Two Ships

Herieth-Paul2Ife saw him waiting for the elevator.  She tried not to make it obvious that she was watching him as she pushed the cart down the hallway.  She knew he was in no. 406, the Royal suite.  He was very handsome and a sharp dresser.  He must be rich, she thought.  This was a 5-star hotel he was staying in.

He was looking straight ahead and appeared to be in deep thought.  He didn’t notice her and when the elevator doors opened, he went inside.  After they closed behind him, she continued down the hallway to the different suites she still had to clean.  When she got to his, she looked around.  It was in impeccable order.  The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in.  Out of all the suites on this floor, his was the one she didn’t mind cleaning.

As she got to work, she wondered how long he was staying in Kampala this time.  The last time it was for two weeks and the time before that, three.  He wasn’t the first Japanese businessman she had seen in the hotel or in Kampala.  More and more Japanese were flocking to the city to live, holiday or set up businesses.  Was he planning to live here or to set up a business?  What about his family?  Did he have a wife and children?  He looked young–in his mid to late thirties.

Well, it was none of her business.  A man like him would not be interested in her–a single mother working as a maid in a fancy hotel and living in a run-down neighborhood.  And they were from different cultures.  No, she would be better off finding and marrying a decent Ugandan man who wouldn’t mind being a step-father to her daughter.

Toshiro leaned against the tree, looking up at the hotel.  She was probably in his suite 62_ac32e335-d1d8-4e7c-bffa-e98b58858fd7now.  He knew that she was watching him as he waited for the elevator.  He could feel her eyes on him.  He appeared not to have noticed or acknowledged her but he had.   The temptation to look at her was very strong but he resisted.  She could be married for all he knew and he was in a relationship.

To be honest, he was staying at this hotel because of her.  The first time he saw her was last year when they passed each other in the hallway.   Their eyes met and held for a long time before she lowered hers.   Since then, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her or wanting to see her again.  Perhaps, one of these days, he would say hello to her.  There was no harm in that, was there?

Just then a taxi pulled up in front of the hotel’s entrance.  He glanced at his watch.  It was time to go to the meeting.  Moving away from the tree, he hurried over to the taxi and climbed.   As it drove off, he glanced up at the fourth floor.  Hopefully, he would see her again tomorrow.

This is a prequel to Ife’s Toilet Crisis.

Chalise

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I’ve tried to get every single memory of you out of my mind but it is like trying not to breathe.  You are all I think about.  Yours is the only face I see or want to see.  You are my past but I still want you to be my present and my future.  This is bloody pathetic, isn’t it?  I have an incredible woman in my life and I’m still hung up on you.

How is this fair to Vanessa?  She’s such a beautiful and amazing woman.  We met two years after you and I broke up.  I wasn’t looking for anything.  The last thing I wanted was to get into another relationship because I was such a wreck.

Before Vanessa, I tried to forget you with other women but that didn’t work.  I tried getting loaded but that didn’t work either and I’ve seen what alcohol did to my father.  I didn’t want to end up like him.  I traveled all over the place, trying to lose myself in the different cultures but that didn’t work either.  No matter what I did, I couldn’t wipe you, your face, your voice, your smell and the feel of you out of my memory.

Then, I met Vanessa and at first, being with her made me feel like a condemned prisoner who had just been pardoned.  For a while, she helped me to forget but then, I heard it–our song.  The song that we used to like to play in the background whenever we made love.  Hearing it again after all that time brought back memories I would rather forget and a longing that I had managed to suppress.  Everything began to unravel and I found myself thinking about you again and longing to be with you.  Vanessa could no longer save me from you or myself.  How can I look her in the face and tell her that I don’t love her?  That I never did?  That I had fooled her and myself into thinking that I did?

I have to face the truth.  I’m still in love with you and I will love you until the day I die.  If you were to tell me now that you want to get back together with me, I would dump Vanessa in a heartbeat.  I know that you’re not dating anyone.  I ask our friends about you.  I can tell that they feel sorry for me.  They think I’m pathetic but I don’t care.  I’m relieved that you’re not dating anyone.  The mere thought of you with another man makes me crazy.   You belong to me, Chalise, just as I belong to you.  Just say the word, and I will come running.  We belong together.  We can make it work this time.  Just say the word.

