The Sweet Revenge………….Part 1

 

You can learn a lot about someone by playing tennis with them. Generally I've found that guys who are gentlemen on the tennis court are also gentlemen in their off-court lives. Conversely, I watched a guy display the worst sportsmanship I had ever seen while playing his best friend. It was no surprise to me later on when the guy abandoned his family and ran off with another man's wife.

And then there's Dele Oyebanjo. Dele is a big guy; in fact, he played football at Sumbolo Tech until he blew out his knee. Once the orthopedic surgeon had repaired it, Dele switched to tennis. But he plays tennis like a football player, hitting booming serves and blasting away at the net man from the baseline.

But I can beat him. I like to come to the net and put pressure on him to hit it by me. As often as not, he'll over hit and bounce the ball off the back fence. And don't get me started on his line calls. Let's just say that the benefit of the doubt always goes his way when he's making the call.

As a result, Dele always wants to play me. He just can't stand losing to "a little guy." Now I'm not little, I'm actually six feet tall. But I'm pretty lean and wiry, which makes me little compared to Dele, who's three inches taller and seventy-five pounds heavier than me.

Not surprisingly, I don't really care to play with Dele, but he's hard to avoid because we both live in the same area. Since Lagos is such a big tennis town, our subdivision was built around a clubhouse with a pool and lots of tennis courts. With so many people playing on teams in the Lagos Lawn Tennis Association, it's pretty hard to avoid someone like Dele.

But the good news is that I also get to play with a lot of really nice people -- like my mixed doubles partner, Kike Akerele. I met Kike through my wife, Fidelia. Fidelia is a Pilates instructor, and a lot of people who live in our area take classes at her studio, including Kike. Unfortunately for me, Fidelia doesn't care for tennis, but when she learned that Kike was looking for a partner, she introduced me, and Kike and I have been playing together for about a year now.

The club we were playing in today's match was out of town , so I had offered to drive Kike to save fuel. Given the way traffic builds up on a Saturday afternoon, we gave ourselves forty-five minutes to get there.

As she emerged from her front door, I wondered yet again why Kike was still single. Part of it was that she'd lost her husband in an automobile accident three years ago. After lengthy mourning period, one of the ways she'd coped with her grief was to join Fidelia's Pilates class. Another way was to get back into tennis, which she'd played in secondary school. The result of all that physical activity was a fit, trim dark- woman in her early thirties. I would have expected a woman as pretty as Kike to draw suitors like flies to honey. But she kept telling Fidelia that she just hadn't found the right man.

"Hello, Kike," I greeted her when she opened my car door, "are you ready to get 'em today?"

She grinned at me. "You bet, Femi. I've been looking forward to a rematch with these guys for a long time."

We were talking about our strategy for the match as I pulled out into the road, but I was interrupted by the ringing of my phone. "Hi, Ade. You're kidding! No, it's perfect here.  OK, we'll reschedule."

Kike looked at me quizzically as I took the next exit and began heading back home. "That was our opponent," I told her. "He told me that a rainstorm just passed through and the courts are unplayable." Lagos is notorious for isolated showers that can drench one area of the city while the sun is shining brightly only a few miles away.

Kike was clearly disappointed. "Darn it, I was really looking forward to playing today."

"Listen," I said, "why don't we go back to the club? We can get in some practice, and maybe there'll be somebody there willing to play."

When I pulled into the main entrance , I turned off on the road to my home. "I just want to stop and pick up my check for this quarter's club dues," I told Kike. "I won't be but a minute."

I parked at the curb and dashed to the front door. I made out the check last night and left it on my dresser, so I knew just where to find it. But as I walked down the hall, I heard noises coming from the master bedroom, sounds that I shouldn't have heard.

"Oh, please, do that some more. Yes, just like that. Ohhh!"

That was Fidelia's voice! What in the hell?

I tiptoed down the hall and peeked in the door. Fidelia was lying naked on the bed, her legs draped over the side and spread wide. Between them, a man was crouching, using his mouth and hands on her as she moaned and gasped.

I felt as though I  was in an auto accident. I was stunned, unable to move, unable to think. Everything had suddenly changed, and I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Then the man stood up and lifted Fidelia's legs high to facilitate his penetration. "No, this can't be happening," I thought as I recognized the figure of Dele Oyebanjo. I heard her moan as he slid into her. Then she was chanting, "Oh god, oh yes, oh god!"

I staggered back from the door as though I been hit by a fist. It was just too much to bear. My first impulse was to charge into the room and attack him. "But what good would that do?" I asked myself despairingly. "They've already cheated on me; fighting him won't change that. Besides, even if I got in the first blow, he's so much bigger than me that he'd still be able to beat me to a pulp. But I don't want him to get away it."

As I stood there, I suddenly remembered Kike waiting in the car. "Oh, shit, I've got to get her home first, then I can come back here to face them," I thought.

I found myself walking back down the hall and out the front door in a daze. I felt like I might vomit at any second. I glanced up and saw Kike peering at me through the car window. A moment later I climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.

I don't know what I looked like, but it couldn’t have been good. "Are you all right, Femi?" Kike asked anxiously as she stared at me. I couldn't speak. I gripped the wheel as tightly as I could while steering the car toward Kike's home. When I pulled up out front, I put the car in Park and spoke without looking at her, "I'm sorry, Kike, but I'm not going to be able to hit with you today."

"What is it, Femi, what's happened?" she asked with growing concern.

When I didn't respond, she reached over and turned off the ignition; then she took the keys with her as she got out and came around to my door. I turned toward her. "I have to go, Kike. Please let me have the keys back."

"No," she said firmly, "not until you tell me what happened."

When I didn't say anything, she opened the car door and tugged on my arm. "You're not going anywhere until you come inside and tell me what's going on."

Robotically I got out of the car and let her lead me into her home. She disappeared for a second and returned with a glass of ice water. I sipped on it automatically as she watched. When I set the glass down, she took my hand and pressed it in hers. "Tell me, Femi. What happened in there?"

To be continued.........................................