Horny and disoriented from a fevered sleep, I get up early and head for the stream. Fortuna is brushing her teeth right in front of her room. Just what I hate. I’m not a tidy person, but litter and dirt drive me crazy. The rains have ceased and the harmattan sets in. The grass lawn in front of the block of rooms is drying up. If she doesn’t pour water over the patch, it will look really irritating in a few hours. I reckon I will have to do it.

I shouldn’t go to the stream till I leave Abagboro, but I miss the quiet and calm I experience upstream during those days we didn’t have water, before the three boys flogged me with pronged whips. It’s just the breaking of the day and as I approach, I hear the villagers, mostly women, but the side I use is normally deserted.

I take the small path hardly noticeable and reach my place without detection. I feel a sense of peace and accomplishment. I dip my head in the water, and come up dripping and wet. The water flows to the top of my shirt.

I’m helpless in controlling my thoughts. Reminders of the sexual act between Toro and Steve Eko, a man she just met, leaves me shaken. Jealousy I don’t understand twist my innermost parts. I assure myself the jealousy is of brotherly love but I doubt.

I remain crouched at the edge of the stream till my calves give way then I pat the ground and make sure there are no stones but only wet dry leaves before I sit gingerly. Then I lay on my back to take some of the pressure off my wounds.

I close my eyes. The water on my head and face become chilly but it’s just what I need. I’m not too much into women but I’ve had one or two and know what it’s like. I don’t miss it, and I don’t want it… My heart beats faster. I go still. Maybe I do. Maybe I want it too much.

There’s movement around me. Another assault? No.

I sit up just in time. Bisi. What’s she doing here? She doesn’t see me but walks to the other side of the stream just a few meters away, her back is turned to me. She calls to someone and tells the person to stay where they are. If I make noise, she will see me. She will startle, turn. I hold my breath. A hanging tree shields me a little but I see her clearly.

She bends and removes her clothes from a wrapper. I’m confused now. Enthralled though. She has the same effect on me. Her movements are fluid, and graceful.

I quietly rest back and watch her. She washes the clothes she’s brought with her, and chat with the other person on the other side. Does she know I come here? Besides those boys who found and assaulted me, no one ever came to this place. It is hidden and the water is cleaner.

I suspect this girl. It can’t be a coincidence.

She finishes her washing and begins to undress. My head tells me to show my presence but the master between my legs object. I’m so turned on now, I can’t believe it. Still my eyes are glued to her.

I am a carnal man, what is the devil trying to do to me? When I got my posting letter to Abagboro, I vowed I will keep my head. I didn’t think I would face this kind of temptations but then just to be sure I know what I’m doing. I am only twenty-one. My anatomy longs for the natural things.

I can only see Bisi’s backside but it’s enough. Her skin is fair, and smooth and well-rounded. And I can’t take my eyes off. She lathers herself languorously, and hums a popularly church chorus.

I feel like the devil reincarnate. She must have come here for privacy and now I spy on her. I feel shame. Suddenly, the weather is hot, and no longer early morning coolness. I think I must have a full dip in the stream after she’s gone or I will die here.

She finishes her bath and begins to rub cream on her body.

I die.

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