DEO’S DIARY EPISODE 9- COULD DAD BE BISEXUAL?

I feel sad. No! I feel too sad to call it sad. Perhaps I’m downhearted, downcast or depressed - that sounds more like it, but doesn’t quite nail it yet. I think the word to use is suicidal but then it’s just the feeling minus the whole suicide drama if that makes any sense. But then again I think I’m just plain tired. Tired of life, tired of home, tired of even been tired! I found myself with no appetite yet ate everything that came my way. I had fried yam and egg, white rice and fish stew, then cereal for breakfast. I had more rice for lunch but this time with vegetable stew, beans and plantain and the peperoni pizza I saw on the dining table and don’t even get me started on what I plan to eat for dinner or even what I’m binging on while I write. What's wrong with me today, how I got here, why I feel the way I do were the series of questions that kept racing through my mind. If you asked me, otherwise feeling uncertain, today was just like any other Friday with dad at work, mom at God knows and me here at home with nobody but me. The closest thing to human company was the TV blaring in the background. I got tired of walking around the house, half naked, searching for items that weren’t lost. So you see, there was really nothing to do but eat, eat and eat some more. I decided to go lighter by having oriental noodles which reminded me of the last time I felt the way I feel and although sited at the dining table my mind was way back in the past trying to recall facts from that faithful day. I staggered back to the present by the sudden vibration on the table. My phone was on my lap so I wondered whose that could be. Running through the items on the table, dad’s phone surfaced next to the fruit basket, still vibrating, notifying he has a call from Fola. Trying to decide on whether I pick or not, I made a mental checklist of both family and friends, inclusive of those I know that work with dad and found it intriguing that no name with F popped up. Fola for all I know could be the short name for Afolashade, Afolabi, Afolayan, and even those names didn’t ring a bell. So I concluded it’s best to respects daddy’s privacy by not picking up the call but I couldn’t put the Sherlock Holmes in me on lock down. I just had to find out for myself who Fola is. I couldn’t help but ponder on brain racking questions like; could Fola be the reason dad has been coming home late? Could dad be cheating on mom but most importantly cheating on me with Fola? Is Fola a distant relative, my cousin or even my own sibling or perhaps a business associate of dad’s???? Was I over reacting or being paranoid by wanting to know? I didn’t think so. I picked up dad’s phone hoping I could get a clue or two by looking through it, but surprisingly it was locked! Coded! Passworded! He could have as well thrown it down the sea or bury it underground. Why on earth would a grown man lock his phone? I honestly could not remember ever holding dad's phone since I clocked thirteen, but there it was in my hand, locked, away from me or any other prying eye.  For some, that would have been a clue to stop but for me. that is a clue to dig even deeper. I mean even Adam and Eve, better still Eve and Adam couldn’t resist the forbidden fruit so why should I? First things first, I needed to crack the code. I tried his birth year “1964” but that didn't work, I tried mom's birth year “1967” but that was also wrong. I went on to try my birth year “1990” and was disappointed still. With seven trials left before the phone wipes its own memory, a little voice in my head whispers ‘try Fola’ I would easily have disregarded the thought, but then what exactly do I have to lose? So I tried “Fola” which is “3652” I punched in each number, convinced that it was wrong but to my astonishment the phone unlocked! I am a fucking genius! James bond has nothing on me! Without hesitation, I clicked on the message icon, ran through both his inbox and outbox in minutes and there was nothing to or from Fola. Relentlessly I likewise browsed through his gallery scrutinizing every picture and video that there is and that came out clean too. With the help of the file manager icon I was able to go through the rest of the phone in an instant and there was no evidence of Fola aside her contact information and then a composed draft. Without thought I returned to the message icon, and inside the draft folder was this unsent message addressed to Fola but not only was it left unsent, it was uncompleted too. It read “I'm always thinking of you, just give sometime to” Sometime to what? To leave mom? To abandon me? To do what exactly? I went crazy for roughly a minute or two and couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t stand it, couldn’t entertain the thought of dad not only cheating on us but loving this woman enough to leave all this behind. I wish I had his second phone with me too. Perhaps that would have led me to something more concrete that all the random ideas I'm entertaining in my head. I decided it was best I copied Fola's number from his phone. It seemed like my only chance to get to the bottom of this. I pulled myself together, with my heart clamoring in my chest, as I dialed the copied number on my phone. While the phone rang in my ear, a state of chaos was unleashed when I heard my dad driving through the gate. I figured he must have come back for his other phone. I ended the call abruptly, picking a napkin to wipe the already locked phone and returning it back to where I found it before dashing into the kitchen to hide myself for no reason at all. There in the kitchen I overheard dad talking to God knows who, while heading to the dining area to pick his phone up. As much as I tried, straining my ears, all I could pick from the conversation was ‘I don't want you calling my other line, if you can't get me on this, wait till I call back… I will pick you up after work by 5pm’ Shortly after I heard his car zoom out of the gate my phone started ringing and it was no one but Fola returning my attempted call. I picked the call with no idea of what to say. I introduced myself as Flaky and requested I speak with Fola. To say I was only horrified is an understatement; I was destabilized when a deep husky voice from the other end of the phone replied ‘yes speaking’. I ran out of words instantly and no matter how I tried I couldn’t find the strength and courage to utter another word. Here I was thinking Fola was a she who apparently turned out to be a he and to think she is a woman with a male voice is definitely more horrifying! I am just so eternally confused. Just few weeks ago it was a dildo in mum’s bag, Collins in mum’s house, annie with unexplainable desires and now it’s dad with the husky voice. Is dad bisexual? Or perhaps is he gay? Is that why mum has a dildo? Am I a product of artificial insemination? How on earth do I answer these questions? How will I ever figure this out? Oh Dairy! I wish I didn’t dig this time. In fact I wish I didn’t dig at all. These discoveries are too much to handle but you must agree that I’ve come too far to stop now.