Things That Go Bump In The Night

Once, a local newspaper reported the bizarre story of an adulterous couple that got stuck together during sex. The husband had done that to them. I dint understand how but a nerd friend of mine informed me that if during sex a woman is stressed enough her vagina will close up.

Bollocks.

That was a simple case of witchcraft. The husband confirmed it by going to a witchdoctor (n’anga) and getting them unstuck.

 It worked.

My nerd friend whispered that the perceived danger had been removed and she had no reason to fear so her vagina had loosened and let her ‘lover’ go.

I love that word, lover... it seems so lovey dovey, so yours truly innit?

Bollocks.

I digress.

 Years later when I moved towns, I heard of a man who could let you see who had stolen from you. He would lead you into an ill lit room sit you in a chair and hand you a mirror. Then the rest was all you,

“Mirror mirror in my hand, show the fiend who stole my beast/bra/phone/money/shoes.”

Lo and behold, right before your very eyes, like in a badly scripted Disney movie, lights would shoot out of the mirror, and fireworks would go off. You would get sucked into the mirror and be pulled into the scene of the theft.  You can’t touch anything though, everything is 2D and lack lustre which  gives you the feeling that you are being ripped off. Nine time out of ten the thief would be your best friend.

Made me totally distrust my best friend. Until somebody told me that, he gave these people a drink before he made them sit.

So in essence, what you got was a hallucination.

The n’anga I went to the other day, tried to convince me that that was no hallucination, and that the picture was for real.

Made me think.

 A couple of years ago some thieving fiend made away with all my shoes, save for a royal blue pair that was peeling off at the sides  and a pair of silver heels  that was coming undone. I had many a sleepless night after that night. Imagining that the burglar had come back to finish me off, I still do. Most nights I lie awake imagining all sorts of horrors.

                                 

Why just the other night, I heard him. Jangling our French door trying to get into the lounge, (my love for TV is rivalled only by my love of shoes. As quick as a cat I slid out of bed. I, am no fool however, I went to wake up L.

I tiptoe quite dramatically to her bedside and stood there watching her for a minute, one hand on my hips and the other, poised to shake her.

I poked her instead, and arms held akimbo, I waited.

She did not stir, so I poked her again and resumed my stance, (in nothing but my knickers which had no doubt been skewed by my tossing and turning) she woke... slowly.

Peeling her eyes open slowly.

At this point, I should tell you dear reader that my family is endowed with quite large eyes, as big saucers, round as tiny moons in heads of all shapes and sizes. When we open them wide, they fill our faces.

L opened hers wide (she has the biggest you see), and I stood there in silence watching her, waiting for the shadow of sleep to drop from her eyes in phases. First came the confusion, then puzzlement, then fright, and for a second she looked quite petrified and finally the annoyance when she recognised. For such a smart girl I cannot believe it took her almost a minute to recognise me.

 

“Why on earth are you standing naked beside my bed?” she demanded sitting up straight

“Someone’s trying to get in,”

“Someone’s trying to get in?”

“Yes, now they’ve stopped, listen,”

“Listen.”

“Shhhhh stop parroting me, listen they’ve stopped lets go switch on the lights in the lounge so they know we are up.’

“Now?”

“Yes now, come on.”

It took another minute to get her out of bed.

“You go first, go on I’ll cover you.”

“From what? Why can’t you go first? You are older.”

“Because,”

“Because what?”

“I’m naked.”

“No way, I’m the youngest you go first.”

“Listen L I can’t go first if he sees me like this he will be filled with lust, break in and rape me.”

“No, no, no way, I am not going first what if he attacks.”

“He won’t”

I picked up a shoe and held it in front of me, waving it about to show what I meant.

We bickered about why I got to have a weapon and she didn’t. The right answer in all these instances was that I was older.

“Why are we tiptoeing, wouldn’t it be better if we made noise and let him know we were up?’

Because I’m older

“Why are pushing me ahead, I can walk by myself,”

Because I’m older

 “Shouldn’t I be the one switching on the light since I am in front?”

Because I’m older

 “Why should I look outside? What if he sees me and punches the glass where my face is?”

Because I’m older

“Wait, why do I have to walk behind you, you said I should be in front.”

“I told you I am not dressed.”

“That’s not even a reason; you know you really need to learn to wear a nightie when you are going to bed, why do you sleep in the nude anyway?”

Because I’m older

“One of these days a thief is gonna walk in and mistake you for a witch.”

Because I’...

I was very offended, but it was true. African witches go about their business in the nude.