Chiké
I didn't expect the night to turn out the way it did; walking home with the railway-singing lady. Work had been pretty hectic today and I had spent the entire time at the office, making sure everyone worked extra hard to secure the huge profiting deal we successfully acquired from our clients in China. I was looking forward to expanding my business into Asia, precisely China, Japan, South Korea and Malaysia. I initially had second thoughts concerning Malaysia seeing as it was there my Nigerian birth-mother gave birth to me and abandoned me but then the country was one of the fastest growing business/technology countries in Asia so I couldn't pass off the opportunity. Therefore, that morning we secured the contract to establish branches of my Company, McAdams International, into China. Hopefully, the following month, we would be having a meeting with our Japanese business partners.
Speaking of hope, I realized my soul would have regretted terribly if I had taken the leap to die some days ago. If for anything, this huge business contract I was honoured to sign today would have crumbled if I had died. I shook in distaste over the thought that I hadn't even placed anyone in charge of my business in my demise. Sure, my uncle was my next of kin and a Mogul in business but there still existed things I did that he couldn't handle. Actually, none could. So thank goodness I opted out on killing myself.
However, the burden to get more answers intensified within me so much so that I had to go in search of the railway-singing lady. A huge part of me felt she had a part to play in what my mother was trying to encourage me into doing. Finding the ice cream shop was a no-brainer as it was located here in Quebec city, just a stone's throw from a large departmental store. I confirmed that it was indeed owned by a man named Alfred Flynn, who worked as a part-time stripper in a club Downton. Why he name an Ice Cream shop after his stripper nickname was beyond my understanding. Worse, didn't the people who worked there and the others who bought the ice cream there, think of how weird the whole thing sounded? Human beings sure did crazy things.
I wasn't out of this theory as I sure did crazy things as well. Coming by for the past five days (now six, if you counted tonight) to the shop, sitting at the same spot and ordering nothing but then leaving a tip for absolutely nothing. Well they never complained that I frequented there and never ordered anything so the least I could do was tip them well. Going back to being crazy, I would sit and do nothing but stare at the railway-singing lady, wondering what step to take. Each time she came to my table to take my order, I would always be at a loss for words and just shake my head, declining whatever she offered. I wondered when I would be bold enough to say something that would lead me to finding my answers.
But then today, when I closed from the office pretty late, I ought to have gotten into my car and ordered Phillip to drive me home however, I found myself telling Phillip to take my car back home while I walked to clear my head. I walked and walked for hours, watching people along the way, some alone and others with family or friends or business colleagues or spouses. An ache in my heart throbbed over reality that I was alone, no one close enough to talk deeply to or to just be with. My health was a bit stable since I began to receive treatment although I knew I was only prolonging the inevitable. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind so I wouldn't do something I'd regret.
Gaining consciousness of my thoughts and current environment, I was astonished to find myself at the Ice cream shop and deeply shocked to glance at my wristwatch observing it was well past 10pm. How in the world did I get here by this time? I noticed the other employee was just about to lock the shop when she noticed my presence. She seemed shocked as well that I had come. The singing lady was nowhere in sight. Maybe she had left earlier. A wave of sadness zoomed in on me but I ignored it. The polite thing I could do to the lady who still hadn't said a word but roamed my body with her eyes, was to smile and wave my right hand in greeting. That did the trick of opening her mouth to say something and then when I asked about her colleague, she spoke at the same time the railway-singing lady walked out from behind the bus. I seemed to be saying the words "railway-singing lady" too often for my liking. It wasn't like she was some kind of pacifier or angel, so why did my heart beat a tad faster when I saw her and the expression of surprise she wore on her face? Why did I find her beautiful when she gaited closer? Why did her voice, as she finally spoke, do funny things to my stomach? A huge NO, to any of these emotions. I wasn't going to give in to anything other than asking her a few questions that could satisfy my curiosity and then walk away without looking back!
So why was it excruciatingly difficult to come up with a single word or question to get my much needed answers? For the life of me, I couldn't formulate anything as my thoughts were completely blank. That would have been different if only I knew what to say or where to start from.
"My name is Chiké by the way, I don't think we have introduced ourselves." I stated at last, applauding myself mentally for finding a good angle to start from; introduction!
"No, we haven't, um I am Samira, but my family calls me Sammy and my friend at the shop, Rose, calls me Sam." she seemed to realize she had spoken much more than necessary, notwithstanding, her voice was shaky and... Different. It was a relief to know I wasn't the only one affected by this.
"What then would you like me to call you?" At my question, her head which was bowed to the ground as we walked the whole time, snapped up to my direction, making me wonder if I sounded flirty.
