A Chance For Love

  ***

  A huge fist slammed into me, forcing me to bolt upright in bed, a shriek escaping my throat. My heart hammered, aiming to burst out of my chest. My drenched night gown and my damp bed stole my attention.

  The sound of plastic smacking the floor hit my ears, bringing my attention to my stepmother. She stood a few steps away, glaring at me. Beside her, a bucket lay on its side; the bucket she had just emptied on me.

  "Good morning," I said.

  Snapping her fingers, she said, "Get up, you lazy bone!"

  Like a robot, I sprang to my feet. Head bowed, hands held behind my back, I awaited her next order. I watched the water from my body glide to my feet. Forming a pattern, they plopped down on the floor.

  "You are to do the dishes, launder my clothes and Cynthia's, scrub the floors, clean the entire compound and wash the cars right away. Only when you're done can you have breakfast. Did I forget to mention anything?"

  "The glassware," I said.

  "And the toilets," she said. "I will be back to inspect. And if on my return I find that you skipped anything, I will-"

  "Hack you into tiny bits and feed you to the street dogs," I said. I knew her pick up line all too well.

  "What did you just say?" she fumed, her face like a cloudy day.

  She lunged at me. I ducked, brushing past her. A knock at the gate forced a giggle from my mouth. We had a visitor. This placed our cat and rat session on hold.

  Snapping her fingers, she said, "It's me and you in this house today."

  Did she think she could scare me with that? What would she do that hadn't been done before? She had made me pass through fire, forced me through the thorny gates of hell and taught me to embrace pain. Nothing scared me at this point.

  Drops of water trailed after me as I made for the gate. Once there, I yanked it open. Taken aback by the person staring back at me, I could only gasp. I certainly hadn't been expecting my fairy godmother. My stepmother wouldn't like this one bit. But despite this, a smile tore through my lips.

  "Good morning, fairy godmother."

  She did not return my smile. Her gaze locked on my drenched clothes. "What is this?"

  I looked away, groping for the perfect lie. "I'm a heavy sweater when I sleep."

  After she'd stepped into the premises, I moved to lock the gate, grateful for a chance to hide my face so she couldn't see through my lie.

  She tugged at my arm, her eyes flying wide. "I know you, Victoria. All week, I watched you sleep for no less than four hours at a time. And you certainly aren't a heavy sweater. Besides, you sweat all over your hair too?"

  "I-"

  She shook her head. "Tsk. Tsk. If I find that that witch did this to you, I swear, it'll be an eye for an eye."

  Without another word, she made for my room. I trailed after her. The door to my room flew open and she burst in, halting almost immediately as she found the emptied bucket and the drenched bed.

  "That woman has certainly overdone it this time," she fumed. "And she will get what she's asking for."

  Shaking her head, she picked up the bucket. I had no idea what she planned to do. But I knew it would be nothing to smile about.

  "Stella, please," I said.

  She raised her non-dominant hand, splaying her fingers in a 'stop' gesture. Her other fingers bowed, leaving only the pointer to poke my shoulder.

  "Don't even say a word," she said, her voice cold as death. "Now, show me to the kitchen at once!"

  I'd never thought a day would come when I'd be conflicted about obeying my fairy godmother. She'd always been friendly, an angel. But today, I saw a different side of her.

  "Show me to the kitchen, I said!"

  Unable to hold her flaming gaze, I looked away, swallowing hard. "This...M.. way."

  She muttered a few incoherent words. I could only grasp the last phrase. "An eye for an eye!"

  A sudden realization sent a shiver down my spine as she headed for the fridge. She would empty bottles of cold water into the bucket and empty the bucket on someone.

  "You will show me to Cynthia's room," she said.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I can't."

  Stella smiled a threatening smile and tugged at my arm. Gripping it hard, she turned me toward the door, but I didn't budge.

  "I cannot," I said. "I won't."

  "Very well then. I guess it won't be difficult to find that step-sister of yours." Letting go of my arm, she started off toward the rooms. The first three doors showed her to empty rooms.

  And the next ...

  My heart shattered as it flew open. Cynthia lay in her air-conditioned room, on her king-sized bed, sleeping amidst pink pillows and teddy bears. Stella advanced to her.

  "Cynthia!" I called, my voice loud enough to wake the dead.

  Cynthia's eyes flew open just in time to watch the ruthlessly cold water lunge at her. She made to roll to safety, but didn't stand a chance. Drenched, she sprang to her feet.

  "What is the meaning of this?" she yelled. "How dare you insult me like this? What is the meaning of this?"

  Stella flung the bucket at Cynthia's feet. Shrieking, Cynthia side-stepped. The watery floor made her slip. I gasped as she hit the floor with a painful thud. Sat helplessly on the floor, and drenched to the bone, she wailed like a woman who'd just received news of her husband's death.

  I moved to help her, but Stella held me back. "Her mother will come."

