‘I don’t know how to tell her I love her.’
It was during the break period and the two friends were seated as usual under the big mango tree in front of their block. It was now almost a week since Eric first met Rose and he had finally confided in his friend that, of a truth, he was in love with the new girl from Asaba. But the challenge was how to tell her about this love. Unlike Ubaka, Eric was the shy type, especially when it came to the opposite sex. He had tried on one or two occasions to tell Rose of his feelings for her but was not able to do that. Once, during the evening games, he called her to a secret corner with a determination to let it all out. But when she came and cast those deep and penetrating eyes on his, he lost courage and said other things instead; even though, with the way she was reluctant to leave, it was obvious she was expecting to hear some other things from him.
‘You really want me to go back to the Games?’ she had asked.
‘Y-yes,’ he stammered. ‘You may go back to the Games. That’s all I wanted to know: how you are faring in your English Language class.’
She had then gone back, leaving Eric who was now full of regrets that he could not do what Ubaka once referred to as ‘the easiest thing in the world’. At last, Eric decided to share his problem with his friend. After all, he had often heard Uncle Sam tell his mother that a problem shared was a problem half solved.
‘I don’t know how to tell her I love her,’ he repeated.
‘You don’t know how to tell her you love her?’ the other said, a mocking look in his eyes. ‘Well, you can tell her she is the only cockroach in your cupboard, the only sugar in your cup of tea but that the only challenge you have is that wicked pair of bras of hers that has kept in perpetual custody those big and very soft, succulent, delicate and tantalizing…’
‘I am serious!’ Eric told him.
‘But so also am I,’ Ubaka replied. And then, he went on in the same scornful tone: ‘You want me to tell you, the most celebrated English Language student of Obodo-Uku Grammar School, how to talk to your girlfriend? Why, that’s the most absurd absurdity I’ve ever seen.’
‘Please, help me,’ Eric pleaded, ignoring the verbosity. ‘You know I don’t know much about these things like you do.’
There was silence for a while and then, Ubaka said, ‘I have an idea. Why don’t you write her a letter? A love letter in which you express your feelings for her.’
A love letter? That appeared to be a smart idea to Eric. He would have an opportunity to tell her all those things he had always wanted to tell her but this time, it would be in a letter and those bewitching eyes would not be there to cast a spell on him. Yes, Ubaka was right. A letter was the best option in the light of present circumstances.
‘Who will deliver the letter?’ he now asked.
‘I’ll be your courier my boy,’ the other replied with an air of a coach. ‘What are friends for? I’ll help you deliver your consignment.’
There was no time to waste after that. They went to the school bookshop and bought a sheet of writing paper and an envelope and went to the library which was always quiet. Here, they sat and Eric penned down the letter while Ubaka occupied himself with Charles Dickens’ A Tale Of Two Cities.
At first, Eric did not know how to start off with the letter. He wanted to ask Ubaka but realised this might earn him another bashing from his friend. He finally wrote:
Dear Rose. Ever since you came over to help me with that carton of stationery in front of the VP’s office, my life has not been the same again. I see you everywhere I go. Even in my dreams, I see you. I can no longer concentrate in class because of you.
My pen is knocking at the door of your heart. Please open and let me in; otherwise, I will go crazy. I love you not just because of your angelic beauty but also because of your intelligence. You are the most beautiful and intelligent girl I have ever seen.
I promise to take care of you and treat you like the queen that you truly are and if anyone dares lay a finger on you, they will have my consuming wrath to contend with.
There is no limit to the benefits that will come to you if you agree to be my girlfriend. As the senior prefect, I will use my position to protect you from troubles while in school. I’ll also help you in your school work and make sure you come out with good grades. I can even come around to help you and your mother fetch water from Owa river. That would not be too difficult since we live in the same quarter.
Too much words, they say, confuse the mind. So, I will stop here and wait for your reply which I hope will be positive because, like I earlier stated, I’ll lose my mind if you say no.
Waiting for your reply. Eric Gboneme, SP, Obodo-Uku Grammar School.
When Ubaka saw that his friend was done with the letter, he took it from him and read through. ‘I think this is okay,’ he finally gave his verdict.
Eric thought for a moment and then said, ‘Give it back to me; I want to add something.’ Ubaka gave the letter back to him and he folded it and wrote on the flip side:
Rose! Rose!
Fair is too foul an epithet
For you O fairest of mermaids
‘Hmm!’ Ubaka exclaimed when he took the letter once again. ‘You are indeed a genius. “Fair is too foul an epithet”. That’s a classical use of oxymoron. How did you manage to come up with it within minutes?’
Eric laughed. ‘Actually, it’s not an oxymoron. I think it’s a paradox or something close to it. As for coming up with it, it’s actually not an original. It’s from a book I once read. I only substituted Rose’s name with the original name that was there.’
‘The crime you have committed is called plagiarism, stealing someone’s idea and making it look like it’s your own,’ Ubaka accused.
‘I just owned up to the fact that it wasn’t original, didn’t I?’
‘That does not remove the fact that you stole.’
‘Alright, Impeccable Judge! I plead guilty, I am guilty as charged.’
They both burst into laughter. Since the break period was almost over and there was no time to waste, Ubaka took the letter, which was now inside the envelop, and went off in search of Rose. Eric went back to the classroom to wait for him. Not long after, Ubaka came back.
‘How did it go?’ Eric asked. ‘Did she accept it?’
‘Mission accomplished,’ the other said. ‘Your consignment has been successfully and precisely delivered.’
Eric was uneasy for the remaining part of the day. Now that the letter had been written and delivered, he did not know what to expect. Somehow, he was ashamed of the things he had written in the letter. What would Rose think of him now? Would she accept his proposal or would she scorn him and say he was an irresponsible senior prefect? Or, worse still, would she give the letter to her friends to read and make jest of him? Eric was scared of that last possibility because he knew it could lead to a scandal that could make it to The Community. The Community was the school’s media platform where events within and around the school community were published. The big publishing board of The Community was nailed to a wall by the assembly hall where students could easily come and read at their leisure times. Many students and teachers had, at one time or the other, been made to face the school’s disciplinary committee due to allegations published on The Community. Even though Eric was a sub-editor on the platform, he knew they would not spare him if the news got out that he had written a love letter to a female student of the school.
That day, at the close of school, Rose did not come to carry his bag home as she had usually done. Eric was apprehensive. He now began to question the wisdom of writing that letter. Maybe he should not have written it. But what was wrong with the letter? Had Rose misunderstood one or two things? Had she mistaken the word epithet for epitaph? Eric’s mind was running wild with all sorts of assumptions and negative possibilities.
On the way home that day, Eric met her. But as soon as Rose saw him, she looked at him in contempt and then ran off to join some students in front. Eric was downcast. He was now convinced it was wrong to have written that letter. It was all Ubaka’s fault. He was the one that came up with the idea of writing it. Before the letter, they were close; now, she was running from him. And all because of that stupid Ubaka!
Adapted from the novel, Why Are We So Dark?
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