THE MUSIC WAS SO LOUD
that a man at one of the regular tables outside the club thought it was the most annoying sound he’d ever heard. He was only there for the chicken wings, and for that he’d have to wait for about 15 minutes.
15 minutes, the waiter said. In reality, that 15 minutes was always going to be 25 at best. He weighed the pros and cons, and ultimately he slammed his fist on the table and stormed out. What kinds of maniacs would enjoy this sort of annoying, infuriating, corybantic music, anyway? Only in Africa, the man said to himself. Only in Africa.
Two of the maniacs that would enjoy this kind of music were Wila and Rita. These two women were inside the club, right in the thick of it, drinking and dancing like they were the only people left in the world.
Now while Wila did most of the drinking and dancing, Rita was not too far behind. The girls had not seen each other for a while, and had decided to make the most of the night.
As it tended to do, the night got out of hand.
— You look so beautiful tonight by the way.
Wila shouted to Rita as they danced their hearts out in the middle of the club.
All Rita could see was Wila’s lips moving. That was alright, anyway. Effective communication was not the affair of the day.
Eventually when it was time to call it a night, the girls walked hand-in-hand to the parking lot. This was where Wila’s car was parked. She drove a pink SUV which Rita absolutely adored.
— I was saying on the dance floor that you look so beautiful tonight by the way.
Wila said, holding Rita close to her as they approached the car.
— Oh my God you too!
The two girls stopped synchronously in their tracks. They gave each other a tight hug.
— This was such a wonderful night tonight.
— So wonderful.
— Oh thank you.
— No, thank you!
— You’re going to make me emotional tonight.
— No, no, let’s get out of here before I start crying.
The girls got into the car and each put their seatbelt on.
— Oh shit.
Wila said behind the steering wheels.
— What?
All of a sudden she let out huge bursts of laughter. Rita joined her without knowing what was funny.
— Any problems?
She said, trying but failing to stop herself from laughing.
— Just one.
Wila said.
— What?
— I’m absolutely too blasted to drive.
— Too blasted?
— Yes.
They could barely get words out in between the laughter spurts. The more they both tried to stop laughing and speak clearly, the worse the laughter became.
— Did you -?
Rita made a hand gesture to indicate the smoking of a substance.
— Yes!
Wila said, still laughing like a maniac.
— When?
— Someone gave it to me when you went to the bathroom.
The girl’s laughter had reached a point where they both slapped their thighs in passion. Both were wearing very short gowns – red for Rita and blue for Wila. Not that it mattered, except that the thighs were exposed and it made for very strong pains as they hit themselves in delirious laughter.
— Oh okay, it’s okay.
Rita said, finally calming herself. — It’s okay, I’ll drive.
— Oh that’s great. That’s great.
Wila said. — That’ll work. You always come up with the best solutions. That’s why I love you. I love you so much. You know that?
— I know, silly. I love you too.
The girls hugged in the car again without taking the seat belt off and cried for a second. Then they took the seatbelt off, and got out of the car to switch seats.
— Wait,
Wila said as they stepped outside the car. It was dark outside but the moon was full that night and provided more than enough illumination.
— But you’re drunk as well.
Wila said.
— No. No, I’m not that drunk.
Rita said, and the girls bursted out in laughter again.
— You’re drunk,
Rita said, laughing hysterically.
— No, no for real I’m not. Look at me. Hey, look at me.
Rita began to walk in a straight line to prove to her friend that she was not drunk. She attempted a somersault to drive the point home, but landed flat on her buttocks.
They both laughed. And they both thought it was a clean performance, all things considered.
The girls got back into the car, with Rita now behind the wheels. Wila’s car was parked on the far end of the parking lot, which was in a very open field across the mall wherein the club stood.
There were not many onlookers who saw what happened, but the few that did wondered how Rita was still able to get her legs to work after the fall from the somersault.
— Oh shit.
She said, wearing her seat belts behind the wheels.
— What?
Predictably, she began to laugh, with cadence, building it up slowly.
— What? Any problems?
Wila said, joining in.
— Fuck.
— What?
— The problem?
— Yes?
— I can’t drive.
— What?
— Yes.
— No, you stop being dramatic right now.
— It’s true.
— You can’t drive at all?
— No. I never learned.
A few more minutes of uncontrolled laughter ensued.
— Really?
— Yes.
— How old are you, Rita?
Rita laughed like a maniac.
— I’m – I’m –
She couldn’t stop laughing.
— How hard is it anyway? I never learned. But I’ve always wondered, is it hard?
— Driving?
— Yes.
— It’s not hard.
— Doesn’t look hard.
— That’s what she said.
That sent them into wild guffaws again.
— No, no, no, I mean it can’t be hard. Right?
— No.
— 14-year olds do it.
— 14-year olds drive?
— All the time.
— No.
— Yes.
— In Europe they do it.
— No way.
— It’s true.
— That’s incredible.
Rita and Wila kept quiet for a while to reflect on the 14 year olds driving.
— Europe.
Wila said.
Raya shook her head in disbelief.
— Europe. Such a funny word, Europe.
— U rope.
— You rope.
— Oh they do anything in Europe.
— I swear to God!
— It’s true! They do anything in Europe! It’s true!
— You know,
Wila said, holding both of her friend’s hands as if to tell her the biggest secrets from the remotest crevices of her mind.
— In Europe, women can actually marry each other.
