3. Ū kui-tui ê būn-tê bô mn̄g chhut-lâi
Chi̍t-kang, goán teh khòaⁿ nn̄g-chiah tiò-hî-ang tī pa̍t-á-chhiū téng thiàu làngs boeh kau-phòe ê sî, i kā góa kóng, tōa pō͘-hūn ê chiáu-á bô lān-chiáu. Góa kòe-khì m̄-bat siūⁿ tio̍h chiáu-á ê lān-chiáu.
"Góa teh tōa ê sî, goán lāu-bú tī chhù-tiâⁿ chhī ke, góa bat khòaⁿ in kau-phòe," góa kóng.
"Tong-jiân, in ē kau-phòe, m̄-koh m̄-sī kō͘ lān-chiáu," i kóng. "Lí kám bat khòaⁿ kòe ū lān-chiáu ê chiáu?"
Góa chhiò chhut-lâi, i chiah ì-sek tio̍h chit-ê chhiò-ōe, mā chhiò chhut-lâi. Choăn che chiâⁿ-chò goán ê àm-hō. "Ū lān-chiáu ê chiáu," góa ē ná kē-siaⁿ kóng, ná kap i sio-siâm chio-ho͘, nn̄g-lâng tō lóng chhiò kah boeh péng. I thoân té-sìn ê chhiam-miâ sī "ūLCêC." Ta̍k-kái góa ùi Victoria Tó hit-tiâu chē-chē khut-á ê lō͘ oat kòe-lâi, chìn-ji̍p hit-ê chhiong-móa chiáu-á koa ê siā-khu, góa tō kám-kak ká-ná kàu chhù ah.
Hit-ê cha-bó͘ iáu teh khòaⁿ góa. Kau-thong that tiâu tio̍h, chin hán-tit tī ē-po͘ chiah chá tō án-ne. Tiāⁿ-tio̍h sī iû-koàn-chhia tó tī lō͘ -- iû-koàn-chhia chhiâng-chāi tó tī lō͘ -- nā-bô tō sī ū basuh kò͘-chiong, a̍h sī gasolin chām gōa-kháu chhia pâi-tūi pâi kah that tio̍h tōa-lō͘. Góa ê iû-siuⁿ tit-boeh khang ah. Góa kā énjin koaiⁿ tiāu, kā thang-á iô lo̍h-lâi, m̄-chai hit-ê cha-bó͘ sī-m̄-sī mā ē iô-lo̍h chhia-thang, kap góa kóng-ōe. Góa kim-kim kā khoàⁿ, m̄-koh yi bô tāng, yi ê gán-sîn iáu-sī bô tāng, it-ti̍t kàu góa khòaⁿ pa̍t-ūi. Taⁿ ū koh-khah chē ê hoàn-á, tu cha̍p-chì, tiān-ōe khah, kin-chio koaⁿ, pò-chóa, kóng-á Koke /khò͘-khèr/, a̍h chìm kòe chúi, khòaⁿ tio̍h liâng ê Amstel Malta (ím-liāu). Góa thâu-chêng ê su-ki tng-teh bé tiān-ōe khah. Hoàn-á sī chi̍t-ê chhēng âng-sek Arsenal siatchuh ê cha-po͘ gín-á, kō͘ chéng-kah lù khah-phìⁿ, teh tán hit-ê su-ki kā hō-má su-ji̍p tiān-ōe, thang khak-tēng he khah-phìⁿ m̄-sī ké ê.
Góa koh oa̍t kòe khòaⁿ hit-ê cha-bó͘. Góa siūⁿ tio̍h goán ài-jîn tē-it kái lâi goán pān-kong-sek, Chikwado kóng: "I kui-bīn chhiong-móa gōa-kok khoán." Hit-ê cha-bó͘, kāng-khoán, mā sī kui-bīn chhiong-móa gōa-kok khoán, he sī seng-oa̍h phok-sóng ê lâng ê bīn. Yi ê chhùi-tûn kō͘ cocoa /koko-à/ sek ê ian-chi-pit ōe kòe, hián-chhut chi̍t-ê bô kàu-khùi ê sèng-lī kám, bē-su yi í-keng chiàn iâⁿ, m̄-koh thó-ià yi ná tio̍h khai chiàn. Hoān-sè yi chin ê sī goán ài-jîn ê bó͘, tú tńg-lâi Lagos, hoat-hiān tio̍h góa, iū ná chhiūⁿ ok-chit nāu-kio̍k, tī chhia-tīn tiong chhut-hiān tī góa ê sin-piⁿ. M̄-koh, in bó͘ bô khó-lêng ē chai; i it-ti̍t lóng chin sió-sim.
