As they went in, a tall, slim woman wearing a long black dress and with a black turban wound around her head glided over.
‘Rocky! We haven’t seen you for a while.’ Her voice was warm and husky; she kissed him lightly on both cheeks and then turned to Faye with a wide smile.
‘Welcome! I’m Marcia – the manager of the Jazz Hut.’ Her accent was unmistakably American and Faye returned the smile and introduced herself.
Marcia ushered them over to a small table in an alcove where they had a good view of the band playing on the small stage. After making sure they were comfortably seated, she gestured to one of the waiters to come and serve them before wishing them a pleasant evening and gliding off to greet some new arrivals.
When the waiter arrived, Faye ordered a glass of white wine while Rocky opted for a beer. She looked around the club admiring the 1930s Harlem jazz joint décor. Framed black and white prints of black jazz musicians and singers adorned the walls. The bar extended across an entire wall of the club and was manned by three waiters. A few patrons perched on leather and chrome bar stools and sipped on their drinks while they listened to the band play.
The waiter had just served their drinks when a tall lanky man in his thirties with an untidy goatee beard came up to their table. He stared at Faye in open admiration and patted Rocky’s shoulder in greeting.
‘Long time, no see, my man!’
Rocky leaned back in his chair and looked up at him, a resigned smile on his face. ‘Hello Nii, how are you?’
If the man noticed the lack of warmth in Rocky’s greeting, it didn’t appear to bother him. He looked around, seized a chair from an adjoining table and sat down next to Faye before anyone could speak.
‘So who is this beautiful woman?’ he asked with a wolfish smile as he set his drink down on their table. Rocky frowned for a moment before introducing her. ‘Faye, this is Nii. He’s married to my cousin, Serwah, for her sins.’
She smiled and shook Nii’s hand, tugging her own away when he appeared unwilling to release it.
‘Hey, Rocky, you always seem to find the pretty ones,’ Nii remarked, stroking his goatee. ‘What happened to that model I used to see you around with?’
‘How are Serwah and the boys?’ Rocky countered, taking a long swallow of his beer. ‘I haven’t seen them for a while.’
‘They’re all fine,’ Nii said airily with an indifferent shrug. Turning to Faye again, he grinned broadly, baring strong white teeth.
‘So where are you from, pretty lady?’ he asked. Rocky sighed with a mixture of impatience and irritation and was about to speak when a young girl marched up to their table, a sulky expression marring her pretty features.
‘Nii, you just walked off and left me by myself!’ She glared angrily at him and Faye’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter. Rocky, on the other hand, looked thunderous.
Nii sighed. He stood up and put a placatory arm around the young girl’s slim shoulders. He took one look at Rocky’s face and prudently made no attempt at introductions. Instead, he contented himself with a weak smile at Faye and a casual farewell before steering the girl away.
Rocky exhaled loudly, shaking his head more in sorrow than anger as he watched Nii walking off, his head close to the girl’s ear and talking swiftly as he tried to pacify her.
‘The longer you stay in this town, the more you’ll come across characters like him.’ Rocky’s eyes were still on Nii. ‘He has a beautiful wife and two sons and yet he spends most of his time hanging around nightclubs or the university campus preying on young impressionable girls.’
‘She doesn’t look too impressionable to me,’ Faye laughed, looking pointedly over to where the girl was clearly haranguing a sheepish Nii.
Rocky laughed reluctantly. ‘Serves him right,’ he said. Turning back to Faye, he leaned forward and took her hand.
‘Forget about him. Let’s talk about you,’ he said. She gazed back at him happily, feeling as though she had just stepped into a warm perfumed bath after coming in from the cold.
True to his word, Rocky did nothing but listen to her, prompting her with questions from time to time, as though determined to learn everything there was to know about her. They talked late into the evening, oblivious to the comings and goings of club members, the occasional intrusion by the waiter and curious glances from Marcia.
‘Okay, now I’ve told you everything about me except my shoe size,’ she said. ‘It’s your turn to answer my questions.’
