SHARP- SHARP, THE KING AND I

I have always wondered if it is I who has the propensity for trouble or whether it is trouble which has the propensity for me, if that scenario ever existed, that is. It had all started innocently enough, another stroke of ‘genius,’ or so we thought to earn extra cash but as it so painfully turned out, the shortcut is not always the best cut, especially where money is concerned. “Damn it!” l cursed, “How could l possibly trust someone who names himself after an English monarch who is best remembered for being executed at Wetherill somewhere in the Middle Ages heralding a de facto end to royal absolutism” l pondered “and his close comrade, a person who for some strange, incomprehensible reason names himself Sharp-sharp,” l, sadly lamented. Now l found myself on the verge of being sacrificed, literally by an almost mythical loan shark who knew how to ‘execute’ a problem, l looked to King, then to Sharp, who were so knee deep in Dutch courage that one almost felt that Armageddon was upon by the way they were talking, and concluded that my reunion with the ‘other side’ was nigh.
Getting accommodation near campus was always a period of great suspense, you never really know who you may end up living with, as for me, thankfully, accommodation was already secured but the question of roommates was nagging heavily on mind. My suspense was however short lived as two merry looking souls were introduced to me my new co-tenants, Charles who was later to re introduce himself as King, after that ill fated monarch Charles 1 and Shepherd, who also re introduced himself as Sharp-sharp, sharp on the mind and sharp on the girls he`d always justify. After the usual cordial and partly nervy period of initial acquaintance we soon got on ‘like a house on fire’. As the usual rigors and ravages of varsity life, of poverty, and ...more poverty my erstwhile cohabitants came up with what looked like a reasonable plan, or it was perhaps the thought of economic relief which was making anything remotely associated with monetary gain sound good. I can remember it just like yesterday, King majestically arose and made his royal proclamation “gentleman, our current state of livelihood is perilously bordering on peasantry, the King can never live like a subject, God forbid! However, l have made a royal plan, we are to get royal concessionary financing from K.D. and use that money to purchase royal trinkets for a royal profit and live like what we ought to, the King has spoken,” all the while maintaining a dignified posture and look about him as if to emphasise his ‘esteemed status’.
Now, commodity brokerage was not a new thing at varsity, most people did it and made a tidy profit too, though l still do not know the extent of profit which could be calibrated as ‘royal’ which King had so eloquently talked. While l was thinking about what the profit could do around the house, Sharp had already figured it out, “just imagine all the liquor we can buy! Dear sweet, soothing alcohol, and just about time too, l was starting to think l was a teetotaller for crying out loud!” Somehow l wasn`t surprised by this outburst, Sharp had seemed rather low, though l hardly knew him, he always seemed somewhat suppressed, l could now only presume it was the alcohol, more so the lack of it that was taking its toll. It was on further enquiry about just who this K.D character was that alarm bells should have rang. He was described as the incarnate of Shakespeare`s Shylock, and more, this was the type of guy who would have his own brother arrested if he didn’t make good on a repayment, with arrest being an option when he was in a good mood, tales were abound of how he used ‘unorthodox’ means to inflict both physical and psychological trauma on his victims which no one dared to mention.
As our poverty stricken delegation made its weary way to K.D`s residence, we were met by his henchman, Gradem, now who on God`s good earth can call a child Gradem?, what could that possibly mean? And to top it all, the man was just as hideous as his ghastly name! “K.D is waiting, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you should know that by now,” he coldly informed. We hastily made our way in finding him seated on a comfortable armchair counting wards of cash with a grin of utter satisfaction on his cold face. I was amazed at how he did not even give us a look, just gesturing towards a small envelope and then pointing towards the door. “This is definitely far from royal treatment”, I thought, thinking that his royal highness will demand to be accorded his due respect, but it seemed he was the first to heard for the door, humbly so. Sharp just maintained a cool silence as if trying by all means not to get noticed. As we had just left, we opened the envelope and found two hundred dollars with a note written in bold “50% interest, 4 weeks, failure is not an option”. Somehow I suddenly felt that I had signed a blood covenant with the devil himself, and, just by looking at the faces of my fellow companions, the feeling seemed overwhelmingly mutual.