"Góa hi-bāng góa ē-tàng," i chóng-sī án-ne kóng, tng góa iau-kiû i pài-la̍k ē-tàu hām góa khì Jazz Hole, a̍h kiàn-gī lé-pài-ji̍t khì Terra Kulture khòaⁿ chi̍t-chhut hì, a̍h mn̄g kóng kám ē-tàng ōaⁿ chi̍t-keng chhan-thiaⁿ chia̍h-pn̄g ê sî. Goán kan-ta bat khì Awolowo Lō͘ hū-kīn chi̍t-tiâu o͘-àm ke-lō͘ ê chi̍t-keng chhan-thiaⁿ, hia ê chiú kùi, mn̂g-kháu bô chiau-pâi. I kóng "Góa hi-bāng góa ē-tàng" bē-su ū siáⁿ tiōng-tāi, bián-put-liáu ê chū-jiân hêng-ûi, hō͘ i bē-tàng kong-khai hō͘ lâng khòaⁿ tio̍h i kap góa chò-hóe. I mā bô khó-lêng pó-liû góa ê té-sìn. Góa siūⁿ boeh mn̄g, i ná hiah ū hāu-lu̍t tī khòaⁿ tio̍h góa ê té-sìn sûi kā thâi tiāu, i ná bē siūⁿ boeh kā pó-chûn tī chhiú-ki-á, sīm-chì lâu kúi tiám-cheng, sīm-chì kan-ta lâu chi̍t-kang. Ū kui-tui ê būn-tê bô mn̄g chhut-lâi, ná chhiūⁿ îⁿ-chio̍h-thâu-á chek tī góa ê nâ-âu. Che sī chi̍t-kiāⁿ kî-koài ê tāi-chì, hiah-nī chhin-kīn chi̍t-ê lâng -- kā kóng góa tùi pē-bú ê put-boán, kō͘ góa chheⁿ-so͘ ê hòng-tōng ūi i tó thán-chhiò -- soah bē-tàng mn̄g i būn-tê, in-ūi góa siū-tio̍h bô an-choân kám kap bo̍k-bêng ê ǹg-bāng só͘ sok-pa̍k.
Tē-it pái goán oan-ke ê sî, i chí-chek góa, kóng, "Lí mài khàu." Góa ì-sek tio̍h, in bó͘ mā ē khàu, i ē-tàng bīn-tùi ba̍k-sái, m̄-koh bē-tàng bīn-tùi góa ê léng-tām thiau-chiàn.
