To Revenge or Not To Revenge? – A Short Story

Folake was committed to doing something crazy and I am supposed to dissuade her. It was not really unlike her to come up with very ridiculous ideas that were never carried out.  But this time around I could tell she was dead serious with the look in her eyes, and that scared me because this is the worst idea of hers till date. I began to say, Folake you can’t do this, but realized that was a fallacy of moral reasoning, telling a person they can’t do something for the same reason they want to do it. So I tried another tactic, “Folake do you still love him?” Folake did not blink, she remained as calm as she had been since she arrived from Maryland that morning. That was the second sign that something was not right. Folake was always as bubbly as a bee, her infectious personality always lights up a room, which was why everyone loved having her around, including Sidi who had barked happily at the gate when Folake arrived. But Folake who would usually bend to pat the dog had only thrown him some treat from her bag, that was the first sign that something was wrong.

When she saw me on the porch, she said hello and that was it. But the Folake I know is a huger, she would run up the 3 steps that led to the porch and fling her arms around me. She would attempt to twirl me around even though I was slightly bigger than she was. But my best friend and name sake only said hello. I helped her carry her luggage to the guest room and we both made our way to the living room. It has been prepared for her since she called me the previous morning that she was coming to New York.  I was delighted but the short notice surprised me. But again, it was not unlike Folake to do things on a whim. She had made the decision to move to Maryland on a whim, even the decision to date Dolapo had been on a whim,  but there was no denying the love at first sight.

Since I was on vacation from my appendectomy and the house was beginning to seem boring, I welcomed the company. As we sat in the living room, Folake wasted no time in telling me what her plan was and from start to finish the expression on her face never changed. I wondered if this had been the look on her face since she heard the news. Had she cried?  Had she thrown things? When exactly did she come up with this idea?  Her refusal to show any emotion prevented me from showing any, other than the initial shock when she told me Dolapo was getting married that weekend. She said it in the same manner she would say I ate rice for dinner last night. I couldn’t handle it, so I went to the fridge to grab a can of beer, that was the only alcohol I had in the house. I grabbed one for her too, but it stood on the table untouched.

If I were Folake, I would have most definitely ran mad by now, and I did, two years ago when my boyfriend jilted me for a white woman. So I understood that her calm visage was to assure me that she was still in her right mind and meant exactly what she was saying. I remembered the words of my mother that men have no heaven, they were all going to hell for sure. Dolapo was Folake’s fiancé up until 2 days ago when she found out he was getting married to another woman. They have been together for 5 years, he had proposed to her 3 months ago and now he was marrying another woman and had not even had the courtesy to break up with Folake first. She had completely been blindsided.

