BENJY
The restaurant Elizabeth had picked was a quiet one. It was one of those ones that had booths that
provided the guests with privacy. Benjy arrived twenty minutes early because he wanted to pick the
right spot to have the conversation that needed to be had. Ever since he had accidentally answered
Lizzy’s call, had listened to her cuss him out for being a coward, a chop-and-go man (whatever that
meant), he had felt like his world was spinning out of his control.
As he picked an empty booth close to the back, with the menu lying on the table as if it was waiting to
be picked up and handled, Benjy felt an overwhelming desire to run away. From the restaurant, from his
life, from everything and everyone.
It reminded him of the time their mother had run away. He was twelve or thirteen at the time and had
just discovered a new feeling of dislike of his father. It was a feeling he tried to hide because surely it
had to be a sin to feel that way towards a man who had given you life.
He had stood with Ore that day watching the drama unfold as their mother tried to decide if she could
leave them. He was torn between wanting his mother with him and at the same time wanting her safe
from their father. He stood there, watched his brother take her by the arm and urge her to leave. Benjy
had felt a level of admiration for Deji in that moment. He didn’t think he would have been brave enough
to give her permission to leave because he – they – needed her. Their mother was the calm to their
father’s tempest. She never spoke ill of him even when they knew he had just ‘disciplined’ her.
“He’s your father,” was her firm response whenever Benjy started to mouth off about the man.
He wasn’t a bad person, their mother said. He was strict, a perfectionist, a disciplinarian, yes, but not a
bad person. Benjy wasn’t sure if the hitting started in the later years of his parent’s marriage or if they,
as kids, had just been oblivious to it when they were younger. If anyone had asked, he would say he
never once saw his father fly into a fit of rage and hit their mother. No, all the physical damage
happened behind closed doors.
The day their mother had run away, nothing bad had happened. It had been a fairly normal day in their
household. The World Cup was on and their father had been talking about the match all week. In a rare
burst of excitement, he’d asked his boys if they would like to go with him to the viewing centre to see
the match. Benjy had glanced at his brother, ready to follow his cue. They both didn’t enjoy spending
time with their father alone, but Benjy had noticed that Deji was more likely to say yes to an unpleasant
situation just to please their father. Even from childhood, his brother practiced diplomacy at its best.
“No sir,” Deji replied in a low voice. “I have to study for exams.”
Their father narrowed his eyes at Deji, as though trying to gauge his truthfulness. Then, he flicked his
eyes to Benjy.
“You nko?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Benjy replied with a slight puff of his chest. He decided he wasn’t going to give his father a
reason. His no was enough. No, he didn’t want to spend time with him. No.
There was beat and then their father said, “get me my newspaper from the room.”
Less than four hours later, Uncle Badmus showed up at their door asking their Mum to leave.
She left eventually, grabbing her handbag and nothing else. And that was how Benjy knew she was
coming back.
“Hey,” Lizzy’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.
Benjy looked up and was for a moment transported in time to when he first met Lizzy. Even though it
was supposed to be a business meeting, he had been struck by her beauty. She was petite and light-
skinned, the only drop of makeup on her face was the dash of nude lipstick that made her lips look good
to eat.
“Hey,” he said now, standing to – what? – give her a hug? A handshake?
She stared at him for a couple of seconds, ignoring the hand he offered, and then proceeded to sit in the
spot opposite his.
They sat in silence at first, neither unsure what to say, where to begin. One thing was for sure, she didn’t
look pregnant yet. Although, what did he know about pregnancy and the female body? When did the
woman’s body begin to change to accommodate the child? He didn’t know. But, if she was carrying his
baby, wouldn’t he feel it? Wouldn’t he know somehow that the woman opposite him was a vessel for
his child?
The waiter, a young man with an apron hanging off his hips stopped by their table.
“And have we decided what we would be having?” he asked in a cheery voice.
Benjy hated the way he said ‘we’, as if they were all in this together, as if ‘we’ included the unborn child
that had taken up space in the room.
“Can I just get a water, first, please?” Lizzy said.
Benjy remembered that he liked her voice too; the way its ‘bigness’ belied her petiteness. It was like
that saying “big things come in small jars” or whatever it was people said.
“Sure, water it is. And you, sir?”
“Same,” he said. He wasn’t hungry. He had come here on a mission and needed to focus so water was a
great choice.
The waiter hurried away leaving them to their doomed silence.
“So…” he began, after the waiter returned with their water and he had taken a huge gulp.
“I thought you were a decent person, Benjy,” she said, finally. “I mean I wasn’t asking for the world, just
more of you and you just…you ghosted me like I was nobody.”
What? His ghosting? Was that what this whole charade was about? Had she pretended to be pregnant
to draw him out, to confront him?
“Wait, Liz. Is that what this is about? Are you really pregnant or are you just acting like a woman
scorned?” he asked.
She eyed him, then fished in her bag and took out a white envelope, placing it on the table between
them.
“See for yourself,” she said. “Also, don’t flatter yourself. You’re not the kind of man I would trick into
having a baby with me.”
Her words hit him, but he was too busy emptying the contents of the white envelope to respond.
And there it was, the result of her blood tests.
“But how? How did this happen? I’ve always been so careful,” he moaned, his head falling into his
hands.
“Spare me your theatrics, Benjy. I assume they taught you in Biology class that when two adults have
sex…a child could happen.”
“Well, it’s never happened before so I don’t understand why it’s happening now. I didn’t do anything
different.”
“Oh, and I did? I was so desperate to have your child, to become a baby mama that I what? I planned an
elaborate scam to trap you?”
He didn’t answer because hadn’t that been exactly what he thought? That she was trying to trap him? It
was a stupid thought, he realized but people did stupid things sometimes, didn’t they?
“Oh my God,” she said. “You think too highly of yourself. Tell me, what do you think makes you a catch?
You who uses women and dumps them like they are nothing? You who can’t seem to take responsibility
for your mistakes.”
“I didn’t dump you.”
“No, you just slept with me and then ignored my calls and texts.”
“I didn’t sleep with you. We slept together. Big difference. Don’t make it sound like it wasn’t something
we mutually agreed on. And anyway, why are we talking about that right now? Shouldn’t we be trying to
figure out what to do next with this…with your…with the…”
“Pregnancy, that’s what it’s called. Again, your biology teacher didn’t do right by you.”
“Okay, I deserve the insults, Liz, but insulting me isn’t going to help us figure out this situation,” he said.
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Oh finally, a we.”
“Liz, please.”
She pursed her lips then, looking away into the empty restaurant.
“What you don’t realise,” she said in a trembling voice, “is that my life has changed even more than
yours. You have no idea how it felt to find out this. How it derails my life, my plans, my reputation. You
have made it all about you that you don’t even see what it’s doing to me.”
Benjy looked at her then, not at how beautiful she was in the dim golden lights, but at the soft panic in
her eyes and the quiver in her hands.
He had never been the sensitive kind, and perhaps he had trained himself that way – to not see beyond
what he was looking at, beyond what he wanted to see. Did that make him like his father? Was he cruel
in a different kind of way?
He reached out and let his fingers graze hers where it sat on the table.
“Then let’s not let it derail your life,” he said.
Her eyes watered as she looked at him, “what are you saying?”
“You know what I’m saying, Liz. There’s a way out of this, perhaps we should consider it,” he said. “For
your sake.”
