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It’d been a long day of running errands, tidying the house, tending to the fields, and wrangling rhinos. To say Okoye was tired would be an understatement. But she held her head high and continued her day of draining work, wanting to end it on a happy note.
She’d found some beautiful fabric at a booth on her trip to the market and immediately she knew she had to have it. The reds blended seamlessly with the blues making deep purple and indigo hues in their wake. Usually, that color combination wouldn’t appeal to Okoye’s eye but lately, she’d been rather fond of the color blue. She ran her fingers across the folded fabric and began to visualize what could come of the material.
The stress of the day soon became irrelevant once she got into a creative rhythm. She imagined all the pieces that could go with the lay of the fabric and knew she needed to get home immediately to flush a few ideas out and into her sketchbook. She picked up four of the pre-measured pieces and added them to her basket before she went to find some thread that’d match.
She was so relaxed she didn’t even realize she was humming on her stroll.
Okoye.. former spearhead of Wakanda’s army… humming?
There was nothing she would do to change it either. Bast damn it! She was at peace, and she planned to enjoy every moment of it.
Making her way through the stall she spotted a few pieces of thin breathable material that caught her eye, and she got those as well. She figured that even though she had no plan for them at the moment, something would come in due time.
By the time she started her trek home, the sun had started to retreat. The cool air blessed her face and she breathed it in, releasing a contented sigh. Those she passed nodded their greetings, and some spoke them. There had been murmurs of the fish man that lingered around her home, no one uttered them to her, but she knew. Everyone was so happy to see her in this light they dared not ruin it.
When she finally reached home, she saw a small wrapped parcel lying in front of her door. A bluish-green fabric tied by a thick rope, giving it a tear drop shape.
She chuckled at the simple display, certain it was from Attuma. She told him before that she preferred receiving his gifts by hand so she could thank him accordingly. Obviously, her words didn’t stick in the way she intended.
The humming continued as she floated through her home and to her sewing room. She put the pieces for her current project on her workbench, and the rest in their designated bins.
Attuma always complimented her strict organizational skills. He liked rummaging through her spools of thread. Misplacing a few from their color-coordinated state just so she’d have something to do and think of him when she found the flaw.
She sat at her desk to unwrap the gift. The rope gave way easily and the pouch fell open to reveal a pile of various sewing needles, beads, charms, and trinkets. A smile crept on her face as she examined each piece. The beads seemed to be hand-drilled, each having a unique shape and trait. The needles weren’t made of metal, but possibly some kind of bone. They bent and gave with ease, but she could tell they were durable. Attuma had told her how they crafted all their materials by hand. Their process of thread-making intrigued her the most. She made him promise to show her the next time she visited him in Talokan.
The new gifts didn’t sit idle for long. She put them away with the rest of her accessories and even saved the square of material that made up the pouch. Figuring it’d be a nice pocket insert for something.
Okoye worked through the evening, cutting, measuring, and cutting some more. She knew she had a few days before Attuma would stop by again and she decided she wanted to have something for him when he did. She loved the way his cheeks practically hid his eyes from his huge smile —he never bothered to hide— when she gifted him a new garment.
The first time he found out about her hobby he rambled about how much he enjoyed helping his mother with her sewing projects as a child. Whether it be handing her materials or simply staying still so she could use him as a mannequin. The idea of baby Tuma always made Okoye’s heart swell, and even more so when she found out how endearing her hobby was to him.
She first gifted him a hip cloth for one of the events held in Wakanda. It was made from a rich border tribe blue fabric that she thought would pair well with the reds and greens of his ceremonial garb. She couldn’t explain the pride that bubbled over in her chest when Attuma emerged from the river and he had it on.
The second thing she gifted him was a satin scrunchie for his hair. She loved seeing it down flowing freely, but it was hard to get perfect measurements while his hair beckoned her like a siren. So to thwart all hair-touching and scalp massaging temptations she had him put it up whenever she needed to be close.
***
Two weeks had passed since her project ensued, and it was just enough time to decide on what she wanted to make, change her mind a few times, and then finally start sewing. It was a good thing she bought a few extra yards of fabric when she did, if nothing else the General was always 3 steps ahead; even of herself.
When Attuma showed up at her doorstep mid-afternoon she could sense something was wrong with him. She was busy tending to her fields and rhinos when Attuma came up asking her to take a look at something.
“How did you manage to do this?” Okoye asked as she ran her fingers through a long slit in Attuma’s ceremonial cloak.
He grunted trying to will away the flutters that came about when she tugged on his clothing and circled him like he was her prey. Though she was simply examining the damage.
“I got into a scuffle and it got snagged on something,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t betray his guise and reveal his truth.
“Mm…” she frowned studying the material more. “For a snag, this cut is very clean, no loose strings or anything.” she mused and stepped back from the warrior.
“Will you be able to repair it?” He asked, ignoring her assessment.
“Do not insult me, General, did you come all the way here just for this little rip?” she asked as she held out her hand for the damaged garment.
He parted his lips to reply but thought better of it, his initial thought would’ve gotten him ushered out of her home quicker than intended. “I um.. I was wondering if you… cooked?”