Hit-kái oan-ke sī in-ūi i ê su-ki Emmanuel, chi̍t-ê lāu-lâng, i ê bīn-chhiuⁿ nā mài tîⁿ-tòe tio̍h put-boán, i khó-lêng khòaⁿ tio̍h khah ū tì-hūi. He sī pài-la̍k ē-po͘. Góa chū chá-khí tō it-ti̍t teh bô-êng. Goán láu-pán tiàu-chi̍p chi̍t-ê kín-kip hōe-gī, góa jīn-ûi he bô pit-iàu: goán lóng chai-iáⁿ, óa lāi-hái sió-tìn ê Oba Tiān-hā tng teh chè-chō mâ-hoân, kóng Celnet Tiān-sìn hāi i tī peh-sèⁿ bīn-chêng pháiⁿ-khòaⁿ. I kià chē-chē té-sìn, mn̄g goán ná ē-sái tī in chó͘-sian ê thó͘-tē khí chi̍t-ê tōa ki-tē-tâi, soah kan-ta kià-hù chi̍t-ê sió-sió ê chúi-chéⁿ hō͘ i ê peh-sèⁿ. Hit chá-khí, i ê ūi-peng hong-só goán ê kiàn-tio̍k kang-tē, kā chi̍t-kóa goán ê kang-têng-su tháⁿ lâi tháⁿ khì, koh chhak phòa in siuⁿ-á-chhia ê lûn-thai. Goán láu-pán chin siū-khì, khui-hōe kóng-ōe ê sî, i kō͘ chhiú tōa-la̍t tûi toh-bīn. Góa kāng-khoán, āu-lâi teh bô͘-hóng i ê sî, mā kō͘ chhiú tōa-la̍t tûi tîn-toh, hit-sî goán ài-jîn chhiò chhut-lâi. "Che tō sī chiah-ê bô sìn Sîn, pài mô͘-kúi ê thoân-thóng thóng-tī-chiá ê būn-tê," goán láu-pán kóng. "Chit-lâng sī chi̍t-ê pián-á. Chi̍t-ê phó͘-thong pián-á! Lán hō͘ i ê 100 bān naira án-nóa ah? Lán khí ki-tē-tâi chìn-chêng, kám tio̍h kō͘ pò͘-tē chah bí, chah tāu-á sàng hō͘ i ê peh-sèⁿ? I siūⁿ boeh ta̍k-kang lóng ū bah-piáⁿ ê kiong-èng? O͘-pe̍h-lâi!"
"Bah-piáⁿ" hō͘ Chikwado hām góa khí ài-chhiò, sui-bóng goán láu-pán m̄-sī hó chhiò-khoe. "Ná m̄-sī khah phó͘-thong ê mi̍h, chhin-chhiūⁿ kóng pháng?" Chikwado sè-siaⁿ kā góa kóng, koh tī láu-pán mn̄g ū siáng chì-goān má-siōng khì kìⁿ Oba ê sî, sûi kín gia̍h chhiú. Góa m̄-bat chì-goān. Góa bô kah-ì hit-chióng pài-hóng -- chhun-bîn kō͘ khó-phà ê ba̍k-chiu khòaⁿ goán, siàu-liân-ke thó boeh bián-hùi ê tiān-ōe khah, sīm-chì bián-hùi ê chhiú-ki-á -- in-ūi chiah-ê lóng hō͘ góa kám-kak ū bô-ta-ôa ê tōa-khoân.
"Sī án-nóa kóng bah-piáⁿ?" goán ài-jîn mn̄g, iáu koh teh chhiò.
"Góa mā m̄-chai."
"Sū-si̍t-siōng, góa taⁿ siūⁿ boeh ū chi̍t-tè bah-piáⁿ."
"Góa mā boeh."
Goán chhiò bē-lī, jit-kng teh chiò, chhiū téng ū chiáu-á siaⁿ, thang-á lî khin-khin phia̍t thoah-mn̂g, góa í-keng teh siūⁿ í-āu ê pài-la̍k goán iáu ē chò-hóe, ná chhiò ná kóng goán láu-pán ê chhù-bī kò͘-sū. Goán ài-jîn kiò Emmanuel kòe lâi, chài góa khì chhiau-kip chhī-tiûⁿ bé bah-piáⁿ. Góa peh chiūⁿ chhia ê sî, Emmanuel bô kap góa chio-ho͘. I kan-ta ti̍t-ti̍t khòaⁿ thâu-chêng. Che sī tē-it pái chài góa bô hām goán ài-jîn. Tiām-chēng kah ē kiaⁿ-lâng. Hoān-sè i teh siūⁿ, i ê gín-á lóng pí góa khah chē hòe.
"Án-ne hó, Emmanuel!" lo̍h-bóe góa kóng, kō͘ kek chhut-lâi ê khai-lóng kap i chio-ho͘. "Lí chai tī Kofo Abayomi Ke ê chhiau-kip chhī-tiûⁿ bô?"
- -
3. 有規堆 ê 問題無問出來
一工, 阮 teh 看兩隻釣魚翁 tī 菝仔樹頂跳 làngs 欲交配 ê 時, 伊 kā 我講, 大部份 ê 鳥仔無膦鳥. 我過去 m̄-bat 想著鳥仔 ê 膦鳥.