Rocky laughed and nodded slowly. ‘Okay. That sounds fair. Although I warn you, you might not like the answers,’ he teased.
‘Okay, first question. What do you want right now, more than anything?’ She asked the question with a part of her hoping that he would give the answer she wanted.
He replied without hesitation. ‘The international promotion I’ve been working for.’
It wasn’t the answer she had hoped for, but she carried on gamely.
‘Apart from your promotion, what do you really want?’ she persisted.
This time he paused and thought for a long moment. ‘I think I have everything I want,’ he said slowly. ‘Except maybe the new squash racquet I saw in town last week.’ He looked at the downcast expression on her face and burst into laughter.
‘Faye, you are so—’ He broke off in the middle of his sentence, groaning as he saw Nii approaching their table. Now relieved of his teenaged burden, he was heading towards them, his eyes fixed purposefully on Faye.
‘I don’t think I can stand another minute of that guy,’ Rocky said softly. ‘Let’s go.’
Faye, who had been feeling increasingly uneasy with each step Nii took towards her, nodded in agreement and quickly picked up her evening bag. She stood up just as he reached them.
‘Oh, pretty lady, are you off so soon?’ His face fell in disappointment as she smiled and bid him a brief farewell before walking quickly in the direction of the door. Rocky walked alongside her, stopping at the bar to pay their bill before guiding her out into the warm night.
Safely inside the car, they burst into laughter as he gunned the car engine and drove rapidly out of the car park.‘Did you see his face?’ Faye gasped with laughter. ‘He looked like someone had snatched his food away just as he was about to eat!’
Rocky glanced across at her, smiling at her amusement. ‘Talking of food, are you hungry? You haven’t eaten anything since lunch.’
Touched by his concern, she nodded. ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind something to eat – oh, Rocky, look!’ She pointed excitedly through the window at a woman sitting in front of a coal pot heaped with burning coals. On top of the fire was a huge frying pan. Rocky, who had automatically slowed down, pulled over to the side of the road.
‘I was about to offer you a decent meal and you want kelewele?’ He shook his head in mock sorrow.
‘Please, I love it!’ Sighing in defeat, Rocky slipped off his seat belt and walked across to where the woman was stationed. A few minutes later he was back with a newspaper-wrapped parcel giving off the sweet spicy aroma of hot fried plantain. Faye beamed at him and held onto the parcel as he drove them home, inhaling the appetising scent of ginger, spices and hot chilli.
As soon as they drove through the gates, she jumped out of the car and raced into the kitchen. Emptying the contents of the parcel onto a plate, she sat down at the kitchen table, contentedly munching the delicious pieces of sweet plantain. Rocky came in and sat at the table watching in disbelief as she steadily ate her way through the large portion of food.
When she finally stopped eating, he leaned across and gently brushed an errant crumb from the corner of her mouth. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,’ he said looking at her in fascination.
Feeling more than a little ashamed at her display of greed, Faye gave a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted some.’ She bit her lower lip and looked at him apologetically.
Reaching for a lock of her hair, he pulled her
face close to his. ‘Don’t worry about it, this is what I want,’ he said in a low voice. Brushing her lips softly with his own, he kissed her lightly. Tugging gently, he pulled her even closer as the kiss deepened. She reached for him, caressing his strong jaw with her hand as she felt a passion she had never experienced before flood through her. Rocky kicked his chair away and slid his hand behind her waist, standing up with her in one fluid movement. She gasped but didn’t break away as she felt his warm hand stroking her bare back.
The sound of the front door slamming caused them both to freeze for a split second before jumping apart. Faye was breathing so hard she could have been running and Rocky, for once, had lost his composure and looked dazed. They jumped again as the kitchen door burst open. Amma stood in the doorway; she looked tearful but had a broad grin on her face.
Faye moved forward in concern but Amma held up her hand to stop her. Her voice was shaking and more breathless than ever.
‘Edwin’s just asked me to marry him!’
