There was something rather romantic about staring out the window, mind devoid of any sort of thoughts yet a stupid smile plastered itself right there, trying and failing at giving the illusion of thoughts. Pendo had come to thoroughly enjoy this state of being ever since she came to Nakuru and ran a bakery with Joyce.

When the clock struck nine and the morning hubbub had slowed, setting herself by the window right next to the counter was always a fantastic thing. It was in those small pockets of no thoughts that she felt the most at peace. As though her life did not feel like it was completely crumbling under her and she had no idea what to do.

Peers her age were doing wonderful things like being able to afford pampers and not having their parents on their toes asking them to go back to school. Most of them had the security in their jobs and if they did end up starting a business ala Pendo, they were probably at their successful stage. Pendo, most of the time anyways, felt as though she was experiencing life akin to that of a person in their early twenties. Still trying to figure it out and still having their parents hold their hands.

This would not have been the case had Flora, no, Sister Michael had stayed the fuck away from her. By now, she could imagine (a thing she was not supposed to do during her thoughtless time), the old sister thanking her for serving them the best kind of bread. Keeping the children from causing a hunger uprising as they had full bellies and a mental hunger to change the world.

Instead, she was sat in her thoughtless corner, looking thoughtfully out the window, eyes squinted in that way that told you plotting was occurring, as she pondered and wondered how the fuck one chucked a sister from the very obvious lead for the bread tender to a catholic school. How could one accomplish such a stupid and undoable task in a month?

As though laughing at her, the universe then decided that her thinking time was to be slashed in half by the man who Joyce had been so keen on hiding from even though he always found her.

“Where is she?” He asked as his eyes bobbed from one corner of the bakery to the other, a smile far too large for his face clear and true. Jamo was the kind of man who looked like he should have been tall but wasn't. Wide, but wasn't. Instead he had a mishmash of features that seemed to have been put here and there so that they could get the job done. He was unsettling in a way that became obvious the moment he spoke.

Pendo sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jamo. But she is spoken for. Go look for a wife elsewhere if you are not here to buy bread.”

“Aah,” Jamo said in that way that he thought was absolutely devilish, “don’t be like that. You can be my third wife, you know. We create this big, beautiful family with at least twenty children – all boys, mind, because I can always tell.” He gave a tiny salute and Pendo pursed her lips in a good combination of annoyance and disgust.  

“Barring the fact you can barely keep your butchery open and your wife happy for more than a minute, how do you anticipate to wine Joyce and I? Surely it cannot be your charming personality alone. Surely.” Pendo leaned against the counter. “Is it the looks because—”

“Stop that,” Joyce cut in, stepping from the backdoor, her eyes looking suspiciously at Pendo. “He’s a customer and we promised to be civil about it.”

Pendo’s shoulders loosened about as she turned to look at Joyce. “He’s trying to recruit wives here and I was being so nice about it or do you want to get married to a broke man-child with a face like that.” She pointed at him as though he was simply not an entity to respect. “I mean, free will and all but, dear aunt, he doesn’t even have a personality. What are we entertaining here because it surely cannot be dreams.”

Joyce looked about done with her as she turned to look at Jamo whose mouth was wide open, his eyes mirroring just the same. “What can we help you with today? Super Loaf’s out.”

His gape slowly shut as an amused look took over. He leaned against the counter, getting far too close to Pendo for her liking. Because she did not like backing down even when she was rightfully uncomfortable, she looked down at Jamo, annoyance on her face. “You talk like that and get my blood pressure all going. See,” he smiled even more, “it’s mean women that I live for. They make my world fantastic. We can work with that.”

“Jamo!” Joyce squeaked as she came to his side. “Either you buy something, or I call your mother right this instance and tell her what kind of son she has. Cheating on his wife and saying weird things to good women of society.”

Jamo stepped away from the counter, turning to face his second true love. “You can. I have told her all about you. Besides, work is going to well you might be talking to a rock. She is very proud of me right now.” He smirked. “Got the school tender I did. Supplying them with meat.”

This plucked Pendo from annoyance straight to curiosity. “How’d you manage that? You barely have enough meat for the village.”

“Got a new supplier just the other day and the school was the first one to contact me. Said yes.” He looked at the two women, face all smug. “As you can see, I have enough money to take care of three wives and our twenty children.”

Joyce bent over, reaching for her slipper as she shouted, “OUT! OUT I SAY!” throwing light slaps on a Jamo who was shielding himself from the light assault.

“WHAT ABOUT MY BREAD?”

“Should have thought about it before you said all that shit,” Pendo said behind him as she looked over, appreciating Joyce’s skill with the slipper.

As Joyce opened the door, pushing out Jamo, loud noises came right in, screaming for blood and Jesus to save a possessed man.