"我 teh 大 ê 時, 阮老母 tī 厝埕飼雞, 我 bat 看 in 交配," 我講.
"當然, in 會交配, m̄-koh 毋是 kō͘ 膦鳥," 伊講. "你敢 bat 看過有膦鳥 ê 鳥?"
我笑出來, 伊才意識著這个笑話, mā 笑出來. Choăn 這成做阮 ê 暗號. "有膦鳥 ê 鳥," 我會 ná 低聲講, ná kap 伊相尋招呼, 兩人 tō 攏笑 kah 欲 péng. 伊傳短信 ê 簽名是 "ūLCêC." 逐改我 ùi Victoria 島彼條濟濟窟仔 ê 路斡過來, 進入彼个充滿鳥仔歌 ê 社區, 我 tō 感覺 ká-ná 到厝 ah.
彼个查某猶 teh 看我. 交通窒牢著, 真罕得 tī 下晡 chiah 早 tō án-ne. 定著是油罐車倒 tī 路 -- 油罐車常在倒 tī 路 -- 若無 tō 是有 basuh 故障, a̍h 是 gasolin 站外口車排隊排 kah 窒著大路. 我 ê 油箱得欲空 ah. 我 kā énjin 關掉, kā 窗仔搖落來, 毋知彼个查某是毋是 mā 會搖落車窗, kap 我講話. 我金金 kā 看, m̄-koh 她無動, 她 ê 眼神猶是無動, 一直到我看別位. 今有 koh 較濟 ê 販仔, tu 雜誌, 電話卡, kin 蕉乾, 報紙, 管仔 Koke /khò͘-khèr/, a̍h 浸過水, 看著涼 ê Amstel Malta (飲料). 我頭前 ê 司機 tng-teh 買電話卡. 販仔是一个穿紅色 Arsenal siatchuh ê 查埔囡仔, kō͘ 指甲 lù 卡片, teh 等彼个司機 kā 號碼輸入電話, 通確定彼卡片毋是假 ê.
我 koh 越過看彼个查某. 我想著阮愛人第一改來阮辦公室, Chikwado 講: "伊規面充滿外國款." 彼个查某, 仝款, mā 是規面充滿外國款, 彼是生活博爽 ê 人 ê 面. 她 ê 喙唇 kō͘ cocoa /koko-à/ 色 ê 胭脂筆畫過, 顯出一个無夠氣 ê 勝利感, 袂輸她已經戰贏, m̄-koh 討厭她那著開戰. 凡勢她真 ê 是阮愛人 ê 某, 拄轉來 Lagos, 發現著我, 又 ná 像惡質鬧劇, tī 車陣中出現 tī 我 ê 身邊. M̄-koh, in 某無可能會知; 伊一直攏真小心.
"我希望我會當," 伊總是 án-ne 講, tng 我要求伊拜六下晝和我去 Jazz Hole, a̍h 建議禮拜日去 Terra Kulture 看一齣戲, a̍h 問講敢會當換一間餐廳食飯 ê 時. 阮干焦 bat 去 Awolowo 路附近一條烏暗街路 ê 一間餐廳, hia ê 酒貴, 門口無招牌. 伊講 "我希望我會當" 袂輸有啥重大, 免不了 ê 自然行為, 予伊袂當公開予人看著伊 kap 我做伙. 伊 mā 無可能保留我 ê 短信. 我想欲問, 伊那 hiah 有效率 tī 看著我 ê 短信隨 kā 刣掉, 伊那袂想欲 kā 保存 tī 手機仔, 甚至留幾點鐘, 甚至干焦留一工. 有規堆 ê 問題無問出來, ná 像圓石頭仔積 tī 我 ê 嚨喉. 這是一件奇怪 ê 代誌, hiah-nī 親近一个人 -- kā 講我對爸母 ê 不滿, kō͘ 我生疏 ê 放蕩為伊倒袒笑 -- 煞袂當問伊問題, 因為我受著無安全感 kap 莫名 ê ǹg 望所束縛.
第一擺阮冤家 ê 時, 伊指責我, 講, "你莫哭." 我意識著, in 某 mā 會哭, 伊會當面對目屎, m̄-koh 袂當面對我 ê 冷淡挑戰.
