One Stage, Two Bands
“One stage, two bands. The first VIP Rhumba Affair.” The guitars slid in over the drums, and Master Voice's voice ran through the room like warm honey. As Master Voice smoothly went, I knew it would be a ball on Saturday.
“Play it, play that song.” She gently poked my ribs with her elbow.
“How does it go?” I asked. In the pitch-dark of dawn, we’d been sitting in silence, listening to each other breathe softly.
“Would you like me to sing it to you?”
“I would love that,” I chuckled.
“Won’t you now?” She propped up on her elbow and stared into my eyes, hers a pool of darkness, yet with a shy sparkle in the moonlight bathing her through the sheer, slender shoulders and…
“Mh!”
‘Mapenzi eeh, mapenzi ehh…….
Mungu aliumba mapenzi tofauti,
Wengine wanalia, wengine wanacheka
Ooh, mapenzi, eeh….
Enda zako ex, enda zako……’
“My ex?” I asked, breathing in softly.
“Is that the name?”
“Yes, by Zeget Delongeur,” I replied gently.
“Play it for me,” she purred.
“Now?”
“If you’d be so kind,” she replied.
“Well, you surely do know what you want, my lady. My phone, please.”
She leaned over and grabbed it from the bedside table.
As the drumroll dropped, I leaned in and whispered, "I can do you one better. Let's go to the show on Saturday at Emara Ole-Sereni."
“Oow…” She turned her face up to mine, and I felt her smile
“One stage, two bands. The first VIP Rhumba Affair.”
She didn't answer right away. The match scraped, and for a heartbeat her face flared gold, then dark again. The sweet, earthy smoke curled up toward the ceiling, and she pulled in slowly, held it, and let it go in a long, lazy cloud. She passed the cigarette to me and settled against my chest, her hair tickling my chin.
The guitars slid in over the drums, and Master Voice's voice ran through the room like warm honey.
As Master Voice smoothly went, I knew it would be a ball on Saturday.
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