“He was dating the two of us, I don’t know when it started with her but he was dating the two of us and at some point he decided she was better than me and he only proposed to keep me from suspecting anything while he planned his wedding with her.  He didn’t even have the balls to break up with me properly. The expensive diamond ring was a good bye gift.” 
“But babe, how could you not tell he was cheating?”
“Women are supposed to know these things right?”
“That’s what they say”
“Unless the guy is a real sneaky bastard” 
“Or unless the girl was so blinded by love. Is she Nigerian?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not.” This was probably not a good time for constructive criticism, but the manner of our friendship allowed for that, besides Folake hated pity party.
“But was I the only one blindsided?”
“No, unfortunately he blindsided all of us and that is why I am so upset.”
“So will you help me?”
That was when I asked her “do you still love him?” and after looking me straight in the eye and not blinking, she answered no. That was all I needed to hear. I didn’t want her to chicken out on me at any point. The hatred she feels will propel her and I was going to help me, after all, I was only the best events planner in the city of New York.  All I had to do was make a few calls. But time was what we needed and we don’t have plenty. So we need to move fast, since the wedding was on Saturday and it was already Thursday’s noon.  First, I would need to find out who was planning the wedding because whoever he or she is, I am about to mess up their masterpiece. I only hope it was not one of those hopeless romantics, that would only ruin things. I looked at Folake’s figure, getting her a perfect gown should not be that difficult. I grabbed my phone and texted my favorite makeup artist. 
“Saturday 7am, are you booked?” 
The reply came instantly, “Yes, but I can send someone.”
I smiled, “perfect come to my place.”
Next, I called a designer with a passion for drama, Oguntade has a theater background, so he made the best dramatic ball gowns in New York city. He answered on the first ring, “Hi Darling”
“I need a gown”
“I’m good, thank you for asking, how are you?”
I laughed at the comeback. But it was his turn to be serious, “What’s up?” 
“I need a gown.”
“You already said that.”
“No I mean, I need a gown, it’s an emergency.”
“Oh that kind of gown”
“Yes”
“Am I allowed to ask?”
“Yes I’ll give you all the details”
“What’s the time frame?  Please don’t say Saturday”  
“Saturday”
“I hate you”
“I know”
“Size?”
“Size 2”
“hmm you may just be in luck”
“It’s all thanks to my mother, she never missed a prayer meeting. We’ll see you at 6?”
“Sounds like a plan”
“Love ya.”
“Hate ya.” I laughed and hung up the phone, Folake had not moved from her sitting position on the three sitter. She was looking at me, but her expression was beginning to gain an animation.

“Make up check, gown almost check, we need a white horse and a chariot. Afterall, our bride must arrive in style.” That was when Folake smiled. She would make a very beautiful bride, I thought with a painful pang. But we have no time for sentiments, we have a wedding to crash. 

We arrived at Oguntade’s place at exactly 6pm.  It was just our luck that he already had a wedding gown he was planning to use for an editorial. It fitted Folake like it was made for her. But Oguntade would only release it on the condition that she photographs in it for the editorial. That was when we told him what we were actually planning, he thought it was crazy but he loved it. I doubted if Folake wanted her story to be publicized, but I was wrong, she thought it was a great idea. If you’re going to be black, you might as well be black all the way, right? The gown came with a pair of shoes and accessories that the model was going to use anyways, so we decided to go with it.  Oguntade happened to have a friend who has a friend who provides chariots for brides on their special day. We got connected and that was settled as well. The friend told us summer was an especially busy time of the year and he never took last minute bookings, but he was willing to make an exception. That is why it was good to have a friend who has friends who knows someone. For Nigerians, everything is about connection. Next, I put a call through to Gbemisola, the CNN of all Nigerian special occasions in New York city. She would know where the wedding was taking place and who was planning it.

By the time I ended my conversation with Gbemisola, I knew all I needed to. I hesitated in telling Folake, wondering if that might change her mind. But I blurted it out anyway, “Folake she’s pregnant!” Folake’s fork froze midway to her mouth. We were at Applebee’s for dinner. It all made sense now, the question that must have been tormenting her, Why the other woman over me? What does she have that I don’t? I saw it made a difference as she dropped her fork on the plate deflated. “But I was first. And let’s say she’s innocent in all this and didn’t know of my existence, then she deserves to know she’s about to marry a jerk. But if she did know then what do I have to feel sorry for? I said nothing since the logic made sense. “How far gone is she?” Folake asked.
“3 months, they actually want to rush the wedding before she starts showing.”
The ensuing silence that followed contrasted the turmoil that was going on in Folake’s mind. Both of our food laid there abandoned. Each of us lost in her own thought. 
“I have to do this.” Folake finally said, “I can’t let 5 years of my life go like that without a farewell.” 
“Then let’s do this then,” I said.

We attempted to resume our food but the once appetizing shrimp now tasted like plastic, so we abandoned it and opted for a bachelorette party instead. I called a few friends who were always down for a drink at any time and we met up at a  bar close to my house in Brooklyn. At this point, Folake was past caring, so we told the ladies what we were planning. Apparently, crashing your fiancé’s wedding in a wedding gown was the best revenge idea they’ve all heard. One of them knew the bride, she is a nice person, but they all offered to help because a nice woman deserves to be rescued from a jerk. Besides, who said a woman has to marry a guy because he impregnated her? That’s such an old school idea, wasn’t it? But my boyfriend had married the white woman for that same reason and now Dolapo was doing the same thing.