I just got your text.  My heart is racing.  You want us to hook up this evening at your 725EF-7B72-2D47-7D11-2457E4FE899Aplace.  I can’t wait to see you, Chalise.  My arms ache to hold you and my body yearns to feel yours against it.   I know I’m being a bloody fool but I can’t help it.  Love does crazy things to people and I’m no exception.

I’m supposed to see Vanessa later but I’ll tell her that something urgent came up and I’ll see her tomorrow.  Tomorrow I will break up with her.  She deserves to be with a man who loves her and not me, a man who’s hung up on his ex.  I hope that after this evening, you won’t be my ex anymore but my woman again.    I believe that if two people are meant to be together, eventually they will find their way back to each other.  That’s you and me, Babe.

 

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, Memory.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Source:  Heartfelt Quotes

 

 

A New Experience

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

My family and I drive past it every day on our way to drop our son to school. It’s a beautiful old building in a quiet neighborhood. I’ve often wondered what it looks like inside.

I recently learned that the word synagogue comes from the Greek word for gathering together. It can be a house of prayer, of learning or a meeting place.  It’s a place where people of shared faith feel at home.

I have a Jewish friend. I wonder if she wouldn’t mind me tagging along one Saturday. I want to experience what their worship service is like.

100 Words

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  BBC

Mr. Thornhill

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I work at Mr. Thornhill’s Mill. I been working there since I was little and me Ma before me. Me sisters as soon as they’re old enough, they’ll work here too. It’s not bad, to be honest. It’s hard work but Mr. Thornhill’s a fair man and he treats us well enough.

Sometimes, he comes in here and walks about, inspecting our work. He’s tall and very handsome. I’m sweet on him. Ma tells me to remember meself. She said a gentleman like Mr. Thornhill wouldn’t set his cap for me. She’s wrong. The bairn growing inside me proves that.

 

100 Words

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Role-Play

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My name is Ezra and I’m an Angolan woman married to Francisco, a Portuguese businessman.  We have been married for ten years.  We have two children, a boy named Bento and a girl named Mafalda.  We live in Luanda.  During the week, I’m at home alone because Rodrigo is at the office and the children are in school.  I’m a housewife and I love it.  I love taking care of my family.

From the time I was seven years old, I knew that I wanted to be a homemaker when I was older.  My mother, God bless her soul, was my inspiration.  I watched her work tirelessly and happily to take care of the home, my father, my siblings and me.  When I was old enough, I helped around the house.  She taught me how to cook and keep a clean house.  She told me that one day I would be a wife and it was best to start learning how to do things as early as possible.  Sadly, she didn’t live to see me get married or hold her grandchildren.  My father and my siblings were at my wedding.  They were happy for me and warmly welcomed Rodrigo into the family.  They weren’t upset that I married a European man instead of an African man.

Rodrigo and I met when I was working as a cook at a restaurant owned by a family friend.  He came in there one day to have lunch with a client.  After having my Fish Calulu, he wanted to meet me to personally compliment me on the dish.  Feeling a little self-conscious after being in the hot kitchen all morning and not having enough time to fix myself up, I went into the dining-room.  He stood up as I approached.  He was tall and very attractive in his expensive looking grey suit.  I was immediately attracted to him.  He smiled and said in Portuguese, “I wanted to personally tell how much I enjoyed the Fish Calulu.  It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

I smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

His client had left so we were alone.  “My name is Rodrigo,” he said, extending his large hand.  I looked at it before placing my hand in it.  The long fingers closed over mine in a firm handshake.

“I’m Ezra.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.  I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

I gulped.  He was asking me out on a date.  I could hardly believe it.  It took a moment for me to say, “Yes.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you here at eight.  “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  I watched him leave and then returned to the kitchen.

The following night we went for dinner at a popular Portuguese restaurant.  Afterwards, we went for a drive.  We saw each other regularly after that and the following year, we got married.  I quit my job at the restaurant after learning that I was pregnant with Bento.

Life with Rodrigo ideal.  Our sex life is amazing  and sometimes, we indulge in role play which add a little spice to the marriage.  Lately, I have been dressing up as a slave girl while he pretends to be my slave master.   But this is happening way too often.  He wants to do it for every lovemaking session.

Last night, he pulled my dress down about my waist and turned me around so that my bare back was to him and had me hug the bedpost.  He got the whip he had bought from one of those sex stores and started to use it on me.  It didn’t hurt but Rodrigo wanted me to pretend that it did.  When he was done, he dragged the dress off and threw me down on the bed.  I lay there while he ravaged me, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  What had started out as harmless fun had become something I dreaded and desperately wanted to stop.  I wanted to be his wife and lover again not his slave.