“You bring me torn clothing and an empty belly? And they say chivalry is dead!” She clicked her tongue and tossed his cloak across a chair. “I hope you like spicy food” she continued muttering to herself as she shuffled around in her kitchen.
Attuma grinned to himself and dragged his feet sheepishly as he made his way to the sturdy Jabari wooden table in the center of the dining area. It was a table that could probably seat four to six people but it only had 3 chairs. He never bothered to ask why and she never volunteered the information. Attuma had been in her home —uninvited mostly, though she never rejected his presence— many times and he did the same feet dragging, glancing at objects, and humming routine every time.
“Ukrebe, come” Okoye called absently from the kitchen.
He made his way into her kitchen, this time carrying a picture he’d seen several times before, but never thought to inquire about it.
“Mm?” He sat the picture down and looked at her expectedly.
“I thought we agreed that grunts would get you nowhere with me? Hm? Use your words indoda enenkani“ she accented her playful scolding with that sound she made whenever he did something she didn’t like.
“Who is this? I’ve never seen her around”
“Ah, that's Sizani.. she's like my sister” she smiled as she sat their bowls of food on the table.
He considered her words as he examined the picture more. Okoye was seated in the other woman’s lap watching intently as Sizani pierced the material with a small needle. Even at a young age, Okoye held focus like no other.
“She taught you?” He finally replied moments later.
“To sew? Yes. So when you bring me intentionally ripped garments you have her to thank as well” she said, going back into the kitchen to grab their beverages.
She didn’t even have to look at his face to know his jaw was on the ground. He could do nothing more than laugh at the fact that he’d been found out. It was a deep boisterous laugh that caused him to fall over the chair and clap his hand, completely tickled.
“Nothing gets by you jats'uts lool” he said once his laughter subsided.
“So you know this and you still try and trick me? Hm?” She shook her head with a playful disapproving expression “What would your people think if they knew the tricks their general played?” She placed his drink in front of him and finally sat down.
“Well since you know my secret... I have six more at home with the same tear in different areas”
“Attuma! You are just as muscle-brained as M’Baku! The difference is your adornments are fish-like like and his are … fuzzy” She shook her head, utterly amused.
Attuma simply shrugged, not even a tad bit sorry for his actions. He’d do it 15 times over if it earned him another bright smile and high-pitched gasp.
They ate and chatted like old friends who’d known each other for years. Most of the banter came from Attuma as he rambled on about the goings on of his home. He liked telling Okoye the most outrageous highlights of things that happened in his day-to-day life. The gasps and the curious glimmer in her eyes made him an endless pit of ramblings. She’d chime in whenever something he said related to something she’d done in her time as General; but, Attuma still held the trophy for the most chatty.
Once they finished eating he took their plates and washed them, much to Okoye’s chagrin. While he finished up in the kitchen she ran off to her sewing room, grabbing her latest achievement. She had it wrapped in a beautiful purple tissue paper and made sure to dust it with her favorite fragrance oil.
When she returned Attuma was fiddling with the wall panel that controlled most of the things in her home.
“Tiburón… have you ever heard of the saying look but don’t touch?” She spoke from just behind him, causing him to jump ever so slightly. She took pride in her stealth capabilities, even more so when she found out she could sneak up on him if he was distracted enough.
“It is all I can think of when I’m around you” he hummed as he spun on his heels to face her.
Okoye smirked and shook her head “You are a wise man, a very wise man,” she held up his gift and willed away the errant butterflies that’d begun flapping around in her belly before he even reacted “For you.”
Attuma didn’t have a bashful bone in his body, so he never refused or shied away from any of her gifts. He told her how intriguing he found the thin tissue wrapping paper to be so she always made an effort to to present whatever was to be given in the assorted paper. He’d take his time and peel it open, obviously excited for whatever contents hid beneath. And each time she absentmindedly rocked from her heels to tiptoes, impatiently waiting for him to open his gifts. He was so gentle with the delicate paper that she considered doing the honors herself so they could get on with it.
He held the piece in the air, examining her craft with admiring eyes. The sparkles of the beads she added bounced off his face.
“Well? What do you think?” She was nearly bouncing on her toes in anticipation. The slowness of his reaction always drove her mad.
He said nothing as he swooped her up in his arms, causing her to shriek from the sudden embrace.
“I take it you like it then?!” She managed through her giggles.
He kissed her cheek after placing her back on the ground and looked at her with eyes bursting with adoration and something… more.
“I cannot wait to wear it Okoye, it is perfect” he emphasized with another quick kiss on her cheek.
That was new… she liked it. A lot.
“Did you see the rest?” She nodded her head towards the deserted gift paper that sat atop her coffee table.
He picked it up and unraveled the second layer of patterned paper much quicker this time. When he held up the garment (an off the shoulder mid-thigh length romper) he immediately noticed how much smaller in size it was, clearly it wasn’t for him. It matched the shoulder sash she made for him so it was obviously meant to be worn together.
He tilted his head out from behind the piece to look at Okoye, she was currently failing to hide a goofy grin.
“And this?” He broke once he realized she wouldn’t budge.
“It is for our date.”
“You’re saying?!”
“I'm saying yes.”
And once again she was swept off her feet and thrown into a fit of laughter.
Fin.