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Thread: The Congo Junction Hotel.

  1. #1
    MANICHAEAN MANICHAEAN's Avatar
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    The Congo Junction Hotel.

    The Congo Junction Hotel.

    Chapter 1.

    It was tucked away down a narrow street in Jos, Plateau State like a furtive, dangerous relative, that one had heard whispered about among the grown-ups; but who was now shunned by the rest of the family.

    Even now it evokes a shimmer of excitement, that invariably accompanies letting go, and activating that first hesitant step into an unknowing void. A majestic bundle of abstract actions loosely tied up in careless emotions.

    I’d been quite young at the time, or early manhood to be precise. Africa was new and Africa was exciting; the smells, the underlying energy, the people, and it comprised a pulsating existence seemingly unencumbered of most Western norms.

    One passed the hotel; or rather had a sidelong glance at it, in driving the pick-up from my house to the site where I worked. It looked interesting with a potential for mishap. Not exactly the Ritz Carlton. The name itself would have disavowed it from any pretense of being more than a cheap Nigerian drinking joint serving a cold beer, and perhaps some pepper soup.

    However, it was not the sort of spot that a single, conspicuous white male would frequent when it was heaving in the throes of lively night time indigenous drinking sessions. If that sounds a bit racial, it is not the case. More an awareness of being “street wise” as I believe is the common parlance.

    It was akin a phantazesthai mirage to our hero; gasping for a drink in some imaginary desert waste; as it fluttered its brooding, yet not so endearing eye lashes at me every time I passed.

    The inevitable happened one hot and humid Wednesday returning to site after sorting out building supplies. Opportune moment I thought. If I went midday, it would supposedly be quiet and I could check it out.

    Outward appearances were relatively reassuring. Two floor concrete block structure with heavy wooden shutters on the windows, and a fading skin of white paint. The signboard over the main entrance which extended out into the narrow street was garish and hung listlessly; a touch of rouge on an otherwise sickly pale cheek. The heat had most people sheltering indoors. A skeletal pi dog in a doorway across the narrow street coughed and avoided my glance.

    Parking a little way down, I remembered trying to be casual as I entered. The layout itself was similar to many such establishments: central courtyard, metal tables & chairs, and surrounded by, what I could only presume to be living units of outer unknown darkness.

    I sat down. It was basically empty. Looking up I saw a slender dark figure approach. She was attractive, young, head held erect and had a safety pin through one ear lobe. Her voice I recall was slightly high pitched, as she asked me what I wanted to drink.

    My favourite beer at the time was “Star,” and I could murder one now. Long greenish bottle from the deep freeze, melting ice on the exterior. She opened the metal top with her teeth setting down the bottle and a glass.

    I think back, that when I paid with a note from my top pocket, that I had, self-consciously started the courtship. It was a large note and I forewent any need for change. It was a gesture that was appreciated, in what I thought was executed in a friendly open way. We chatted for a bit and I learnt her name was “Joy.”

    She then left. I consciously relaxed, as I was not expected back at site in any hurry. The beer was malty and soothing. I stretched my legs. Eternity and contentment were joined.

    I had been considering another beer, when my attention was joined by a distinctive “Psssssittt” through closed teeth from one of the doorways. It was Joy beckoning me to come.

  2. #2
    Registered User Steven Hunley's Avatar
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    "She then left. I consciously relaxed, as I was not expected back at site in any hurry. The beer was malty and soothing. I stretched my legs. Eternity and contentment were joined.

    I had been considering another beer, when my attention was joined by a distinctive “Psssssittt” through closed teeth from one of the doorways. It was Joy beckoning me to come.


    Look how much is here in so few words. You give us a taste, an attitude, an quotable image. Then some dialogue, ( the Pssssit ) and foreshadowing as a tease.

    OH, you talented Man. Just love this stuff.

  3. #3
    MANICHAEAN MANICHAEAN's Avatar
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    Thanks Steve. I'm a bit apprehensive about Chapt 2, as based on a real situation, I'm not sure the Mods will allow it.

  4. #4
    MANICHAEAN MANICHAEAN's Avatar
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    Chapter 2.

    I suppose one could only describe the single room that I entered as “multi occupancy.” At the end was what I presumed to be a small kitchen area with a cooking ring and gas bottle, along with a few pots. A bag of rice was propped up against the wall. To the right, two bunk beds curtained off, and on the external wall, complete with shuttered window there was a bigger bed.

    It was to this latter location that Joy drew the curtain and beckoned me to get in. Divesting myself of my footwear I obliged.

    At his point perhaps I should explain that in my own experience; that harlots, along with those that run bars, I have found to have few illusions in life. Like Caesar’s wife, they have to be all things to all men.

    I had in this instance entered the Congo Junction purely for a beer and to explore. Yet in this new development, it cannot necessarily have been assumed that sexuality may not have been a factor a priori.

    It is also important to explain for the purposes of edification, that all physical manoeuvres from this moment on, were executed from the horizontal plane.

    Thus, upon undressing, I observed that Joy had the lithe tight dark body of a negress in her prime, and the muscular flexibility of which dreams are made of. I will not bore the reader with the exertions that unraveled in the subsequent hour of spontaneous indulgence; but bring to your attention the sudden, yet extended and eventful postscript.

    It all started with another, what I presumed to be fallen angel entering the room and proceeding to both cook and sing, a couple of feet behind my head; whilst Joy, to her great credit rode me with enthusiasm, clenched mouth and barely suppressed moans. I cannot recall the actual song being rendered now by the new arrival, but I assumed it was of a tribal origin, in words I failed at the time to comprehend.

    A sense of unease took me, further enhanced when yet another lady of unexplored reputation, entered with her male beau; and proceeded to engage in what can only be described as heavy rutting in the bunk bed across the way. Cries of “Yes, Yes, YES” from him, and “Oh Jesus,” from the recipient.

    The final straw in my own case was a heavy knock on the shuttered window at the side of my bed, and a guttural exchange in the Fulani dialect between a male stranger and Joy. I lay motionless, panicking to say the least in the exposure of my strategic defenses.

    “Who was that?” I asked Joy.

    “Oh, just my boyfriend,” she replied, followed up with “What's wrong with you? Don’t I excite you anymore?”

    Muttering some incomprehensible excuse, I redressed horizontally and made for the pickup and freedom.

    It has been said, presumably by those who live a more sedentary existence, that in this theatre of man’s life, it is reserved only for God and the angel’s to be lookers on. I was neither; but then, I cannot help but reflect that the bit players in this related drama had very nearly touched the garments’ hem.

  5. #5
    On the road, but not! Danik 2016's Avatar
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    Almost laughed my head off. All I can say is that there were conflicting ideas od privacy at play and so it wasn´t much Joy after all.
    And that your sense of humour is always refreshing .
    #Stay home as much as you can and stay well

  6. #6
    MANICHAEAN MANICHAEAN's Avatar
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    Thanks Danik. Glad you enjoyed.
    Best wishes.
    M.

  7. #7
    The Wolf of Larsen WolfLarsen's Avatar
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    I thought this was great!
    "...the ramblings of a narcissistic, self-obsessed, deranged mind."
    My poetry, plays, novels, & other stuff on Amazon:
    http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr...or=Wolf Larsen

  8. #8
    MANICHAEAN MANICHAEAN's Avatar
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    Thank you Wolf. Appreciated.
    Best wishes.
    M.

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