When we got home, l expected the royal decree as to just what we were going to do with the cash but the disastrous events that followed made a plan impossible. “first things first, gentlemen, let`s get some alcohol to think straight, nothing like a good pick-me-up to get the old motor running,” remarked Sharp, “excellent!”, added King, “but it is also befitting to get her majesty, the Queen a token of his majesty`s appreciation, nothing like a fantastic display of affluence to rekindle the smouldering ambers of love,” with a very sincere look on his face. I could understand where he was coming from, after two months of his girlfriend footing the bill each time they went out, the man was desperate to prove his masculinity, let alone his self bestowed royal status. Anyway, after what was supposed to be a few beers, now turned into successive days of all night binges and extravagant presents to King`s girlfriend, the money all but dried up. Perhaps it would not be fair to put the blame squarely on my friends, I too had diverted some funds into other non productive uses, but it was perfectly justified, I had been waiting for that priceless CD collection of Cliff Richard`s greatest hits for ages, good music is food for the soul anyway, I did not want that music, I needed it! Now that it has been established that I was never at fault in the madness of money squandering, it explained the decisions I made later on.
A week before the scheduled settling of the loan, King made a belated revelation, “Well guys, the cash is gone, right down to the last cent,” he had dropped the royal etiquette nonsense at this point, no doubt fearful of what was to come. “Well done for informing us, now tell us something we don’t already know, you`re the sovereign here, can`t you just issue another one of your royal decrees outlawing the loaning of cash,” I mocked. Sharp, who seemed unperturbed by the state of distress which had engulfed the entire room uttered what we all knew but could not bring ourselves to even contemplate, “come on guys, what`s the worst he can do, insult us by our mother`s birth canals, beat us up, castrate us and feed our severed organs to the dogs and then let us bleed to death from the wounds of our castrations?” After a brief moment of deep silence and meditation, suddenly the plan moved from what K.D will do to us to how we were going to come up with the money, the near thought that Sharp was on to something, made us all sick. Genuinely feeling that I could not be included with Sharp and King in the punitive measures to be taken I went, under the cover of darkness, to KD`s place and plead my case. The result was a violent shake by the scruff of my shirt and getting spat on in the face, yes, right in the face, humiliated, I returned home. On the way back I could not help thinking of just what he will do to us and judging by this initial indication, it would not be something one lives through to tell the tale.
When the universality of our plight had been so emphatically established I immediately proposed that we combined whatever meagre amounts we were receiving from home to channel them towards servicing the debt and leaving our own sustenance to the whims of well wishers, which was about the choice we had. After a lacklustre endorsement, we were left with absolutely nothing. As crucial food reserves were running dangerously low, the vulgarity of our meals moved up a notch. I can remember one occasion when, after what seemed like an eternity of eating with nondescript relish, a Good Samaritan gave us a small packet of kapenta. That night we all sat in awe, marvelling at those little fish; eyes wide awake, as if daring us to partake of them getting fried in a pitiful amount of oil, imagining how the meal was going to give our battle weary taste buds a pleasant shock. Instead of relief and pleasure of the culinary delight which we were about to indulge in, what transpired was nothing short of pandemonium. It all started with Sharp-sharp, “this is nothing short of criminal! The kapenta I have in my plate is not only smaller than yours, but most of its heads are missing”, he angrily declared. Deeply annoyed, king was the first to crack, “what difference can a few kapenta heads make, are you nuts, just eat that damned kapenta and shut up already!” What followed was rather expected, “no one tells me when to shut up, I`ll say whatever I want when I want, you hear? I want my fair share of that stupid kapenta, it`s you who got us into this mess in the first place, you... you...” unfortunately he did not finish, I was rather looking forward to what he had to say but what followed was a lethal combination of every piece of profanity and obscene gesturing there is to talk of, enough to leave many a gangster rap-artist green with envy, I was too dejected to intervene, they just stopped when they got tired, or run out of swear words, whatever the case.
