My Sister Is the Abalone Queen / Chapter 3: Abalone Day Wahala
My Sister Is the Abalone Queen

My Sister Is the Abalone Queen

Author: Stacey Herrera


Chapter 3: Abalone Day Wahala

The first day wey I help for shop na first of the month—abalone day.

The tension for the air dey like say new governor dey come. Everybody sharp eye. The air for outside thick with sweat and perfume, boys dey fan themselves with old betting slips.

I wake early, reach shop, people don line up already.

E shock me, because some people dey sleep for car since midnight. Na so the wahala reach.

As we open door, I share number tag, tell them say abalone go come later. Some people don dey vex.

People dey grumble, “This one na stress. No be say dem go even give us correct food last last.”

“Wetin be all this? We wake early, come queue, hope say this food go worth am. All these Facebook restaurants na just noise, food no dey ever good.”

One young guy just slump for table, dey complain.

E be like say hunger dey wire am pass others. Him dey press phone, dey post for Twitter.

The older man wey sit with am just smile one kind:

“Just chop am first. This abalone different—one bite, you go feel like say God touch you. Nowhere else get am.”

He use that kind calm voice wey elders dey use when dem dey teach you chess. You go just dey respect.

The young guy just dey doubt: “E sure? No be scam?”

He look round, dey squeeze face like person wey wan cry.

One old man for the next table just join mouth:

“You go know when you chop am. This abalone na correct tonic. I pass sixty, after I chop am, my wife and I enjoy well well.”

Him face just dey shine anyhow, but the people around just dey smile and nod.

Everybody just dey laugh small, some dey clap for table. E be like say na old boys’ club.

I just confuse more, wan ask question, na that time my parents carry foam box enter.

As dem enter, everywhere quiet. You for think say na governor dey enter market.

“Abalone don reach, everybody fit order now.”

Na so men start to dey arrange seat, dey clear throat. You go see lawyer dey rush serve own plate.

The people near just dey shine eye: “Wetin else we wan order? Two abalones each, abeg!”

You go hear, “Oga, abeg, reserve my own, make I call my brother for phone!”

“Abeg, make una hurry cook! We don wait half month for this!”

Some people dey almost quarrel over queue, but Papa dey handle am gently.

“All right, e dey come!”

Mama dey enter kitchen with small dance, her wrapper just dey jangle for side.

My parents carry the box enter kitchen, call me make I help.

I rush follow, see as Papa dey arrange abalone like person wey dey handle fragile egg.

“Where your senior sister today?”

E ask am with one kind low voice, like say e no wan make customer hear.

Dad face no change. He wave hand: “She get her own wahala. Why you dey ask plenty question?”

He just carry face go stove, begin dey wash hand again.

I just join work, but for my mind, I dey reason—today wey busy pass, na today my sister no show. That one no be Dad style, he no dey like make person slack.

E dey suspicious because, for our house, if work dey, everybody dey carry body. But this one, Papa no even mention am again.

Soon, abalone finish, but people still dey come.

Dem dey complain say dem go pay double for next time, if dem fit get pre-order.

That young man wey dey complain before, now dey lick plate, dey shout say two abalone no reach.

He dey wipe mouth, dey look around like person wey wan lick wall.

“Abeg, rush go house bring more abalone!”

Na so everybody for kitchen look me. Mama nod, “Go sharp sharp!”

I agree, rush go house with my okada.

I dey speed, my heart dey beat. Na abalone be the gold, if e finish, dem fit close shop.

Door lock from inside. I knock tire before my sister open.

She open with small strength, like person wey just finish race. Even her wrapper dey one side.

Her face red, sweat dey her forehead, she dey breathe hard.

She look me like person wey dey try hide pain.

“Sis, wetin happen?”

I dey eye her body. Her hand dey shake.

“N-nothing, why you come back?”

Her voice low, e be like say she wan cry.

“Papa and Mama say make I bring more abalone.”

I try peep her room, but she block the door.

Her face come pale. “I no well at all. Make we sell small, abeg.”

She rub her neck, dey sigh.

I just confuse: “Make I carry you go chemist?”

The way I talk am, fear dey my voice. I dey think say maybe malaria dey worry her.

She just eye me: “You… abeg leave am. Wait, I go bring am come.”

Her eye sharp, like person wey dey hide something.

She waka enter bedroom.

As she close door, I hear key lock. E strange because my sister no dey lock room before.

Small time, I just dey hear strange moan and heavy breathing from inside. I begin dey mutter Psalm 23 for under my breath, dey bind every spirit. E be like say animal dey inside room. My heart dey beat, I begin dey pray under my breath.

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