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, staring out at the window.  I have made up my mind to tell Rodrigo that I’m not going to be his slave in the bedroom anymore.  And if he cares about me and our marriage, he will respect my wishes.  Worst case scenario, I will pack up and leave.  And of course, take Bento and Mafalda with me.

Hours later, I’m in the bedroom and Rodrigo walks after taking a long, hot shower.  He’s stark naked and by the looks of him, he’s in the mood.  I’m standing by the bed, wearing one of my nightgowns.  The slave girl garb was tossed in the garbage along with the whip.  I was very determined not to subject myself to that again.  Before he could say anything, I said, “Rodrigo, I’m Ezra, your wife, not your slave girl.  I don’t ever want to play that role again.  I didn’t mind doing it the first few times but you want to do it every time and it’s no longer fun for me.  It has become degrading.  I refuse to do it any more.”

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Rodrigo stared at me.  Silence filled the room and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something.  He came over to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, he said as his eyes met mine.  “Me desculpe, querida.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that this particular type of role playing would affect you.  It was very insensitive of me.  Please forgive me.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave and I hugged him around the waist and buried my face in his chest.   He will never know how close I came to leaving him if he had not respected my wishes.

Role-play in marriages is healthy and exciting but make sure that both of you are having fun. Never indulge in role-play which will demean or devalue either of you.

Rebecca Lee Crumpler

She changed the face of medicine

Rebecca Lee Crumpler

It was being raised by a kind aunt who spent much of her time caring for sick neighbors and her desire to relieve the suffering of others which led Rebecca Lee Crumpler down the a career path that would earn her the distinction of being the first African American woman physician in the United States.   In doing so, she rose to and overcame the challenge which prevented African Americans from pursuing careers in medicine.

Rebecca, a bright girl, attended the West-Newton English and Classical School in Massachusetts, a prestigious private school as a “special student”.  In 1852 she moved to Charleston, Massachusetts where she worked as a nurse.  In 1860, she took a leap of faith and applied to medical school and was accepted into the New England Female Medical College.

The college was founded by Drs. Israel Tisdale Talbot and Samuel Gregory in 1848 and in 1852,  accepted its first class of women, 12 in number.  However, Rebecca proved that their assertions were false when, in 1864, she earned the distinction being the first African American woman to earn an M.D. degree and  the college’s only African American graduate.  The college closed in 1873.

In 1864, a year after her first husband, Wyatt Lee died, Rebecca married her second husband, Arthur Crumpler.   She began a medical practice in Boston.   In 1865, after the Civil War ended, the couple moved to Richmond, Virginia, where she found “the proper field for real missionary work, and one that would present ample opportunities to become acquainted with the diseases of women and children.”  She joined other black physicians caring for freed slaves who would otherwise would not have access to medical care.  She worked with the Freedmen’s Bureau, missionary and community groups in the face of intense racism which many black physicians experienced while working in the postwar South.

Racism, rude behavior and sexism didn’t diminish Rebecca’s zeal and valiant efforts to treat a “very large number of the indigent and others of different classes in a population of over 30,000 colored”.  She declared that “at the close of my services in that city, I returned to my former home, Boston where I entered into the work with renewed vigor, practicing outside, and receiving children in the house for treatment, regardless, in measure, of remuneration.”

The couple lived in a predominantly African American neighborhood in Beacon Hill where she practiced medicine.  In 1880, she and her husband moved to Hyde Park.  It was believed that at that time she was no longer in active practice but she did write a “A Book of Medical Discourses in Two Parts”,  the first medical publication by an African American.  The book consisted of two parts.  The first part focused on “treating the cause, prevention, and cure of infantile bowel complaints, from birth to the close of the teething period, or after the fifth year.” The second section contained “miscellaneous information concerning the life and growth of beings; the beginning of womanhood; also, the cause, prevention, and cure of many of the most distressing complaints of women, and youth of both sexes.”

Rebecca Lee Crumpler died in Hyde Park on March 9, 1895.  Notes to Women wishes to celebrate this brave woman who had the tenacity to pursue a career in medicine, proving that women can change the face of a field which many wanted to bar her from because of color and gender.  Her passion to help alleviate the suffering of others was what led her to take this path.  Her courage and perseverance in the face of racism, sexism paved the way for many, not only African Americans and women but for those who like her, will seek every opportunity to relieve the sufferings of others.

