A Short Story
He parked his car opposite the row of yellow buildings. The sun was shining hotly, but he remained there, seated in his car, thinking in anticipation about the room in the far corner of the street. The room would be hot and dark, the old second-hand furniture barely seen, the bed with the dirty and rumpled bed-sheets forming but the background of the dark woman, gloaming in the dark. She would be dressed in something like a frilled dress, and her skin would be a deep, dark brown, and would be gleaming with sweat. Although it was already the afternoon, she would have only just gotten out of her night’s busy bed, and, with puffy eyes and dirty mouth, she would smile as she saw him kneeling before her, touching her feet, kissing her knees, her thighs, worshipping her body. What did she look like? He did not know. He could not see her face, only her dark brown knees, her dark brown thighs, her dark brown hand, strong and controlling.
He tried to see the end building, the last of the yellow row, in the rear-view mirror, but it was out of sight. There were not many people on the street. It was as if it were a Sunday afternoon, hot and yellow.
He saw that two people were standing not far from where he had parked. When he got out of the car, the man, a tall Nigerian – it was a Nigerian neighbourhood – threw a piece of bread onto the pavement and stepped on it. He then removed his foot from the squashed and filthy piece of bread, and addressing him, said:
“Now I want you to degrade yourself before me. Stoop down and eat that piece of bread.”
He looked at the man. Was he being serious?
The man continued:
“If you do that, then I will arrange for you to see her, the woman you came here to see.”
He thought about it. It was perhaps unfortunate for the Nigerian that he had compromised his order with the promise of a reward. The man was with a young and petite woman, also Nigerian. If she had been the one to step on the bread, or even if she had merely been the one to order him to eat it, he most probably would have complied, but, as it was…
“Sorry. The inducement is not strong enough.”
The couple instantly forgot him, and walked past, continuing up the street in the direction of the building where the woman, hot and dark, had her rooms. Since he was going in that direction, he followed them. They were walking on the side of the street where the buildings were not yellow. He walked past the different shops: a barber shop, a general store, a hardware store, an ice cream parlour, just opposite the building he was making for. The couple had stopped.
He saw the young woman take something from her bag – it looked like stiff porridge – and smear it on the tip of her shoe. What was going on? Were they going to try the routine on somebody else? As he came closer, he saw that she was addressing not a man, but a young girl, not older than eleven. He heard her say to the little girl:
“I want you to bend down and eat this food from my shoe.”
He felt frustrated. Now why had she not asked him?
But wait. There was something wrong with this picture. He saw that the little girl, who had long, sandy-coloured hair, was looking at the woman with a little girl’s shyness and innocence, thinking, perhaps, that this was a game. He could see that the little girl was going to comply with the woman’s request. She was going to stoop down, and eat the food from her shoe, so he stepped forward and said:
“Excuse me madam, I can understand and appreciate what it is you are doing, but I do not think that you should be doing it to this young girl. After all, she is but a child, and does not share your kink. To accost her in this way is damaging to her psyche.”