Bristles of betrayal
Mukandi Siame
“Do you have a maid?”
“Catherine, of course I have a maid. Umbonashani??” Changala snapped.
“Do you have a toothbrush?”
“Catherine, I…”
She interrupted him, and as she spoke he sniffed his breath in case her questions had merit. This is how it had always been. A group of friends, held together by bonds of youth they once shared.
“So, imagine you’re sitting here, enjoying that chilled beer,” Catherine said, “And your maid is at home, using your tooth brush. Let’s increase the stakes, your maid is at home putting the toothbrush in her butt and placing it back in its holder, steamy with her butt juices.”
“I doubt any normal human being would do that.” Changala’s girlfriend broke in. It was her first sentence of the evening after the introductions.
“That’s the mistake we make. We assume human beings are normal.” Catherine stated, “Having a security camera installed for your toothbrush is not something a normal person should do. So, you do the normal thing, you leave it at home and trust that it is safe. But how do you know your toothbrush is even at home now?”
Bruce shifted in his chair, the seat beside him was empty. It was fitting that he was the first among them to wrinkle and sprout grey hair. Bruce was always the serious one, pondering issues deeper than their young minds could bother with. He probably caught on to the analogy first but didn’t let on. This wasn’t about him and his absentee wife, this was about Changala and how he acted like he knew everything.
The conversation wouldn’t have started if Changala hadn’t been ignorant enough to say, “I wouldn’t marry, imagine living happily kanshi someone is chowing your bae behind the scenes.”
It was a sensible fear but it was foolish to utter the words in front of married people and his current girlfriend. The girl on Changala’s side was now aware that the sun would set on her youth before Changala put a ring on it. Cheating was a worry for single people, but it was more than that for married people. It was adultery — recognisable by society, law and religion. Catherine wasn’t going to stop until that was clear.
“So, you go home, your toothbrush is dry. You feel safe because there’s no evidence of anything sinister.” Catherine said, “You replace your toothbrush often and you’re comfortable enough to call other toothbrush owners silly, boring and unhygienic.” Catherine picked a carrot off her husband’s plate and chewed it with a natural elegance.
It was becoming clear what she was driving at but nobody was willing to get involved, not her husband, not sensible Bruce or Changala; the fool who had started it. His girlfriend fiddled with her fork. Her make-up was so well done that it made her face more expressive instead of static, the question of her looming replacement was written on her face.
“What if you found your toothbrush dripping wet?” She paused for a breath and continued, “the disgust, the torture of wondering what on earth happened. Did it fall in the toilet? Did someone use it? Will you catch a disease if you use it?”
“I’d throw it away! Ah nobody has time for that?”
Bruce recoiled, Changala wasn’t ready for marriage, not because he had fears, but because he never shut his mouth and still imagined he could win an argument with a woman. He glanced at Catherine’s husband, a man who had long resigned to silence in these sorts of conversations.
Catherine smiled at the satisfaction on Changala’s face. She was about to end him. “Characteristically yes, you would. But what is your guarantee that your next toothbrush won’t be meddled with behind your back, or the next and the next and the next.”
“It’s not the toothbrushes fault, it’s not even your maids. It’s the risk of owning a toothbrush. You either decide to own one, enjoy the benefits, or become that weird guy who changes his toothbrush every other day.”
“I could carry it with me.” Changala proposed.
“That’s even more unhealthy. The bacteria you encounter on your daily life will suffocate your poor toothbrush and you will lose it eventually.” Catherine countered.
Bruce thought of his toothbrush, out there, enjoying her freedom. She was always wet for him, he’d never know if someone else used her. He liked her wet anyway.
“It’s not the sharing part about cheating that gets you. It’s the betrayal. The violation of trust. The paranoia that results from it and the disgust. The disgust.” Catherine glared.
“Changala, something you will understand only after marriage is that it’s not just a girlfriend, it’s a life partner. Right now, you cannot imagine the level of intimacy that springs from anchoring someone’s life, from sharing your investments, your health — everything. It’s the disgust that gets you really.” Catherine tossed her fork aside and dabbed her lips with the napkin.
“This is why cheating is not dinner time conversation.” Bruce said.
All that, just to make a point. Changala’s girlfriend made a few attempts at her steak before she gave up. The decline of activity at the table was evident, a waiter conveniently swooped in and offered to pack their meals for the road.
“Catherine just can’t let things go.” Changala said on the way home. His words met silence, he embraced it and reclined into his thoughts. The warm smell of steak and mashed potatoes filled the car even after he dropped off his girlfriend. They exchanged rigid goodbyes and she disappeared into her flat, wondering if this was one of their last dates.
Alone in his sanctuary, Changala managed to relax. He changed into his pyjamas and allowed his toes to melt into the soft fur mat by his bed. He was safe in the home he worked hard to keep luxurious and tuned to his tastes. When it was time to brush his teeth, he picked up his toothbrush, rubbed its bristles and was sure it was dry. Yet he still tossed it into the bin.
About the author: Mukandi Siame believes that words are life. This is a belief she pours into all her dynamic roles. She has received a Zambian Women Writers’ Award and has made appearances in The Budding Writer anthology, The Educator, Agropro Magazine and Nkwazi Magazine. Mukandi is a member of the Reinventing Democracy Children’s Initiative and Zambia institute of marketing.
