Missionary Position
Page 17
Warthogs, five.
Kobs, three.
Elephants, zero.
Davis dropped us at check-in with a promise to return three days later to drive us down to Kumasi and then home to Accra.
Three days for elephants. The odds were in our favor.
Our room didn’t compare to Kai’s luxury mini-suite or either of our bedrooms in Accra. Or even Ama’s.
“Sparse,” I said, looking around the bare walls and lack of decor, sniffing the vague smell of cleaning solution and maybe bleach. The king bed looked inviting. Until I sat on it. “Hard.”
“Not what you envisioned?” Kai flopped down next to me. Or rather bounced off the extra firm mattress.
“It’s fine.”
“Uh oh.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I was married long enough to understand ‘fine’ means ‘not fine, not even close to fine’.”
“No, really. Three nights. It’ll be grand.” I gave him my best pageant smile.
“Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“That smile. It’s scary.”
I took on a serious expression. “Okay. Truth? It’s not what I imagined.”
“What did you imagine?”
“Tents for one.”
“You? Sleeping in a tent?”
“Not a regular tent for camping. One of those safari tents like in Out of Africa or on a brochure for game preserves in Tanzania.”
“Again, different country. Not Ghana.”
“I know, but a girl has her fantasies.”
“And you have a wild imagination,” he whispered right as he kissed me.
His kisses made me forget about my safari fantasies. Serenaded by the hum of the air conditioner, we made love.
Delightful Double Dutch mind eraser.
“DO YOU HEAR that?” I shoved Kai’s shoulder.
“What?” he grumbled from his side of the bed.
“Are you awake?”
“I’m speaking, so yeah, I’m awake. Now.” He rolled over and threw his leg over mine.
“Listen …” I waited for the sound to return.
A thump, thump, and then a rustling noise sounded outside of our window. The noise carried over the whir of the air conditioner.
“What is it?”
“I have no idea. That’s why I asked you.”
Yesterday we fell asleep after sex, missing the prime afternoon viewing of the elephants down at the watering hole. We barely made it to dinner before the restaurant closed. From the thin line of light behind the curtains, it was now morning. And something thumped and rustled outside our window.
“Find out what it is.” I pushed his shoulder again.
“Why me?”
“You’re the man.”
“Seriously?” He rolled his eyes at me before standing and padding naked across to the window. Pulling aside the curtain, he covered his nudity and peered out. “You need to get dressed.”
“Are we under attack?” My voice betrayed my alarm. I covered myself with the sheet up to my chin.
“No.” He laughed and grabbed his shorts. “Get dressed.” Yesterday’s T-shirt was pulled on and he stared at me. “Hurry up.”
“Let me see out the window.” I scrambled off the bed wrapped in a sheet toga.
He blocked me and spun me around to face my suitcase. “No, no peeking.”
I dressed with whatever I found first and put on my sandals. “Ready?”
“Grab your phone,” he instructed, heading for the door.
“Phone?”
“Trust me. We need photographic evidence.”
I found my phone and followed him out the door of our little chalet to the strip of grass separating it from the long row of other rooms and pool.
Only the pool wasn’t visible through the elephant.
The elephant who stood mere yards away, pulling up plants with his trunk and stuffing them into his mouth.
An elephant in the garden. Right outside our room.
He turned his wrinkled butt in our direction and his tail flicked side to side, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind we were there.
“Quick!” I whisper shouted. “Take my picture with him.” I handed the camera to Kai and then posed with my arms out, pointing to my new best friend.
“Okay, now me.” Kai’s voice sounded almost as excited as mine.
I snapped a picture of his beautiful, smiling face standing next to an elephant’s ass.
“This is the best morning ever!” I continued whisper shouting.
“Why are you speaking like that?” he asked, using his normal speaking voice. “You’re a very silly woman.”
“Shh. Don’t scare him away.” I faced our breakfast guest and watched him meander down the row of plants, deliberately picking and choosing what to eat. Eventually he moseyed away from the hotel rooms and down the path to the waterhole, his breakfast buffet evidently finished.
Nothing would top that.
Or so I believed.
First day elephant count? Seven.
Suck it, warthogs.
Our afternoon walking safari brought us down to the waterhole where two families of elephants, a few antelope, additional warthogs, and countless birds intermingled. Thankfully, zero crocodiles had been spotted, although they were rumored to lurk in the murky, muddy water. Earlier in the day, another group had a python sighting. Kai and I met eyes, laughing at Solomon’s warning. I said a small prayer of thanks, grateful for our room and door instead of a tent.
Later, while we sat on a terrace next to the hotel pool, sipping well deserved beers and watching the sun fade into a pink haze of a sunset, I counted my blessings. A sweet floral scent tinted the ever present faint smell of smoke.
Kai held my hand between our chairs, softly rubbing the edge of his thumb against my palm.
“Do you ever have perfect days? Days you don’t want to end so badly it makes you sad?” I asked him, continuing to face the view over the flat plain and the watering hole in the growing shadows below us.