When the night before we were supposed to hand over the money, having failed to come up with even a quarter of the total amount, we sat like martyrs before the day of execution, engaged in deep philosophical conversation, surprisingly so. “What do you suppose people do in Heaven,” asked Sharp with a child-like innocence, “Hopping from one cloud to another, singing Hosana to His name to the tune of a majestic harp, I guess,” I said half heartedly, “But wont we ever get tired, singing all day long,” Sharp persisted, “don’t think so, giving praise to the Creator is supposed to be the food of the soul, the only thing you could possibly worry about is over nourishment, but fatigue, never!” I explained, starting to enjoy this chat. “But is it even guaranteed that we are even going to Heaven,” interjected King who had seemed uninterested in the conversation so far, “I`m sure that after what our bodies will be put through tomorrow, the Lord himself will issue a real royal proclamation that we be given immediate access,” I responded, weary of the direction the conversation was taking I suggested we turn in for the night.
As the night wore on I found myself unable to sleep, thinking about my entire life, and how it would be if I had not wound up with King and Sharp-sharp, but my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by some weird monologues. First it was Sharp, “Goodbye women, oh beautiful women hope there is more of you in Heaven, Goodbye booze, pilsner, lager, whisky, wine I love you all, goodbye food... how lovely you were...”, then it was King`s turn, “... goodbye (the Mrs), goodbye farm, goodbye cars, goodbye...” , “This is actually not a bad idea,” I thought to myself, since people were bidding farewell to their most cherished things in their sleep I might as well do my own goodbyes. I could only think of one thing only, my dear mother, l then decided to do what l do best, a poem to the one and only:
“Mom, l just died in your arms tonight,
With fear abound, l am not afraid,
As the jagged edge of the devils dagger
Rips through my flounder person
I will do nothing but hope
As l repatriate my body to its earthly source,
I weep not, for my being goes to its maker
Though far away l feel the warmth of your love
And the peace of your concern
As l begin to remonstrate with divinity,
To return to the land of mortality
It is for you I choose to return
Through the unknown of darkness l will risk
Through the pestilence of unknown travel, l will endure
Just for you, die and resurrect I will
To be in your loving arms, dear mom, my earthly saint.
As soon as l had finished writing and having told myself that l was going to force myself, if possible to get some well earned rest, as if to emphasise the foul state of our circumstances, King let rip a toxic fart that made me seriously wonder what was better, K.D`s punishment or King`s fart, l am still convinced it would be a photo- finish to the line in terms of detriment to the body. I would have never thought that the human body was capable of producing such a horrendous stench, “He must have serious issues, coming down with dysentery perhaps,” I concluded, with my disturbed palate telling my brain to vomit immediately.
That morning we all got up early, King and Sharp had a puzzling renewed sense of bravado, agitating for violent confrontation. They had with them that cheap, highly intoxicating alcohol smuggled from Zambia which is usually sold in sachets which they drank with such gusto that l wondered if they were going to make it to K.D`s at all. Their supplier, Danny had given them an ominous ‘one for the road’ special, “How thoughtful of him,” I thought to myself, at least they won`t say they didn`t check out on a ‘high note’.“We can take him on, he`s human after all, a hook, an uppercut and a kick to the gut, that will knock the stuffing out of him”, remarked Sharp, all the while maintaining heavy eye contact as if looking for approval, “yeah, piece of cake, he can`t possibly take us all on,” King chipped in. I remained silent; none of these tough talking men was a fighter, quite the contrary, and the futility of it all only served to increase my state of indifference. We arrived, and were ushered by Gradem to K.D`s lair were our persons started trembling uncontrollably, obviously now beginning to comprehend the danger to both life and limb and with Sharp weeping bitterly K.D knew it could only be one thing, “My money now, or else!!”
What happened thereafter, is another long story of its own, but needless to say, we survived to tell the tale, though King`s reign came to a painful end and Sharp-sharp ending up more like Blunt-blunt and me, ... well ..., let`s not go there. Come to think of it now, we never returned that loan, but tell you what, I`m loving every bit of Cliff Richard.