Frederick felt powerless. He always felt this way with Margaret. He was always eager to fulfill her wishes. He wanted to make her happy. She was so good to him. Meeting her on the evenings when he did always made him feel warm inside. She seemed to feel the same way too and always made effort to finish her chores at home, where she lived with her parents, so that she could see him whenever he found time from his place of work.
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Two years after their simple wedding, Frederick longed for the good feelings of the early days of their relationship. Living expenses had gone higher and he was struggling to feed his family. He loved his wife and their one year old son and he wanted to see them well provided for and happy. However, Margaret had been complaining of late that he was not conversing with her as much as he used to before. This was probably true. Nowadays he would get home feeling rather tired, having passed by one place or another to try and find means by which he could boost his income. His small family depended on him, since they had decided that Margaret would stay at home and raise their son, rather than have her look for a job, then they look for and probably pay someone to take care of their son. This tiredness made him less talkative. He usually preferred to listen to Margaret talk, and he made a few responses from time to time. He hoped soon things would be alright, that he would increase his income and that he and his wife would be able to have long and happy conversations planning their future.
Something other than his income was gnawing Frederick’s mind at the moment. During one of his business-seeking ventures, a local trader had asked him about a certain lorry driver.
“Why don’t you talk about this to that driver who comes to your house?”
“Which driver?” Frederick had said.
“The tall, dark one who transports things from Kisii town.”
“I don’t know any such driver.”
“Oh, ok. I saw him once at your door, and another time I saw your wife heading towards his lorry” the trader said. “I thought maybe he was a friend of yours or you were doing some business together.”
Frederick had asked Margaret about this driver, but she had said she did not know any such person. Frederick did not know what to believe. He had never had reason to doubt anything Margaret had told him, but on the other hand, he did not see why the trader would make up any stories about the driver. Margaret’s recent complaints, coming after the conversation with the trader, seemed to be a sign of trouble.
A little investigation had informed Frederick that the driver in question usually came into town on Tuesdays and Fridays.
It was Friday. The owner of the shop where Frederick worked was not in today because he had traveled to attend a funeral. Frederick had decided to take this opportunity to attempt to settle this question of whether or not the driver usually visited his house. He asked his colleague to take over his work for the rest of the day.
As he rode his bicycle home, thoughts raced through his mind. Supposing the driver did not visit today? Frederick would still have no way of knowing the truth. Would he pressure Margaret to confess? But what if there was nothing to confess? What if he found the driver in the house? What would Frederick do? Confront him? Confront Margaret? Leave their home? Send Margaret away? If he and Margaret parted, what would happen to their son?
He took the last turn to his house. He could see the door. He dismounted the bicycle and pushed it up the path towards the house. His hands were getting sweaty. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
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To be continued.
Baba Amor's Thoughts 