CHIKÉ
Wherever Samira was concerned, I couldn't seem to keep my emotions at bay. If it were someone else, I'd have left them at the restaurant and driven home with no regrets whatsoever, however, when I took off from the coffee shop, ready to shut myself, solidify the walls of my heart, I found I couldn't do that to her. She seemed to hold the key to the new me.
Even the case of suicide months ago, absolutely no one knew about it but the way I let it all out, it would have appeared to be a session with a professional therapist. In my heart of hearts, I thought she'd judge me or abandon me for my suicidal thoughts but she had grabbed my hands and given me hope. That was the closest form of intimacy I had received since I lost my parents. It made me realize it was what I needed. Someone who'd be there for me at all times, motivating me, inspiring me to be the man I ought to be. To be the sound in my silence, the solace in my storm, the light in my darkness!
I realized last night, that Samira held that role!
My mother occupied the position yet I never showed her enough gratitude as I should have and I regretted my ignorance till date. Now, I valued the new woman in my life. All five feet eleven inches of her, body and soul. She had slowly filled that void spot in my life and made me... whole. And the most astonishing of all was we weren't even dating. There was nothing romantic going on between us although I wanted it to. The thought of us rendered me amazed every time; the fact that a woman would be so valuable to me despite not occupying the role of a girlfriend, fiancée or wife. She simply gave herself to making sure I was happy, all as a friend. Wow! For the rest of my days, I vowed to appreciate her more for her significance in my life.
This morning, after receiving an email from an address I confirmed as Rose's, Samira's friend, I forwarded her email of the details concerning the orphanage to Stan, so he could assert its legality and advanced to calling and cancelling all appointments for the day. I felt unease and much worse than I was yesterday. I kept on coughing, throwing up more blood and feeling my life seep away. I considered calling the doctor but the thought of spending my day at the hospital didn't sound good in my ears. If I were to leave the world today, who was the first and last person I hoped to talk to?
I knew the answer to that without straining my thoughts. I picked up my phone and dialed her number, not before checking the time to ascertain it was a decent time to call knowing we stayed up late last night. The time read 11:45am. Thank goodness! It was close to noon. Ample time to call her. She picked up on the first ring and a happy part of me believed she had been anticipating my call. I grinned at the thought of that being true.
"Hey, I was just about to call you." she answered.
"Really? That feels special, raincheck?" I couldn't stop grinning knowing she would have called me if I didn't. Silly, but not often did I get a call that wasn't business related.
I felt her grin as she said, "Deal," it made me truly ecstatic. "How are you feeling today?"
I deliberated hiding the truth but she had grown to be a confidant. I couldn't conceal the truth anymore.
"Worse! I'm just calling to speak with you in case you're the last person I get to speak with before my life ends." I confessed, a forlorn presence suddenly cast upon me.
"Don't say that!" she rebuked, "What happened to you fighting, huh? I thought last night, you promised you wouldn't concede to defeat?" technically, I never replied with a promise to do anything last night, but I kept that little detail to myself.
"I know, but after Harriet's sumptuous breakfast and tasty guava juice, I haven't been feeling well. I have taken my medication though. I'm hoping the fatigue I feel wears off soon."
"Who's Harriet?" of all the things I mentioned, her question wasn't what I expected.
"She's my personal chef. She was once my Nanny but when I became an adolescent and in no need of a Nanny anymore, my parents rehired her as a cook. She's been here for years, more like a mother to me." I expounded. Harriet was another woman I appreciated. I just didn't know how to repay her. I guessed that would be my new plan.
"Oh... Okay." She breathed out, oddly. I chose to ignore her response because to me it was perhaps bordered on the lines of jealousy, the fact that another woman was caring for me.
"What are your plans for the day?" I enquired, uber interested in knowing what she was going to do all day before we met for dinner. Dinner with her was the only activity I looked forward to with glee today.
She went on and on about all she had done this morning and all she planned to do before dinner. My attention took a detour as pain seized my heart like never before. Literal pain in my chest. I gripped my heart with my right hand and that seemed to ease the pain a bit. Suddenly I was coughing, deep, dry, painful expulsion of air from my lungs, mingled with its new ally, blood. I search for my handkerchief which I had on with me all the time but it was nowhere in sight.
"AHHH!!!" I groaned, affected by the pain.
"Are you all right?" her voice switched to panic mode and I tried to do all it took to speak up, just to calm and reassure her but I was too weak to do such. Still pondering how to ameliorate my situation, it all worsened. The ache spread across my whole body that indeed, I felt it was the end. I rolled over in anguish until I fell face flat on the floor.
"Chiké? Chiké? Answer me, please!"
"Hello?"
"Hello?"
"Oh God, no! Please, please, hang on, okay? I'm on my way now!"
