Literary Media & Communications Faculty Member’s Short Story Published in Washington City Paper
Mr. Tuck – By Koye Oyedeji
I was still shaking when I came down for dinner that evening. My uncle from Rochester was there. We called him that because that’s where he first landed when he came from Nigeria after winning the visa lottery. Now he was in Bowie, with his wife and young family, and was always around our house on the weekend for fellowship prayers and to eat and drink Star beer with my dad, as though his wife’s helpings were not enough.
That evening he was at the dining table lapping up egusi soup with a ball of ground rice in his hand. He smacked his lips on his fingers and my dad complained about me not having the manners to “properly greet” my uncle. I quietly objected to the emphasis on “uncle”: He was only my uncle insofar as every Yoruba man who walked through those doors was my uncle. I said hello, prostrated in the usual custom, and my uncle from Rochester grunted a response………. (continued)