CHIKÉ
Feeling half fulfilled that she had consented to my request, I called Alexa and it took approximately 25 minutes to arrange a ten year visa for Samira. The documents were sent to the police and she was discharged with immediate effect. The look of utter shock on all their faces—Samira, Rose and Malcolm—over how fast I had carried out the procedure made me a little smug. I even heard Malcom muttering how much he wanted us to be friends. Dutifully, I drove them back to the ice cream shop where they celebrated her release over cups of Ice cream in different flavours. I sat silently as Samira took pint sized scoops of each flavour into four cups. Before I could even begin to wonder who had the last cup, she placed one in front of me. By instinct, I refused because I had vowed to live a healthy life style, sugar was out of the question.
"Come on, you want me to teach you how to be lively and cheerful, right? Then eat up cos there's no better remedy than Ice Cream." She urged me and I still refused. All of a sudden, I felt a spoon being pressed to my mouth and Samira ordering me with the "Ah" sound to open my mouth. With a sigh, I did as she said and she gingerly fed me... the creamy goodness. Never had anything tasted this good in my mouth! I licked the spoon over and over again while they chuckled over my weird behavior. She handed over the cup so I could eat the rest myself. Each flavour tasted better than the last and when she sprinkled some chocolate chips on a vanilla scoop, I confessed out loud that it was the best thing I had ever tasted. Screw eating healthy for these few minutes!
"You're welcome!" Samira exclaimed with a wink and my heart beat sped two times it's usual speed but I made sure not to pay attention to it. I wanted a noncommittal relationship between us where no feelings were birthed. All I wanted was for her to help me out with my mission to be truly happy before I died, there was no room for sentiments and attachments. We stayed seated for about thirty minutes, engaging in small talk of which I was grateful for. I had no appeal to engage in deep conversations that would have me talking about my personal life.
A few customers returned, concerned over the closure of the shop hours ago and ordering take out Ice cream since the day had almost come to an end. I would have taken my leave but queerly, I didn't want to. I blamed that on the fact that Samira and I needed to talk about how to carry on with our mission and not the fact that I kind of liked their company. At last, it was time to lock up and call it a day. I offered to drop Samira off while Rose followed Malcolm in his battered truck. On the way home, I mused over getting Malcom a new truck. It was obvious that it needed an urgent upgrade and since I was in the process of changing lives, I felt that could be the first thing to do. I voiced my decision to Samira.
"Sounds like an amazing idea. Malcolm will be so thrilled. But are you sure you have enough?" She inquired with concern.
Scoffing, I said, "I am capable of buying a truck for every worker in Québec City. I'm certain buying one for him won't do a thing to my bank accounts." There was a look of pure awe on her face before she hastily recovered and responded "Cocky, much?" to which I smiled.
"So um, do you have any other idea as to how we could pull this off?" I asked her as I pulled over at the side of her building. With a car, the distance from the shop down here was quite minimal unlike when we walked.
"I need to think it through, okay? I want to make sure my end of the bargain is worth my ten years visa." She answered.
"Fair enough." I responded.
"Oh and please please please, can you try to dress more casual and less formal? This business look strips you off the cherry persona I hope to influence you with." She eyed me from head to toe. Personally, I had no problems with how I dressed for two reasons. The first was my profession: as a successful businessman, I had to look smart, sharp and formal to have the full business effect. Then secondly, my health: my emaciation had made me quite selective of what I wear. I couldn't wear anything that would have me looking lean and unhealthy. Imagine what the tabloids would say. I could probably lose so many important clients and the stocks of McAdams International would definitely drop by points. I shook the thought out of my head. Nevertheless, in the quest of achieving this novel mission highly inspired by my mother, I guess I could make a few adjustments.
"I'll see what I can do about that." I concurred and she nodded.
There was nothing left for us to say to each other, so we bade farewell. As she made a move to open the car door, she paused and turned to me.
"I don't know how to thank you for this amazing offer. A ten year stay in Canada? That is too much but I'm super thankful for this. I hope I can be able to pay you back for this by helping you smile and make others smile as well. However, I think you've begun the latter all on your own. You have made me smile so bright via your offer. Thank you so so much." I thought she was gonna cry but she didn't. Her words moved something deep within me. So I had succeeded in putting a smile on the first person? It felt strangely amazing, what I did. I could only nod in response. She climbed out, waved and ran into the building.
Exhaling and feeling a hundred pounds lighter, I drove into the night in comfortable silence. As soon as I was home, I ate the light dinner of vegetable sandwiches and soya bean milk which Harriet hurriedly prepared at my return. After the nightly dosage of my medicines, I showered and walked into my closet, a blue coloured towel hanging loosely around my waist. I marched around the closet, with my fingers lightly grazing each item. These were all clothes, innumerable, from my business collection. They consisted of Suits, blazers, turtle necks, dress shirts, ties, belts, loafers and other formal looking shoes. I fixed my gaze on them for a long time and then turned to compare the clothes from my Casual wear collection. They were less than half the size of the former collection.
Confirming that I had to loosen up a little, I concluded that some of the business wears had to go while more of casual wears had to replace them. Exiting my closet after wearing one of my favourite brand of boxers, I grabbed my phone and dialed Alexa's number.
"Alexa, sorry to call you at a late hour but I need you to do something urgently for me." There was no response.
"Hello? Alexa, are you there?" I stared at my phone to be sure she had picked up the call and I wasn't talking to myself. Confirming she had indeed picked, I placed it back on my left ear to resume the call. She had begun to speak, thank goodness!
"Yes, I am. I'm sorry sir but I was speechless that you apologized for calling late. You never do that sir." At my silence by reason of my confusion, she added, "You never apologize sir, so its new and weird."
Oh! I had noted that as well at the police station where I had apologized twice to Samira. What the hell made me do that? I was well aware of my narcissism but a man in my caliber could definitely show the same concern. I mean for years now, I had been answerable to no one but myself, hence why did I find myself owning up for my shortcomings?
"What do need me to do right now, sir?" Alexa's question tuned down my reverie. I laid down comfortably on my bed and commanded,
"Get in touch with Tommy Hilfiger. I want more denim, t-shirts, polos and basically casual wears, all to be delivered to me first thing tomorrow morning, understood" She affirmed and I hung up. It clearly wasn't a tedious job for her as she had always been responsible for my wardrobe arrangements. This was definitely a breeze for her.
I got into bed, fully contented with what I had accomplished for the day. It didn't take too long for my eyes to droop, all the fatigue of the day presented itself. But then, it all happened super fast the succeeding moment, I heard a familiar song which I recognized as my mother's favourite bedtime lullaby. I felt chills all over my spine and a peaceful sensation, so soothing it lulled me to a deep slumber.
My last thoughts were filled with nostalgia over my mother's familiar fragrance and her voice that I wished I could savour for the rest of my life.