  "What have you done?" I asked.

  Cynthia wailed on. She made no attempt to get off the floor. Obviously, she wanted her mum to find her in this state. This spelt trouble.

  "What's happening here?" My stepmother's voice boomed from the doorway.

  "Mummy," Cynthia whimpered. Catching sight of her, her mother rushed to kneel beside her.

  "My baby. What happened? Who did this to you?" She helped Cynthia get on her feet. Holding her in an embrace, she patted her back. "Come now, mummy is here. It's fine now."

  Stella smirked. "Now we're even."

  Glaring at Stella, my stepmother disentangled from the embrace. Her right hand lashed out, aiming for Stella's face. My breath caught in my throat. But the slap never landed.

  Stella gripped her hand, suspending it in the air, her glare matching my stepmother's. "Don't you dare."

  It took a few moments for Stella to detach her hand. She trusted my stepmother would not make another move. And for the sakes of both women, I hoped so. Cynthia looked between the two women, her eyes mirroring my fear.

  "So it hurts you to see your daughter abused," Stella said. "And yet, you do the same to someone else's child. A child who should be like a daughter to you! You go ahead and abuse her without any qualms. In the same way you carried your daughter in your womb for nine months, someone carried Victoria. She did not just fall from the sky. Neither was she born by an animal. No! She was born by a woman like you. And you go ahead and abuse her with no feeling of remorse? How could you be so evil?"

  "I will not let you come into my house and insult me," my stepmother said.

  "And I will not let you insult your stepdaughter and her mother's good name!" Stella said. "Once or twice, I met her mum at the orphanage. And she spoke of how it broke her heart to see the less privileged suffer. I will not watch you subject her child to the very same life she didn't want for other children."

  "If you love her as much as you claim, then just take her with you," Cynthia suggested.

  Stella seemed to consider Cynthia's offer. "I would if I could. But that would mean her leaving the house for you and your mother, wouldn't it?"

  "What do you want?" my stepmother asked. "Why are you here?"

  "I'm only here to remind you of the deal you signed. You best take it seriously. Tomorrow, I will be leaving for the Uk ..."

  Unable to conceal their excitements, Cynthia and her mother glanced at each other.

  "But I am not leaving her unprotected," Stella went on. "And the deal remains. You do well to remember that. I will have people on the lookout for
any form of abuse. And I will appoint a guardian in my place. So you best not get any ideas."

  Cynthia looked between her mum and Stella. "Mum, say something. How can you just let her threaten us in our own house?"

  "It's not a threat," Stella said. "When I threaten, trust me, you'll know of it. That said, today is my last day here in Nigeria, and so I am taking her out with me."

  "You will not-" My stepmother started.

  "It is my understanding that your daughter goes out with friends as she pleases," Stella said. "So, why can't your other daughter do the same?"

  After moments of unnerving silence, my stepmother said, "Return her by noon."

  "I will bring her before nightfall," Stella said. "And don't worry about chores. I'm sure Cynthia knows how to keep a house in order." Taking me by the hand, she led me to my room.

  The scene in Cynthia's room revolved around my head. What had I gotten myself into? Would they not kill me once I returned home? Would Stella be with me then? No. I would be all alone to feel my stepmother's wrath. And after what Stella had done, they would sure hate me burying imaginable.

  Oblivious to the danger she'd placed me in, Stella rummaged through my closet. "Goodness gracious. It's almost unbelievable that the very same woman who abuses you cares enough to give you a fitting wardrobe."

  A smile tugged at my lips. "She wants her public to believe she treats me the same way she treats her daughter."

  "That sure is something," Stella said. "Go freshen up while I find a perfect outfit for our outing.

  "I'm afraid I can't go," I said.

  "What?"

  "My stepmother-"

  Stella snapped. "I am not listening to your silly talks! You will go freshen up and prepare for our outing. Look at you, your father's death has you locked up in this woman's cage. You don't even know what fun is anymore. You only do the things she let you do. Chores. Chores. School. And more chores. Where's the fun in this?"

  "I have fun," I said. "I have fun at school with my friends."

  Stella rolled her eyes. "Great. You could also say you have fun with the rats and roaches while doing your chores."

  I grinned. "That too."

  "I'm done listening to this. You are going out with me, Victoria Brown. And I will not take no for an answer. Come on, this is my last day here. Will you actually deny me my last wish?" She batted her lashes at me.

  When she put it like that, how could I turn her down? "I need to hurry with my chores then."

  "Vicky dear, you shouldn't worry yourself," she said. "I want today to be a holiday for you. Cynthia will do the chores."

  "You don't understand. It won't feel right to just walk away, leaving the chores undone. Please. I promise I'll be fast."

  Stella weighed my request for a moment or two. "Fine then. The movie doesn't start till twelve anyway."

  "We are going to see a movie?" My eyes beamed with excitement.

  "A movie called Cinderella Retold," she said. "It's new."