A soft, slow smile replaced his typical cocky grin. “I know exactly what you mean. Today is one of those days for me.”
I beamed at him. “Me too. Thank you.”
“I love making you happy, Selah.”
There was that word. The one we’d danced around for months.
Falling in love was the last thing I expected to happen.
Kai was the last person I expected to fall for.
But I had. Somewhere and sometime over the past weeks, I’d fallen. Hard.
Those butterflies schoolgirls had in their stomachs took up residence in mine.
It was silly.
I didn’t do love.
Or butterflies.
Kai kissed my hand. His touch anchored me in the moment. The here of a hazy pink sky and black silhouetted trees. The now of him.
I loved him.
I was screwed.
And not in a good way.
OUR BREAKFAST FRIEND didn’t return the next morning. However, while we sat on the patio eating breakfast, a family of warthogs snuffled around the edge of the lawn. They reminded me of dogs—big, bristly, tusked dogs.
On our final morning, I cut my flat, bland omelet into tiny pieces, moving them around the plate, but not eating.
“No appetite?” Kai asked, touching my arm.
I shrugged.
“What’s going on?”
What would I confess? My sadness over leaving the elephants? I couldn’t believe our three months together were ending? I’d squandered the time and didn’t savor every moment with him?
I’d fallen in love with him?
Who said those things over room temperature eggs and watery coffee?
“I miss real coffee,” I said instead.
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the ‘a’. “I don’t believe you.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
“Not fine.” He ducked to meet my eyes.
I focused
on dissecting my omelet. His hand covered mine and slowly moved my plate out of cutting range.
“I’m sad.” I poked the table with my fork.
“I gathered as much.” He placed my fork across the table with my plate.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Are you sure?”
I met his eyes, feeling tears sting. Looking away, I scratched the side of my nose to distract myself from crying.
“Selah,” he paused, waiting for me to look at him, “it’s okay to be sad.”
I nodded. “I really do miss amazing coffee. Hell, I’d settle for decent. I don’t think I realized how much I loved it until it was gone.”
He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t comment. With a deep exhale, he kissed my temple. “I understand.”
I moved away from him, dipping my face to swipe my eyes and clear my throat. “When does Davis arrive?”
Kai checked his watch. “Two hours.”
“Good. Let’s say good-bye to the pachyderms.”
“What about the rest of the animals?”
“Fine. I’ll say good-bye to the kobs and the birds, maybe even the warthogs, but the baboons who stole my mango? No way. They can go fuck themselves.” I jerked my chin in a physical scoff to emphasize my point.
“Silly primates. No one gets between you and a tasty mango.”
“Bastards.” Anger was an easier emotion for me than sadness.
Kai held my hand as we walked down to the viewing platform. We didn’t speak or talk about his departure next week. This time he wouldn’t return after a few days. This time there wouldn’t be reunion sex. His three months in Ghana were finished.
My funny, brilliant man would be leaving me.
The thought stabbed me under my ribs where my tiny, shriveled heart sputtered.
FOR THE TRIP to Kumasi, I sat in the backseat with Kai, needing to be close.
In my mind, a giant countdown clock ticked away the hours and minutes.
Or maybe it was a bomb, counting down to destruction.
I fidgeted in my seat, unable to find a position that would turn off my brain. We’d been driving for hours along the two lane road running south from Tamale. The sun sat close to the horizon on my side of the car. Unlike at home, the sun still rose at six and set at six. Every day. Now the rains had gone away, each day growing increasingly more arid than the last, but nothing else changed to indicate November began next week.
Davis listened to a Hi-Life music station, but none of us talked. I leaned my head on Kai’s shoulder and pretended to be sleepy. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me down to his lap. I giggled, imagining teenage Kai using this move to receive oral attention.
“You have a dirty mind,” he said.
“So do you if you know why I giggled.”
His stomach shook with amusement. “Nap. We have a couple hours until we reach our hotel.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and lay across the seat. He stroked my shoulder and down my side, keeping a slow rhythm until my eyes grew heavy. Surrounded by his scent and touch, I fell asleep to the hum of tires on the paved road.
Several consecutive bumps on the road jostled me awake. The car slowed when it drove over them, coming to a halt.
“Why are we stopping?” I blinked and struggled to sit up, but Kai pushed me down against his lap.
“It’s nothing. This is normal,” he whispered.
Because of the darkness outside, I had no idea of the hour. The headlights of Davis’ SUV lit up the shadowy side of the road where an old truck parked ahead of us. I lay still, listening for some indication of why we stopped.
“Put this inside your bra,” Kai said, slowly removing his watch.
“What? Why?” I asked, panic settling into my chest as my heart raced.
“Just do it.”
I tucked the warm steel into my bra when voices approached the car.
“What do you want me to do, Mister Hendriks?” Davis asked.
“They’ll probably ask for a dash.” Kai shifted to remove his wallet, extracting a short stack of cedis and tucking it beneath me.
