Pretty Red Things

The rain began to pour down again after only a five minute break between when Fisayo left his home and made it to the bus stop. This was Lagos and hardly did bus stops have those glass sheds or kiosks that one would see in Hollywood movies. The ones that the leading female would briskly trek to in her work heels, her satchel over her head in a failing attempt to shield herself from the downpour till she got into the confined space of the bus stop. In Lagos, you would stand in the rain. And to make it worse for Fisayo, it was particularly frigid and windy too, typical for a rainy day in June.

Fisayo observed the downpour which had now shifted to a light shower. He shook his head as he looked around at the dark clouds that began to give way to some sunlight.

“Mother nature has it out for me today”, he thought to himself, “This weather seems to be messing with me”. After which, he took a quick glance at his watch. He was running late to work and knowing his supervisor, he was bound to get a stern talking to and maybe a warning letter. It had been the fourth time this month that he’d turn in late. But what could he do? He was a young bachelor, struggling to make ends meet with his dead-end job and failing repeatedly to pick his career up from the ground. His job was in the backwater customer hotline position at a microfinance establishment. He had originally applied for a public relations position, however he did not make the cut but the Human Resource manager was gracious enough to offer him a spot in customer service. Fisayo had bills to pay, so he took it. At least it kept a roof over his head.

Speaking of roofs, the light shower was starting to pick up momentum again. The previous beams of soft sunlight edging through thick gray clouds were nowhere in sight now. Fisayo was nearly soaked, he had no umbrella. After looking at his watch and around the oddly empty road, he came to the conclusion that the bus was delayed and he would be here a while. He’d take the yells from his supervisor, and the warning letter. It was June 28th, this dreadful month would be over soon enough, July would hopefully come with some more sunshine. Fisayo really did not like the month of June for several reasons. It was always rainy, and the gutters around his tiny studio flat would fill up, the perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. The mosquitoes were big and very bold, perching themselves in plain sight on his arm as he lazed in his bed or even as he made his meals. At night, they’d buzz so loudly and close to his ears that he’d often jerk up from his bed like he had been in some terrible nightmare. In Fisayo’s mind, he hated June. It was nothing but depressing weather, mosquitoes and over-running gutters. He did not even want to think about the flooding incident he had two weeks prior that had left his studio flat smelling like a wet dog for almost a week.

The rain came down slightly heavier now. Fisayo, like those damsels in the Hollywood films, tried to shield himself with his bag over his head, a pointless endeavour.

From the corner of his eye, Fisayo noted a particularly bright red hue approaching him. He peered closer, slightly turning to his left to see who was approaching.

It was a young woman. Smallish, chocolaty complexion and well dressed in a darkly coloured dress, not black but could pass for it. Fisayo noted her pretty features as she perched herself beside him, seemingly oblivious of him. She wore a neutral, almost tired expression on her face. Her eyelids were lowered and her eyes were devoid of any light. Fisayo continued to discreetly observe her till she spoke.

“Don’t you have an umbrella?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him with a cold expression, yet her voice sounded warm and comforting.

Fisayo, taken aback, struggled to get his answer out. “No...I mean yes, I just left it at home.”

The mystery woman then turned to Fisayo, he had a better view of her now. To his surprise, she had a case of heterochromia, giving one iris a green-blue appearance. He had heard of people with two different eye colours, but he had never seen anyone with such a condition before.

The lady, knowing fully well her strange eye colour had taken him aback, ignored his surprised look and proceeded to hand him her large bright red umbrella. Fisayo hesitated for a bit before he accepted it. He was going to say thank you when she began walking away in the direction that she came from.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you waiting for the bus?” he asked.

“The bus isn’t coming.” she said, glancing back at him.

“You should start walking to the next bus stop. Don’t lose that umbrella.” she said.

“How do I get it back to you?” Fisayo asked.

“It’s yours, so please do not lose it. And do not lend it to anyone either.” she said sharply and turned away from him again.

Fisayo found all this very strange, but despite his better judgement he accepted to keep the umbrella.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” he asked.

The young woman turned around, she had such poise, like an actress from the golden age of film. “My name is June.” she said with a smile that was both sweet and full of mischief. Before Fisayo could ask any more questions, she went her way. The rain was pouring now, pattering onto the ground yet somehow, her hair and clothes were still dry like the raindrops were simply bouncing off her clothing.

A lot about that encounter still made no sense to Fisayo. All he knew was that when he eventually got to work that day, he did not get a warning letter. He did not even get a scolding from the supervisor. And after that day, things miraculously got better for him at work. A vacancy in the public relations department came up, Fisayo applied and was hired. In a few years, he had enough to move out of the studio flat into a high-end maisonette and own a vehicle. Promotions came, he met a woman and started a family. Life began to smile down at Fisayo and it started with one red umbrella.