15
Spiritual Culture
The bus bounced along the tarmac road, speeding through miles of green bush and forest. The air conditioning didn’t quite succeed in masking the scent of the dried fish the woman in the seat behind her had packed tightly into the basket on her lap and Faye shifted slightly in her seat, hoping to move out of the path of the strong aroma. When that didn’t work, she adjusted the knob above her head that directed the flow of the cold air and sighed with relief as the fishy vapours cleared.
Auntie Akosua, seated beside her, smiled sympathetically. Although not directly in the line of fire, she had picked up the occasional whiff from the basket and could well imagine Faye’s discomfort.
‘We’ve only got about another hour to go before we reach Kumasi,’ she whispered consolingly.
The bus swerved violently as a car that had been overtaking them was forced to cut in front of them when another vehicle unexpectedly appeared in the oncoming lane. The passengers exclaimed loudly while Faye saw her life flashing before her eyes.
After shouting insinuations about the other driver’s mother through the window, the bus driver calmed down and went back to listening to his radio, muttering quietly to himself.
‘Honestly, the driving in this country is crazy,’ Faye said in exasperation. ‘Why can’t people just follow the rules?’
Auntie Akosua, who had been crossing herself vigorously at their narrow escape, shook her head in resignation. ‘Too many people get behind the wheel without learning how to drive properly,’ she said. ‘Unfortunately, our police force is so under-equipped, they can rarely enforce traffic rules, and some of them are only too happy to look the other way in return for a quick bribe.’
‘We’ve driven past two car crashes so far on this journey alone,’ Faye shuddered. ‘It makes you wonder how many people are getting hurt all the time.’
‘Unfortunately, road accidents are all too common.’ She leant back into the cushioned seat and smiled at Faye. ‘But let’s talk about more pleasant things, my dear. How is Amma? Amelia told me her news when we spoke on the phone yesterday. She must be very excited.’
Faye sighed, remembering how impossible Amma had been to live with since Wednesday night. ‘Excited is not the word, Auntie Akosua,’ she grimaced. ‘She’s completely lost her mind. You can’t get a sensible word out of the girl. She’s either dancing around hugging and kissing everyone or she’s crying her eyes out because she can’t stand the thought of a whole year without Edwin!’
The older woman laughed heartily. ‘Well, that’s love for you! I must say it’s nice to see you young ones starting out on your lives together – it reminds me of how exciting it once was for us oldies.’
‘You’re not old,’ Faye protested, looking at the still-unlined attractive face beside her. She tried, and failed, to contain her curiosity. ‘How did you and Uncle Charlie meet?’
‘Oh my goodness,’ Auntie Akosua exclaimed. ‘It all seems so long ago. Let me see – we were at University together and both of us were passionate about politics. We were members of the Debating Society and ended up having heated arguments every time we attended meetings.’
She paused, her eyes half closed as she cast her mind back. She smiled and went on.
‘On one occasion, the President of the Debating Society was so fed up with our constant arguing that he ordered us to go to the students’ cafeteria and stay there until we had finished. I think we even argued about which table to sit at to finish arguing!’
‘I used to suffer terribly from migraines, which was probably not surprising given how much time I spent getting fired up about politics. Anyway, that day as we were talking, I felt a migraine coming on. Charlie was busy making his point about something or other when he noticed that I had gone quiet and looked unwell. I think he was so shocked that I was actually human that he didn’t quite know how to react! He walked me back to my hall of residence and made sure there was someone to take care of me before he left. When he came back later that evening, I was still feeling weak, so for once we actually talked instead of arguing – and that was how our friendship began.’
‘That’s a beautiful story,’ Faye sighed wistfully. ‘I love happy endings.’
She sniffed and quickly adjusted the air vent above her head before settling back into her seat.
They had been on the road for over three hours and Faye was beginning to feel the effects of her early start. For once she had beaten the neighbourhood rooster to the punch, setting her alarm to go off at four-thirty. Auntie Akosua had arrived at five-thirty to collect her, with Uncle Charlie looking distinctly drowsy in the driver’s seat. After dropping them at the State Transport terminal where they were to board the six o’clock bus to Kumasi, he had driven back home to catch up on his interrupted sleep.
