5.3 The Backdrop

She stepped out of the blue gate into the rays of the descending sun wearing a long high waist black skirt and a matching sleeveless cropped top with a scoop neck, stylish sunglasses and black dolly shoes. She passed him a black and blue tote bag and corrected a small shoulder bag. She said goodbye to the two kids who rushed out of gate, “Mamma will be back in the morning.”

“Bye, mamma! Take care!” her children echoed.

Who would care with a mother’s little helper in the shelter, “We walk pass your gate,” said Nisha.

“Fine,” replied Muaz carrying his bicycle and her bag on his shoulder.

They strode pass Mesquite and four blocks away reached Ranaka Inn on the west of the playground near the Olympus Theatre for their convenience. West Road at the hour lay in total shade. A guesthouse hidden behind a sturdy growth of deep pink bougainvillea over a white wall and a pale grey gate.

Forefront covered of white sand and pot plants placed around. A suite of chairs and a coffee table at the far corner and two ladies seated there. A wooden door on the left led to a lobby, formerly a sitting room converted to a reception with a counter, and their room with access to the lobby.

She entered after him and whispered, “Our room is in front of the counter,” being aware of the counter girl who could hear.

“All rooms are full,” responded Muaz.

Nisha peeped out one more time, glanced at the counter girl and closed the door behind, “Show me what you have!” She took off her glasses and dropped her bag on the bed.

Muaz opened his bag and showed three bottles of liquor and six cans of beer.

She frowned, “We’ll need glasses and ice, lots of ice.” She opened her tote bag and pulled out a towel and a white lace frock, “I hope you like this! Where is the bathroom?”

“At the end of the corridor. It’s a public bath.”

Nisha opened the door and peered, “Where can I iron this?”

The counter girl moved out, “Ma’am, I can do it for you. It’s in the service area.”

“Thanks, it’s very kind of you! Can I get some ice and two glasses.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Nisha closed the door and pulled her panties down under the skirt. She dropped them on the bed. She picked a pair of sandals from the bag and wore them on her feet.

Door knocked.

“Come in!” The girl entered with two glasses and a bowl of ice. “Don’t you have an ice bucket? I need more ice.”

“Our fridge is small,” replied the girl with short-cut hair, “There is a café around the corner.”

“Thank you. What is your name?”

“Shiru. Anything else, ma’am?”

“Nope.” Nisha turned to Muaz, “Let’s start with Bacardi!” She sat down on the bed on the farther side and removed her tank top, “Do not look! I’m a shy girl.”

He glanced while engaged with the bottle, “What do you mix with, coke, soda or ice?”

“Coke and ice.”

As soon as he poured the content, its smell took over the entire room and the lobby. “Here is your glass, Nish!” She wrapped the towel, dropped the skirt and took the glass.

“I’ll put some music on my cassette player,” said Muaz.

“What do you play?”

“I brought some disco, Earth, Wind and Fire, Bee Gees, Abba, America, Eagles, Dawn…”

“Dawn. Good choice.”

Nisha went to the water closet at the end of the corridor. Muaz picked those black panties and examined; lace fabric, soft and tiny – an invisible G-string. His mind returned to the day she was on the beach wearing a black thong in Thora. He sneakily touched the fabric to his nose and smelt. He was aroused.

When she returned, her white dress was placed neatly on the bed after a hot iron. She dropped her towel and wrapped a yellow cashmere shawl. For a moment she posed a naked backside.

“I see a beautiful spot out there. Nobody is there, I think. Shall we go out!” suggested Nisha.

Nisha stepped into the bright light of the lobby. The girl at the counter leered from head to toe. Others in the house glared at the woman and shivered excitedly.

Those chairs were placed outside their window. Nisha and Muaz sat there drinking and it was very quiet. Then a couple of women appeared in the lawn and some kids ran around. Shiru at the counter already whispered to them about the peculiar odour.

After dinner, they dressed for the concert. Nisha wore that sleeveless, layered white frock with belt and V-neck. Muaz wore jeans and a red shirt.

At eight, they reached the Olympus Theatre and entered the crowd. Soon they were seated, lights out and the curtains cascaded. First skit of the evening was a play. Before the interval break, they performed a burlesque. A bunch of girls danced in raincoats with umbrellas and the rain really poured on the stage. They wore gumboots and hats. In the dance, they removed their raincoats screened behind the black umbrellas, tossed them and exchanged them trickily and teasingly.

During the break, she stepped to the backstage and Muaz followed. They entered this area from the east side. There stood a row of changing rooms on the right and a music practising room at the far end. Nisha talked with one of the performers; a brown girl called Muna and he could not forget the name. She was the principal in the burlesque. Muaz moved around in the dim light and the voices of the performers. He lingered at the music room and poked his head. He saw a guy pass a cigarette butt to a woman in there. Muaz sauntered towards the theatre house and peered at a huge door on a raised platform. This area was lit bright and brighter was the interior. He could see the backdrop panels, a crossover space as large as the acting stage and a glimpse of the red curtain above and drawn to close. Nisha called him to get back stubbing a cigarette butt on the ground.

After the break, the legendary Naífaru Dohokko made an appearance. Finally, The Olympians on stage delivered their hits.

Back at the inn, Nisha wrapped the yellow shawl and sat outside in the garden. The lobby turned to a dim light and Shiru gone home. Three local female guests sat with her in the sand-filled garden under the orange lights and bougainvillea plants. Nisha continued drinking; Irish whiskey, gin and rum.

Music played on his cassette player until around two when Muaz dropped to bed.

“I have run out of cigarettes. Shall we buy some more soft drinks!” she demanded.

Four went to a small café around the corner and had no luck to buy a pack of cigarettes. They decided to walk further to Buruzu Magu and at the hour, the roads were empty. They entered a bistro called Austral near the southern dump area. It looked quite vacant apart from a few tables occupied by some men. Two workers mopped the floor tiled in tiny blue and brown squares, dark and shiny. Four lingered by the tall counter waiting for the order. Those men kept stuffing their mouths hardly able to swallow food eyeballing at Nisha whose side boobs got exposed in the rip down to the waist.

It was unusual for women to enter the floor and women never dined in pubs and bistros. If they came to buy something, they wait outside the door. Women used to go to restaurants and snack bars.

Six-thirty in the morning, Nisha was exhausted on drinks and sloped on the road. She sat on a stone step of a blue door next to the lodge, stark naked and drunk in the morning sun, in the middle of her own piddle.