Nduka knew drinking was not his thing; the last time he participated was Kewe’s birthday, his friend. He drank to a stupor and slept there embarrassing himself by vomiting all night which not only kept Kewe awake but cleaning everywhere was also a problem as Nduka was swimming in his stream of vomit and Amid, another friend of theirs took some pictures of him to show him so that he would know what was good for him and what was not.
The problem Nduka has was that he lacked discipline and self-control and immediately he had three shots on any occasion, he would continue drinking till he blacked out and all this was on his mind this faithful Saturday night as he couldn't hold the pain that struck him like an arrow in his chest affecting his heart in particular. He had just heard the most shocking news of his life as he stepped out of the house he once called home.
The last statement he heard from Chinma still echoed in his mind, in a soft, calm, but firm manner.
“ I am sorry Nduka. I don't love you the way I used to,” Chinma, his fiancée, said to him that night as he knelt down to propose to her. It felt like something inside him cracked quietly.
He walked silently and quietly without uttering a word, purposelessly, until the streetlights blurred into streaks of yellow. Without thinking any more, he pushed open the creaking door of Vintage Bar, the only place still open at that hour.
The bartender, a tired middle-aged man polishing the same glass for five minutes, looked up.
“ Rough night?” He asked.
Nduka gave a half smile that didn't reach his eyes.
“Something like that, “ he replied, stammering.
Nduka sat at the far end of the counter where the light was dim and nobody would try to make conversation. He ordered one drink, then another, then another. Each gulp burned his throat but also numbed his chest just enough to silence the ache.
The bar slowly emptied until Nduka was the only customer left as the clock ticked loudly in a mocking way.
At closing time, he was lost in a stupor, eyes glassy, mind foggy, and heart heavy. Memories of Chinma’s laughter, her smile, and their promises swirled into a painful blur.
The bartender finally approached him gently.
“ Son, it is time to go”.
Nduka blinked, struggling to stand without replying.
“ It is closing time,” the man uttered again calmly as Nduka could barely hold himself upright. He staggered out into the cool night, dragging his feet along the quiet road. In his mind, he was heading home but in reality, he was just moving wherever the darkness allowed.
At last, he stopped in front of a small veranda with a cement step. To his drunken eyes, it looked welcoming, warm, and familiar.
“ Home sweet home,” he whispered, smiling weakly.
He lowered himself onto the step and curled up like a child. The night breeze wrapped around him as he drifted into sleep, believing he had arrived safely in his own bed but it wasn't his house. It wasn't even close. The real owner an elderly woman next door, opened his door at dawn and nearly screamed as the elderly woman was arrested with sudden fear.
“I know him. Is this not Nduka?” the elder woman soliloquizes before shouting, “ Nduka!! What are you doing here?”. Nduka jolted awake, rubbing his eyes, confused. The embarrassment hit him harder than alcohol ever did.
“ I thought”
He paused, realizing how foolish it sounded.
“ I thought I was home,” Nduka said, gulping spit down his throat.
The elderly woman sighed, the way mothers do when they see a wounded heart.
“ I know heartbreak can scatter someone's sense of thinking,” the elderly woman murmured gently.
“ Come inside and drink water “ she concluded.
Nduka nodded slowly.
He stood up and the early morning sun warmed his face, and for the first time since yesterday, he allowed himself to breathe.
“ I thought drinking would help ease my pain,” Nduka told the elderly woman who handed a cup of water to him.
“It never does, but it tells you something,” the elderly woman replied.
“ What is that?” Nduka asked.
“That you are still alive” she replied. “And life is not finished with you”.
Nduka stared at her as the words were slowly sinking into his brain. Maybe he didn't made it home last night but somehow, he found a place that reminded him that he was not alone in this world, so he felt almost new, not from the alcohol but from the weight of everything he had to let go and each step he took, the world felt a little less heavy and the pain felt a little less sharp.
Now he knew that closing time, which revolves around ending what doesn't work for him, is sprouting out a beginning of something new.
I hope he stays on a sober path! It seems drinking may have ruined his love life and could ruin more if he doesn't.
Thank you for reading and viewing with such a concise point. Greetings.