Time for unleashing pent up emotions finally came on Friday night. We have worked tirelessly since the previous day to make sure everything goes without a glitch, but the bride finally developed cold feet on the night before the D-day. I knew it was coming because Folake hadn’t cried, unlike me she hadn’t screamed, she had only came up with an idea for revenge.  And revenge was not exactly an outlet for letting go of unhealthy emotions if Wuthering Heights has taught us anything. We were both sitting on the bed in the guest room when she started what I refer to as her 5 minute insanity rant.

“I’m trying so hard to cry but the tears will not come Folake! I feel like my heart has been replaced by a black hole. I want to scream but I feel so tired! There’s so much anger in me I can barely contain it! Folake I want to take a gun and shoot him! But I don’t want him to die because I want him to suffer for a really long time! But there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe this. A part of me that thinks there’s a rational explanation for this.  Dolapo loves me Folake, he loves me! There’s no way he was cheating on me.  There’s no way he’s getting married to another woman. Even if he made a mistake he would talk it out with me. 5 years is a long time Folake!  Men are not that evil, even if they were, Dolapo could not be that evil! Folake could he?! I’m going mad thinking about it! Please say something! Please help me! Please help me! I feel like I’m dying! I don’t understand this at all!”

Then the tears began, the sob shook her whole body like a terrible earthquake, Folake was a big weeper, she doesn’t know who to cry dainty tears, I’d be afraid of waking up my neighbors if the door wasn’t sound proof.  I didn’t know what to do, so I left her alone.  She cried and cried and cried, then slowly the sobs began to diminish into small hiccups. That was when I grabbed her tissues from the night stand.  She wiped her face and nose. I asked her again.  “Do you still love him?” This time the answer was honest. 
“Yes.”
“Then must we do this?”
“No.” I could tell how much pain and strength it took to say that word, I smiled and she smiled and we hugged.

 Showing up at Dolapo’s wedding in a bridal gown when the pastor asked if anyone is against the marriage would have been the easy way out even with all the work put into it.  Sitting back and letting karma take its course although seems like a weak alternative was in fact a very powerful act. It takes a lot of strength to let go instead of taking revenge. The saying that if you love someone you let them go came to mind, but I wasn’t sure how applicable it was. I hated those kinds of sayings anyways. We decided to send a big wedding gift instead in Folake’s name, we imagined the expression on Dolapo’s face when he sees her name on the gift. That was revenge enough, wasn’t it? Should we really do what we plan on doing? Should we crash the wedding? Should we embarrass him in front of all those people? These were the thought that ran through my head as I hugged my best friend. I wondered what was going through her own mind and looked at her face only to realize she was fast asleep. I gently rose and tucked her in so as not to wake her up. I know she hasn’t slept for days, so I was happy to see that peaceful expression her face as I left her in the room.

I made my way to my room and attempted to sleep but failed, tomorrow was going to be a long day with no plan for revenge to fill it. How will Folake sit still knowing her Fiancé was saying I do to another woman just about 30 minutes away from where she was? I didn’t know how, but I would be there to comfort her. It was going to take a lot of time but she was going to get over him, of course there will be a lot of moments in between she would regret not carrying out her revenge, but eventually she will reassure herself that she made the right decision, although that may be no comfort at all on days like Valentine, she may curse him all day in between eating ice cream all by herself and swear vehemently that she would never have anything to do with a man again, but again that will end and she will move on with her life. Everyone does, eventually. I hugged my pillow tight and tried again to catch that sleep that was eluding me. Folake will be fine, I reassured myself, she will be just fine.

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