Dash? I’d heard of these roadblocks, but had never experienced one. The majority of the time, legit police activity, but sometimes, and often at night, roadblocks were set up to collect bribes—or dashes—from travelers, especially Obruni.
A flashlight illuminated the interior of the car. I shielded my eyes from the bright light. Kai reassuringly rested his hand on my shoulder. When the light moved away, it outlined a machine gun strapped over the shoulder of one of the men.
Machine gun?
Holy shit.
“Are we okay?” I whispered to Kai.
Something hard tapped against the driver’s window. Davis didn’t move to open it; the tapping and voices grew louder.
“Roll down the window,” Kai instructed, sounding relatively calm in the face of machine gun wielding men on the side of the road in the middle of deepest, darkest nowhere.
I couldn’t understand a word of what passed between Rambo and Davis, but Davis turned off the car, silencing the radio.
“These good men have asked to see your passports, Pah Pah.” Davis used the familiar term of honor for Kai.
I sat up, adrenaline coursing through me.
Kai tapped my shoulder. “Take the passports out of your purse.”
Inside the bag, I located the documents by feel, never taking my eyes from the armed man standing a few feet away. Kai took them from me and slipped half of his stack of cedis between the pages, then passed them to Davis.
From my position, I couldn’t see what the man did with the passports or the bribe. He said something additional to Davis, who turned and frowned at us. “Mr. Hendriks and I have been instructed to exit the car.”
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, but we should probably do as they say,” Kai said.
“Are you kidding me? You’re going out there with those men and their guns?” I asked, my voice screeching.
Kai kissed my forehead. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Unbuckling his seat belt, he moved to open the door.
“Have you ever had to get out before? At a security check point?”
“No, but there’s nothing to worry about.”
Reports of random armed robberies came to mind. “What if this isn’t an official roadblock?”
“I guess we’ll find out in a minute.” He opened the door. “Stay in the car.”
I protested, fear icing my blood.
“I’m serious, Selah. Stay inside the car.”
Helpless, I watched Kai and Davis walk to the front of the car where two men with machine guns flanked them. The headlights shone on the foursome, creating a terrifying tableau from my viewpoint between the front seats. Rambo used his machine gun to gesture, carelessly sweeping it from Kai to the front of the car and back. Inside the silent car, I couldn’t make out what Kai said to him, only that he lifted his hands, palms up.
Was he defending our innocence? Against what charges?
The uniformed man to his right spoke to Davis, who appeared to translate for Kai. Kai’s eyes met mine over the hood of the car, our gaze locked for a second as the end of the machine gun swung along the bumper. I couldn’t read his expression when he bent down and out of my line of sight. Davis also bent forward and disappeared, leaving only the two uniformed men standing, their guns held in their hands.
I scrambled inside my purse for my phone to call 911.
My breath caught in my throat.
Did Ghana have its own version of 911?
I held my phone and prayed, closing my eyes and calling upon God, Buddha, Jesus, Mary, and anyone who had any power to help.
Please don’t take Kai from me. I love him. I love him.
I love him.
My chest hurt from holding my breath. I exhaled and gulped air, waiting for the sound of machine gun fire.
Blood rushing inside my ears partially muted the voices approaching the car. I fro
ze.
Where they coming for me next?
A thousand horrible things flashed through my mind, each more terrifying than the next.
I covered my face with my hands and peered through my fingers.
Kai and Davis stood in front of the hood, shaking hands with Rambo I and Rambo II.
What happened?
How were their lives spared? Did they beg?
I clung to Kai when he sat down next to me, tears pouring from my eyes.
“Shhh, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Shhh, why are you crying?”
Davis started the car, shifting into gear while we rolled over the last of the speed bumps.
“I thought you were about to die. Both of you.” I choked out the words.
“Oh my love, no. No,” Kai whispered against my hair.
I sobbed against his chest. “I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Shhh. It’s okay. You won’t lose me.” He tightened his hold on me, pulling me across his lap.
“But I will. You’re leaving and everything will be over.” I wiped my cheeks with my palms. “What happened there? How did you escape?”
“Escape?”
“From the armed robbers?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “It was a security checkpoint, not robbers.”
“I didn’t see a booth.”
“The truck blocked it.”
“But they had guns.” I sniffled.
“Most have guns.”
“And they made you kneel in front of the car at gunpoint.”
“Is that what has you so upset?”
I nodded.
“They pointed out some damage to the underside of the bumper. It’s hanging loose and could fall off soon.”
All that for a loose bumper?
“Why did you take off your watch if you didn’t think we were about to be robbed?”
“Because if they saw my nice watch, they may have asked for a bigger dash. Same reason I took out only some of the cedis from my wallet.”
I leaned away and took a shaky breath. “We were never in mortal danger?”
Kai shook his head, his lips pressed together. “No, no mortal danger.”
Feeling foolish, I shifted off his lap. “Oh.”
“Come back.” He tugged me closer to his side.