The girls looked each other deeply in the eye, taking a break from laughing for a second before resuming their laughter with renewed fury.
— Honest.
Wila said, laughing. — Honestly they can.
— I know they can!
— You rope. Ah!
— Well it’s actually not hard. It’s not hard at all. You know?
— Yeah?
— Yeah.
— I thought as much.
— You know what,
Rita said. — We should go to Europe some time.
— We?
— Yes?
— Well, we have to find a way to drive this car and get home first.
— Oh shit that’s true.
Raya shook her head in disbelief as tears began to run down her face from laughing too hard.
— You know, what, come down. I’ll teach you.
— What?
— It’s alright, I’ll teach you, so you can drive us home. I’ll teach you for real. Right here. Come down.
— For real?
— For real. I’m serious.
The girls came down from the car and switched seats again.
— You look so beautiful today by the way.
— Oh my God you too!
— There’s a bigger parking lot in the field over there.
Wila said. — I’m just going to drive there. It’s not too far. I’m going to drive there and teach you how to drive so you can drive us home.
Wila drove the car to the large parking lot across the street. There were only very few cars parked here.
— So this is what you do.
Wila said, teaching her friend everything there is to know about driving a car – right there in the parking lot at night.
— Too easy.
Rita said once the lesson was over. — This is too easy. I always knew it was going to be easy.
— Fuck the 14-year olds.
Wila said.
Rita was in the middle of finishing a soda bottle, which she expeditiously spat out in response to her friend’s words.
— Fuck the 14-year olds?
— Hell, yeah.
— No,
She said, laughing uncontrollably as she cleaned the spilled soda off her thighs.
— No?
Wila said, laughing hysterically as well.
— No, you can’t say that, you silly goose.
— Take that, You Rope!
Wila said.
— Yes, take that, You Rope!
— They really do anything in Europe huh?
— They do. They really do.
— Alright. Let’s go home.
The girls came down from the car and switched sweats. Rita, now in the driver’s seat and ready, attempted to turn on the ignition.
— Oh wait,
She said.
— What is it this time?
— Don’t I need a driver’s license? Or a learner’s permit?
— Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
— Yeah.
— You do!
— Yeah.
— Fuck me.
— Can’t drive around without a learner’s permit.
— Fuck.
— After so much work learning.
— After so much work.
The girl sat in the car dumbfounded for ten whole minutes.
— We’ll just walk. Let’s just walk.
— It’s awfully late, isn’t it?
— It’s okay.
— Hold my hands.
— It’s so late.
— We’re safe. You’re safe with me.
The girls came down from the car and began to walk down the road. They walked together hand-in-hand with Rita’s head on Wila’s shoulders.
It was cold and they did not have jackets.
After it seemed as though they had walked for eternity, they met a man on the road who, judging by Wila’s reaction, was either an archangel or a superhero.
— Finally! We’ve been walking for hours.
The man approached with concern all over his face. He was a short man with a little bit of a limp. His face was rough as faces get after significant stress, but it also seemed as though this was his natural state. He took off his jacket and placed it over Rita’s shoulders.
— What are you talking about walking for hours?
The man said. — I just saw you get down from your car that’s parked right there.
— Oh,
Wila said, realizing they had barely taken ten steps.
— Thank you kindly for saving us, sir.
Rita said, smiling at the man. — But who are you? Are you a superhero?
— You silly goose.
Wila said, laughing like a maniac. — That’s your husband.
— Oh.
Rita said, laughing like an even more deranged maniac.
— That’s your husband, Manu!
Manu shook his head in disgust as he led the girls back to the car.
— You silly goose.
Wila said.
— What have you done?
Manu said, trying to remain calm but shaking his head furiously in utter contempt and disbelief.
— Oh it’s alright.
Wila said. — It’s alright we just had a little to drink that’s all.
— And smoke!
Rita said, laughing gently.
— That’s so irresponsible of you, Rita.
Manu said. — I’ve been looking for you all night! What did I tell you about hanging out with her?
— Can you drive, Manu?
Wila said.
— Can I drive? Of course I can drive.
— Great. Then tonight I will appoint you the designated driver. And savior.
— My savior.
Rita said.
— Our savior.
Manu continued to shake his head in disbelief as he attempted to guide his wife into the front seat. Wila decided she’d stay in the back.
— Can I stay back with Wila, please, darling? I’m awfully tired.
At the back of the car, Rita placed her head gently on Wila’s shoulder as Manu drove on in what was perhaps the greatest control of apoplectic rage a man could muster.
— Here’s a joke for you, Manu.
Wila said at the back of the car. — Would you like to hear it?
Manu did not answer.
— A writer and a student goes into a bar.
Wila said. — About whom is he talking? someone says in the bar. The student says, No, that’s not proper. It is, about whom is he talking? Who? the bartender says. I don’t know. I don’t know the rules, the students says. Hey you, the bartender says to the writer, hey you answer it. How the hell should I know? the writer says. Well, you’re a writer, you should know the rules. Yes exactly, the writer says, I’m a writer, not a ruler.
Rita, who had been asleep on Wila’s shoulders, jerked up in laughter. She laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks again.
— So irresponsible,
Manu muttered to no one in particular. — so irresponsible.
— Oh relax, Manu.
Wila said. — It’s just a funny joke.
In a second, Rita went back to sleep, her head still on Wila’s shoulders.
— I bet Europeans would laugh at that.
Wila said.
She, too, drifted off to join her friend in wistful slumber.
