Mrs. Scotty Hillis had given Oyekan the journal not long after his arrival in the U.S. A sweet lady. Right to this very room she brought the green journal and three baked yams in a yellow dish. “I hope you’ll be happy here,” she had said. Apple of my eye. The blond-haired girl who sat next to Oyekan in Statistical Methods once told him he was “the apple of the teacher’s eye.” Oyekan did not know the expression, but felt it made easy sense, quite unlike Mr. Scotty Hillis’s “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” or, yesterday, the remark of Oyekan’s friend Joe, at the barbershop: “Oyekan’s got the Hillises eating out of his hand.” Eating out of his hand. When Joe said this, the barber had made a smile, but still the words had not sounded nice. Oyekan reached across his open journal to the chart hanging on the wall above his desk. “Border Changes in Nigeria.” He slid a finger between the chart’s colored transparencies. The top transparency—yellow—made his finger appear varnished; the second and third, dark as the back of a turtle.
What do You think about Suicide's Girlfriend (2015)?
