What Came Before Midnight

By Felix Oti

What Came before Midnight is a story many single parents by
choice or circumstance can relate to. It chronicles a typical
day in the life and household of Elizabeth, a mother of three
grade-schoolers whose boyfriend is away in Afghanistan, from
waking sound of the alarm in the early hours of the morning
to the late dusk of midnight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483690629

Felix Oti

The writer, Felix Oti, is an Associate Contract Pricing Analyst with Staples, North American Division. A graduate of Economics from the University of Texas in Arlington, he is currently enrolled in an MBA program with Cameron University, Lawton, OK Mr. Oti writes as a hobby, and has been doing so for over 30 years. He maintains a blog page on Google blog, viscountmytencents. blogspot.com, and contributes to the blog page of Vanguard Newspapers, Nigeria and many other blogs globally. His opinions and analyses on issues of public interest have been published in many Nigerian national dailies, magazines, and social media. He currently lives in Arlington, Texas.

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Copyright © 2013 by Felix Oti.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 08/30/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

140445

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Appreciation

To my family—immediate and extended, friends and colleagues who put up with my self-doubts, complains of writers’ block and lack of time, my excuses and hesitations; yet, encouraged me in many ways to break this curse of lethargy and put out my first novel—albeit, a short story, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Felix Oti

Arlington, Texas

August 20, 2013

Chapter One

Wake up, America! It’s a beautiful day out there; the sun is shining, the wind is blowing, the birds are chirping, get up and head out to the open!

"Wake up, America . . . ."

Shit! Shit! Oh… . Holy God, just shut the fuck up, fool!!

Elizabeth rolled over the mound of pillows and rumpled bed covers, stretched her left arm towards the alarm clock and smacked it off the side table—along with the lamp and her cell phone. It is easier that way, instead of dragging herself further up the bed. The problem is that this new method of shutting the alarm clock does not work most of the time, and she still ends up picking up and re-arranging all the stuff the falling table lamp dragged down on its way to the floor. One way or the other, the objective of turning off the now annoying voice of an over-excited Jay Leno encouraging worn and weary Americans to get up and face another day of dread and frustration. But, wake up, she must; things to do, and on schedule too. A few more minutes of shut-eye is all she needs to allow the rest of her body to wake up.

Mom! Mom! It’s six in the morning and you’ve not made breakfast!

Holy shit She jumped off the bed, covers and pillows flying in every direction; one barely missing the ten-year old girl standing in the doorway. She rushed to the bathroom, splashed a handful of water on her face and ran into the kitchen, the little girl in tow.

You do this every morning, she whined and we always go to school late

Not now, Amy! I am not in the mood. You can start getting yourself ready for school, while I fix breakfast and lunch sacks. She glanced in the refrigerator for eggs, bacon, bread, and chocolate milk.

I have been ready, Amy said.

No, you are not, she replied without a glance at her.

I am, she insisted.

Just quit arguing and do as you are told, she yelled.

Amy stormed out to her room, not quite sure what else to do. She had been up since the alarm in her mother’s room went off. She always wakes up to it, because she shares a common wall with her mother’s room. Why her two siblings do not hear the loud noise, even Gordon, the eighteen-month old who shares the room with their mother, has always amazed her. Robert, her six-year old brother, never wakes up to anything; he maintains his own unique schedule: sleeping, waking, and eating at his own time. Mostly, he is ignored by everyone else, and he is eager to oblige everyone in return.

Amy went to the bathroom and looked herself over in the bathroom window. She examined her hair which seemed in order, with every strand in their right places—whatever those places might be; she had brushed her teeth that morning, and her school clothes looked clean and straight—even though this is her second time of wearing it. She had worn it to church three days before, on a Sunday, for her friend Kayla’s funny-looking baby brother’s christening. The little thing had cried all morning at the church, and the mom kept sticking breasts in his mouth to shut him up, Very irritating! Next, she examined her feet. The stockings match—they never last long; two more weeks they will begin to slack at the ankles, and mom will go to the Family Dollar store at the intersection of Matlock and Green Oaks to get some more. The sneakers look a little worn at the edges, but perfect for another year.

How come they never make these things last longer? she wondered. That way, mummy could save some more money for other things we need… like a new dress for school. Unfortunately, it is not that the stocking makers don’t make quality ones, it’s just that her mother only purchase’s from where she could afford the prices.

She noticed specks of dried drool at the corners of her mouth, and hurriedly wiped them off with the hand towel by the sink, robbed Suave Moisturizing lotion on her face and wondered how mom manages to notice that she is not quite ready for school every morning. She has been working for weeks at getting it right the first time, and there is always something left undone every