"Samira. Samira is fine with me." She said at last, facing the ground as usual. Maybe the ground was able to communicate with her because I didn't understand why one's gaze would be transfixed by the ground that one wouldn't look up to at least have eye contact with whom one was talking to.
"Are you always this shy with strangers or is it just me?" I always awarded myself for being blunt and able to say what I thought to someone, no holds barred. Therefore, blurting out the question wasn't novel.
"Oh no! It's just that I'm eh... Well, I'm walking home with a guy I don't even know, so late at night." She replied, a part of me felt that wasn't entirely the truth but I chose not to push further so as not to scare her off. It wasn't like the streets were dark and deserted. A lot of shops were still open, people still roamed around the streets and the street lights coupled with the lights emanating from these shops chased away darkness.
"I see." I eventually answered. We kept on walking, none saying a thing, I guess we were trying to adapt to each other's presence.
"Why do you always wear a suit?" She asked out of the blue. I glanced at her—She was a couple inches taller than me but because we walked with a few gaps in between us, she was eye to eye level with me—and noted it wasn't a question she felt she wasn't supposed to ask but it no doubt had been on her mind.
I shrugged and said, "I'm a business man. This is what I wear." in a duh tone and then asked, "Why the question?"
"Nothing really. It's just that in all the six, sorry, few times I've seen you," She somewhat blushed over the fact that she had been caught counting the times I had come to the see her. Or in her mind, how many times I had come to the Ice Cream shop, not to see her. "Each time, you're always looking official."
I looked down at my ash coloured, well tailored designer suit and my matching trench coat, a bit baggy to hide my leanness, wondering what was wrong with looking official and business-like. Did she think I wore sweatshirts and pants to my office?
"What's wrong with my outfit?" I queried, puzzled.
"No-Nothing. I just always wonder why you never wear anything else. You always end up looking too formal when you come to the shop which exudes a casual and informal setting." She had a point. Everyone I encountered each time I visited, often wore casual clothes as they ordered their ice cream. It wasn't like I couldn't do that but I usually dropped by from work. I never went home to change first.
"Oh I get it now." I responded with a nod though I made no decision to rectify the situation. I could barely picture myself going home to change and then returning for what? It wasn't like I would stay at the Ice Cream shop for more than an hour. Besides, I only stayed that long because I couldn't bring myself to talk to her.
"It's okay. You don't have to change your clothes or anything." She commented as if reading my thoughts. I nodded again.
Ultimately, we got to her house, a large seven-storey building with many apartments. It seemed fair for an ice cream shop employee though I highly doubted her entire apartment was half the size of my living room. I wondered how it felt to live in something I'd term as a cubicle where you could see your whole property in just one place. I had always lived a luxurious life for as long as I could remember. Neither of us made a move to leave. Oddly, I wanted to prolong our conversation, sadly I couldn't think of what to say. I noticed she battled with the exact indecisiveness.
"Do you want to—"
"Will you like to—"
We both said simultaneously and smiled at each other. I didn't think mine could qualify as a smile, just a slant parting of my lips. Smiling especially over trivial things had stopped being my forte ever since I lost my parents.
"Ladies first." As the gentleman I always acted as, I gestured for her to speak up first.
"Will you like to hang out sometime? You look like you might need a friend." She lowered her voice at the mention of 'friend'. For a minute, I wondered why she was offering friendship to me, a complete stranger but then, I remembered my mission to get answers and so I agreed.
"Sure. We could have dinner tomorrow. I know a great restaurant uptown that has the best intercontinental dishes." I suggested the restaurant because it offered a private spot where we could talk uninterruptedly while we ate.
"No, I offered so I'll be the one to plan this. Dinner tomorrow, my treat." She said, sizing me up and down, making me a little uncomfortable but as a man, I hid my discomfort well.
Sighing, I inquired, "All right, I'll see you. What time?" since she didn't state the exact time. To me, time was money and every second would always count in whatever I chose to do in life.
"Seven, do not be late! I'll see you at the Ice Cream shop and then we'll go together." She answered while climbing the few flights of stairs that would lead her into the main floor of the building. I actually thought dinner to her meant Ice cream but when she said 'we'll go together', I found myself wondering where she had in mind. Despite that, I approved and waited for her to go in before I turned to leave. However, she stopped by the door and turned back to me.
"Oh I forgot to mention, do not wear a suit or anything formal tomorrow. I want you to dress casual and cozy." These were her final words before she walked in through the open door, halting any negation coming from my end.
On my walk back home, I shook my head in worry and wondered what I had just agreed to.