彼改冤家是因為伊 ê 司機 Emmanuel, 一个老人, 伊 ê 面腔若莫纏綴著不滿, 伊可能看著較有智慧. 彼是拜六下晡. 我自早起 tō 一直 teh 無閒. 阮老板召集一个緊急會議, 我認為 he 無必要: 阮攏知影, 倚內海小鎮 ê Oba 殿下 tng-teh 製造麻煩, 講 Celnet 電信害伊 tī 百姓面前歹看. 伊寄濟濟短信, 問阮那會使 tī in 祖先 ê 土地起一个大基地台, 煞干焦寄付一个小小 ê 水井予伊 ê 百姓. 彼早起, 伊 ê 衛兵封鎖阮 ê 建築工地, kā 一寡阮 ê 工程師挺來挺去, koh 鑿破 in 廂仔車 ê 輪胎. 阮老板真受氣, 開會講話 ê 時, 伊 kō͘ 手大力捶桌面. 我仝款, 後來 teh 模仿伊 ê 時, mā kō͘ 手大力捶籐桌, 彼時阮愛人笑出來. "這 tō 是 chiah-ê 無信神, 拜魔鬼 ê 傳統統治者 ê 問題," 阮老板講. "這人是一个諞仔. 一个普通諞仔! 咱予伊 ê 100 萬 naira án-nóa ah? 咱起基地台進前, 敢著 kō͘ 布袋扎米, 扎豆仔送予伊 ê 百姓? 伊想欲逐工攏有肉餅 ê 供應? 烏白來!"
"肉餅" 予 Chikwado 和我起愛笑, 雖罔阮老板毋是好笑詼. "那毋是較普通 ê 物, 親像講 pháng?" Chikwado 細聲 kā 我講, koh tī 老板問有 siáng 志願馬上去見 Oba ê 時, 隨緊攑手. 我 m̄-bat 志願. 我無佮意彼種拜訪 -- 村民 kō͘ 可怕 ê 目睭看阮, 少年家討欲免費 ê 電話卡, 甚至免費 ê 手機仔 -- 因為 chiah-ê 攏予我感覺有 bô-ta-ôa ê 大權.
"是 án-nóa 講肉餅?" 阮愛人問, 猶 koh teh 笑.
"我 mā 毋知."
"事實上, 我今想欲有一塊肉餅."
"我 mā 欲."
阮笑袂離, 日光 teh 照, 樹頂有鳥仔聲, 窗仔簾輕輕 phia̍t 挩門, 我已經 teh 想以後 ê 拜六阮猶會做伙, ná 笑 ná 講阮老板 ê 趣味故事. 阮愛人叫 Emmanuel 過來, 載我去超級市場買肉餅. 我 peh 上車 ê 時, Emmanuel 無 kap 我招呼. 伊干焦直直看頭前. 這是第一擺載我無和阮愛人. 恬靜 kah 會驚人. 凡勢伊 teh 想, 伊 ê 囡仔攏比我較濟歲.
"Án-ne 好, Emmanuel!" 落尾我講, kō͘ 激出來 ê 開朗 kap 伊招呼. "你知 tī Kofo Abayomi 街 ê 超級市場無?"
- -
3.
One day he told me, while we were watching two kingfishers do a mating dance on a guava tree, that most birds did not have penises. I had never thought about the penises of birds.
“My mother had chickens in the yard when I was growing up, and I used to watch them mating,” I said.
“Of course they mate, but not with penises,” he said. “Did you ever see a cock with a dick?”
I laughed, and he, only just realizing the joke, laughed, too. It became our endearment. “Cock with a dick,” I would whisper, hugging him in greeting, and we would burst out laughing. He sent me texts signed “CwithaD.” And each time I turned off the potholed road in Victoria Island and into that compound full of birdsong I felt as though I were home.