Despite the early hour, the Transport yard was busy with anxious travellers milling around the departure areas. Huge sacks of foodstuffs and heavy bags were strewn around the bus terminal, many with their owners perched on top, waiting for the buses to start loading. Their bus, which had left only slightly late, was clean and comfortable except, of course, for the aroma of dried fish wafting over her seat.
After a couple of hours on the road, they had stopped at a wayside cafe in the town of Nkawkaw where most of the passengers had rushed off in search of the washrooms and facilities. A quick glance at the food in the cafe – anaemic-looking egg and sardine sandwiches and huge meat pies encased in dense pastry – was enough for Faye, and she settled for a soft drink and a sweet bread roll.
After a short break they had set off again, driving through miles and miles of unspoiled virgin land and forest. The road undulated through the hilly landscape like a curling ribbon of tarmac peppered with huge potholes, causing cars to swerve without warning into the oncoming lane. Impatient drivers, anxious to reach their destination, would often overtake slower vehicles in their paths, careless of the dangers of oncoming vehicles. Faye kept her focus on the passing landscape, fascinated by the many small villages they drove through.
Now, with less than an hour before they were due to arrive in Kumasi, where they would be met and driven to Ntriso, Faye felt her lack of sleep catching up with her. She glanced across at Auntie Akosua whose closed eyes and steady breathing indicated that she had nodded off. Faye burrowed into her seat and drifted off to sleep, oblivious even to the aroma of smoked fish.
Auntie Akosua’s hand shaking her shoulder roused her from a dreamless sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she peered out of the window. Instead of green bush and tall trees, the landscape was now distinctly urban. Large buildings covered in a layer of red dust lined the dual carriageway on which they drove. The signboards welcomed them to Kumasi and pedestrians dodged in and out of the heavy traffic.
‘So this is the famous Garden City,’ Faye murmured, looking at the drooping vegetation lining the highway.
‘It’s certainly not looking its best these days,’ Auntie Akosua said. ‘It’s a pity because, as the capi
tal of the Ashanti region, Kumasi is a city that is rich in ancient history, culture and tradition.’
She gestured to their left. ‘If you follow that road, it takes you to Manhyia Palace, the residence of the Asantehene, the King of the Ashantis. Kumasi used to be such a beautiful city; when we were younger, it was always an adventure to come here. These days, people seem to just build anywhere they wish, the traffic is terrible and so much of the city’s infrastructure is a mess. Look over there.’ Leaning across Faye, she pointed towards a group of people walking slowly down the main road. They were all clad in traditional cloths of black and red and the women wore black headscarves.
‘Funerals are quite commonplace at the weekend in Kumasi,’ Auntie Akosua said. ‘You’re likely to see a good number of people dressed in mourning clothes.’
She glanced at her watch. ‘My younger brother, Kodjo, will meet us at the transport yard in Kumasi and drive us on to Ntriso. It’s about another forty minutes drive – once we get out of the Kumasi traffic, that is.’
They drove through the slow moving traffic, eventually arriving at the bus terminus. The passengers piled off, elbowing each other in a bid to retrieve their luggage first from the cavernous hold of the dusty bus. Auntie Akosua held her ground and soon returned to where Faye was standing, clutching both their bags triumphantly.
‘Sister Akosua, I’m here!’ Both women turned around at the sound of a male voice behind them. Faye looked on as Auntie Akosua gave a loud cry and embraced the short, wiry man who had just appeared. He hugged her warmly before stepping away and smiling at Faye, his teeth as strong and white as his sister’s.
‘Kodjo, meet Faye Bonsu.’ Auntie Akosua smiled as she watched him look at Faye appraisingly. ‘Does she remind you of anyone?’
Faye stood awkwardly as the older man scrutinised her features for a few moments and nodded slowly. ‘She reminds me very much of Sister Asantewaa,’ he said finally. ‘Is this her child?’
From Pasta to Pigfoot Page 29
