaster – loud enough such that it should have attracted the attention of Flora. She, much like other patrons, needed to understand how coasters were used. “Another,” she told the barkeep as she missed, jumped and huffed until she was sat rather uncomfortably on a stool, hoping Flora had seen nothing.
“Still close to hell, I see,” Flora said.
She sounded just as she did, ten years ago. All haughty and as though she was the richest person in the room. With her tenor and perfect Nairobi accent. And just like always, it had inspired Pendo’s primal need to want to jump her, to remind her who was in-charge.
“You think I won’t fight you because you are dressed like a Sister?” she asked turning to face Flora. “What freemason has a Sister Order?”
Her hand gripped at her bottle hard, her arm muscles flexing once, no, twice. It was a fascinating thing that Pendo didn’t want to dwell on too much. Weren’t sisters supposed to be all infirm and shit? Why was she allowed muscles? Wasn’t it common knowledge that Sisters weren’t allowed any sort of vanity?
A forced laugh escaped Flora. “After all this time, that the best you can do?”
Pendo got her second bottle on the night and with a smile, she placed it on her mouth, chugging to halfway in one go. “Got you twitching though so I’d say I have held up pretty well.”
“Look,” said Flora, “I’m here for a drink, okay? Leave me alone.”
Somewhere deep inside Pendo, she felt offense. She was not someone you simply dismissed like a child! Yet, she imagined that, for old times sake, she should save her own sanity for another day. Besides, she had a meeting in the morning, and she didn’t want to hear Joyce screeching about, talking about being right.
She finished the contents of her bottle, paid for it and left the bar without giving Flora one last acknowledgement.
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