Rebecca Lee Crumpler’s story is a reminder to all of us that we should never let anything or anyone prevent us from pursuing our dreams.

Selfish prudence is too often allowed to come between duty and human life – Rebecca Lee Crumpler

Sources:  Changing the Face of Medicine; PBS

Some Friend

f435ef6a490c1e14141c059fdce5ead9She was walking to work when she spotted Dexter’s car.  He didn’t see her.  Even if he did, what would he do?  She couldn’t imagine him telling the driver to stop so that he could talk to her.  Perhaps if Meghan was with her, he would.  It was a slap in the face when they went out for dinner one night, he was a little too attentive to her friend.  And what made it worse was Meghan flirted with him.  Their friendship cooled considerably after that.  It hurt knowing that the two people she cared for and trusted the most were seeing each other.

I have to move on, she thought.  I have to get over him.  There were other men out there.  She just had to figure out where to meet them.  Or maybe she should wait on the Lord as her mother advised her to do.  Maybe she should just enjoy being single and when the time was right for her to meet someone, it would happen.  She could do other things in the meantime like travel, enroll in an arts or crafts class, take up a new hobby or volunteer.  The possibilities were endless.

She was fine with being single.  And it didn’t matter that the man she still carried a torch for had just gone by in his chauffeur driven car.  It would be weeks before she saw him again.  She was fine with that.  Her pace quickened.  She had a busy day ahead of her and was determined not to let anything distract her.  As she was nearing the office building, her cell rang.  She fished inside her bag for it.  When she saw the number on the display, her heart skipped a beat.  It was him.  She answered.  “Hello.”

“Hello, Lonette.  Hope I’m not calling you at a bad time.”

“Actually, I’m my way to work.”

“Sorry.  I won’t keep you long.  I was wondering if you’d have lunch with me today.”

She considered that for a moment.  Why did he want to have lunch with her?  Did it have something to do with Meghan?  The last thing she needed was to sit there and listen to him talk about her former friend.  Did Meghan ask him to invite her to lunch so that he could convince her to patch things up with her?  “I can’t,” she said.  “It’s going to be a busy day for me.”

“How about dinner this evening?”

“Sorry, that’s out too.”

“What about tomorrow?  Are you free for either lunch or dinner?”

“No.”

“Are you giving me the brush off, Lonette?”

“No, I’m not,” she protested quickly, too quickly.

“Yes, you are.  Is it because of Meghan?”

“I was wondering when we were going to get around to talking about her.”

“You know there’s nothing going on between us.”

Really?  Well, that’s not what I heard.”

“Whatever you heard, it isn’t true.  I’m not interested in Meghan.  I never was.”

“When we went out for dinner, you didn’t act like you weren’t interested.”

“I know how it might have looked to you, but I swear to you that I was just trying to be nice to her for your sake.”

“What do you mean that you were just trying to be nice to her?”

He sighed.  “I don’t how to say this so I’ll just come right out and say it.  I don’t like Meghan.  I tried to get along with her for your sake and that’s why I was trying to be nice to her when the three of us were together.  I didn’t expect her to flirt with me.  I’m sorry about that.”

Lonette was inside the lobby now.  She didn’t go into the elevator but went into the sitting area.  She sat down on one of the plush leather chairs.  “Someone said that they saw you with her a couple of weeks ago.”

“I was at The Keg waiting for a client when she came over.  She sat down at the table.  I didn’t want to be rude or draw attention so I told her as politely as I could to leave.  She refused to budge until my client joined us.   She had no choice but to leave but before she did, she said that she couldn’t understand how I could be attracted to you.  She said that was why she liked being friends with you.  She didn’t have to worry about high quality men liking you instead of her.  That’s the woman you thought was your friend.  If you don’t believe me, I can give you the number of my client.”

Lonette sighed.  “No, that won’t be necessary.  I still can’t have lunch with you but I’m free for dinner tonight.”

“Good.  I’ll pick you up at seven.  I can’t wait to see you, Lonette.”

“I can’t wait to see you too.”  She rang off and remained sitting there for a few minutes.  What Meghan said stung.  She had no idea that was how she felt about her.  No wonder she didn’t have a problem flirting with Dexter.  She knew I was crazy about him and she still flirted with him.  Some friend she turned out to be.  And to think I almost threw away my chance for happiness because of her.  Furious, she deleted Meghan’s number from her cell before getting up and hurrying to the elevator.

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