The woman was still looking at me. Traffic was at a standstill, unusual this early in the afternoon. A tanker must have fallen across the road—tankers were always falling across the roads—or a bus had broken down, or cars had formed a line outside a petrol station, blocking the road. My fuel gauge was close to empty. I switched off the ignition and rolled down the window, wondering if the woman would roll down hers as well and say something to me. I stared back at her, and yet she did not waver, her eyes remaining firm, until I looked away. There were many more hawkers now, holding out magazines, phone cards, plantain chips, newspapers, cans of Coke and Amstel Malta dipped in water to make them look cold. The driver in front of me was buying a phone card. The hawker, a boy in a red Arsenal shirt, scratched the card with his fingernail, and then waited for the driver to enter the numbers in his phone to make sure the card was not fake.
I turned again to look at the woman. I was reminded of what Chikwado had said about my lover the first day that he came to our office: “His face is full of overseas.” The woman, too, had a face full of overseas, the face of a person whose life was a blur of comforts. There was something in the set of her lips, which were lined with cocoa lip pencil, that suggested an unsatisfying triumph, as though she had won a battle but hated having had to fight in the first place. Perhaps she was indeed my lover’s wife and she had come back to Lagos and just found out about me, and then, as though in a bad farce, ended up next to me in traffic. But his wife could not possibly know; he had been so careful.
“I wish I could,” he always said, when I asked him to spend Saturday afternoon with me at Jazz Hole, or when I suggested we go to a play at Terra Kulture on Sunday, or when I asked if we could try dinner at a different restaurant. We only ever went to one on a dark street off Awolowo Road, a place with expensive wines and no sign on the gate. He said “I wish I could” as though some great and ineluctable act of nature made it impossible for him to be seen publicly with me. And impossible for him to keep my text messages. I wanted to ask how he could so efficiently delete my texts as soon as he read them, why he felt no urge to keep them on his phone, even if only for a few hours, even if only for a day. There were reams of questions unasked, gathering like rough pebbles in my throat. It was a strange thing to feel so close to a man—to tell him about my resentment of my parents, to lie supine for him with an abandon that was unfamiliar to me—and yet be unable to ask him questions, bound as I was by insecurity and unnamed longings.
The first time we quarrelled, he said to me accusingly, “You don’t cry.” I realized that his wife cried, that he could handle tears but not my cold defiance.
The fight was about his driver, Emmanuel, an elderly man who might have looked wise if his features were not so snarled with dissatisfaction. It was a Saturday afternoon. I had been at work that morning. My boss had called an emergency meeting that I thought unnecessary: we all knew that His Royal Highness, the Oba of the town near the lagoon, was causing trouble, saying that Celnet Telecom had made him look bad in front of his people. He had sent many messages asking how we could build a big base station on his ancestral land and yet donate only a small borehole to his people. That morning, his guards had blocked off our building site, shoved some of our engineers around, and punctured the tires of their van. My boss was furious, and he slammed his hand on the table as he spoke at the meeting. I, too, slammed my hand on the cane table as I imitated him later, while my lover laughed. “That is the problem with these godless, demon-worshipping traditional rulers,” my boss said. “The man is a crook. A common crook! What happened to the one million naira we gave him? Should we also bring bags of rice and beans for all his people before we put up our base station? Does he want a supply of meat pies every day? Nonsense!”
“Meat pies” had made Chikwado and me laugh, even though our boss was not being funny. “Why not something more ordinary, like bread?” Chikwado whispered to me, and then promptly raised her hand when our boss asked for volunteers to go see the Oba right away. I never volunteered. I disliked those visits—villagers watching us with awed eyes, young men asking for free phone cards, even free phones—because it all made me feel helplessly powerful.
“Why meat pies?” my lover asked, still laughing.
“I have no idea.”
“Actually, I would like to have a meat pie right now.”
“Me, too.”
We were laughing, and with the sun shining, the sound of birds above, the slight flutter of the curtains against the sliding door, I was already thinking of future Saturdays that we would spend together, laughing at funny stories about my boss. My lover summoned Emmanuel and asked him to take me to the supermarket to buy the meat pies. When I got into the car, Emmanuel did not greet me. He simply stared straight ahead. It was the first time that he had driven me without my lover. The silence was tense. Perhaps he was thinking that all his children were older than me.
“Well done, Emmanuel!” I said finally, greeting him with forced brightness. “Do you know the supermarket on Kofo Abayomi Street?”
- -
No comments:
Post a Comment