I heard her speak, heard the fright eminent in her voice but all I could do was close my eyes and wait for the unpleasant sensation in me to subside.
Or wait for the end.
***********
SAMIRA
"Oh God, oh God, this can't be happening right now. NO!!!" I yelled, unintentionally rewarded with everyone's attention at the ice cream shop. However, for the first time, I cared less. Rose ran over to me, surprised by my panic, Malcolm was in the recreational vehicle itself, sorting out the billings of our customers. He looked at me frantically as I walked over, threw my apron into the van and turned to leave.
"Where are you running off to, young lady?" she called in a mother-like tone but I paid her no heed.
"Sam? Sam, talk to me! What's going on?" She screamed, stopping me on my tracks. I turned to her direction, my hands quivering beyond control.
"It's Chiké, something is wrong with him. I don't know what it is but my instincts tell me he's not all right at the moment." I answered, hoping she'd understand but she seemed to think I was bluffing.
"Calm down, all right? I'm sure he's attending to whatever is wrong with him, okay? He's got lots of employees to sort it out. You need to chill." her comment was my undoing. My anger flared, coupled with my fear of the unknown.
"He's got cancer! I just got off the phone while talking to him and his state of health deteriorated during the call. I need to be sure that he's fine, Rose. I don't know how I'd feel if anything bad happened to him." my outcry was an outburst of emotions I couldn't subdue. I watched her appearance move from nonchalance to a shocked awareness. Peering behind her, I examined how loud my holler had rung and exhaled in respite that the others, especially our customers, were oblivious to our conversation. Turning 180 degrees, Rose called,
"Hey Malcolm, toss me the keys to the truck. Rose and I are heading somewhere. It's an emergency!" Shocked, I could only stand next to her. This was the first time she had called him by his full name. Bossy Rose had resurfaced! We both waited while Malcolm did as she had ordered and ran to the truck to find Chiké and be sure he was all right. Malcolm stayed behind to see to the business. Lately, we had been closing impromptu and word got to our boss who well-nigh fired us.
"Where are we headed?" Rose asked, running to the driver's side while I moved shotgun. It wasn't until we had fastened our seatbelts that I realized I actually didn't know where we were headed. I had no clue where Chiké lived or worked. Shit! And then I remembered the card.
"Rose, where's the business card I gave you this morning?" asking for the card he requested I gave Rose so she could send details of the orphanage to him, I pumped my fists in the air in delight as she brought it out from the back pockets of her pink Jean pants. Wasting no further time, I collected it and called the number displayed, praying that it went through. It did, thank God! I waited for five seconds until a female picked up and answered.
"McAdams International, how may I help you?" oh, I guessed she was his secretary or something.
"Um, can I talk to Chiké please? Uh, sorry, Mr McAdams, I mean." I corrected my words by checking the business card where I found his name in full. They wouldn't refer him at work by his first name alone.
"I'm sorry but Mr McAdams is not available at the moment." fear gripped me.
"Has he been rushed to the hospital then?" I requested, hungry for information.
"Hospital? What do you mean?" from her tone, I knew she had no idea of her boss' condition.
"Um, I can't explain if he hasn't but I spoke to him some minutes ago via phone call and the last thing I detected from him was like a cardiac arrest or something worse." I breathed the words out in desperation, praying that she believed me.
"Well he called this morning to cancel all of today's appointments but he gave no explanation. He could be off somewhere, perhaps at his golf club or attending to other business related affairs. I don't know who you are, madam, but I'm not going to fall for this malicious trick."
"I am not a fraud! Here's proof, I was the one he bought a purse for, another for my best friend and a truck for her boyfriend. I know Chiké and I'm telling the truth." My patience was starting to wear out. I glanced at Rose who, although couldn't hear our conversation, could feel my rage boiling. I placed the call on speaker mode.
"Well, I am his Personal Assistant, I was the one who arranged for the Truck and the Hermès and Dior purses for my boss and I'm certain that if he is having any challenge, physically, mentally or financially, I'll be the first to know. So goodbye mad—" Rose didn't let her finish and neither did I as we both chorused.
"He has Cancer!!!" if I mentioned the word cancer again, I would faint, no doubt about that.
Our words silenced her. I could feel her prim, prudish demeanor shatter and I waited with a smile. He didn't tell you he has cancer, but he told me. So much for being his Personal Assistant! My subconscious sang in glee with her tongue stuck out.
"Listen Personal Assistant, he told my friend he's got cancer because he likes her and trusts her, okay? Believe her when she says he isn't feeling okay right now. Please we need to find him as soon as possible, as he might be in a more terrible condition right this moment. If you have a heart, which I suspect you do, you'd tell us where he is right now!" My super duper cool best friend demanded after seconds of no response from the shocked PA.
"You leave me no choice but to believe you. However, right after this call, I'm calling the police so if you're both lying, be sure that you'll be spending a long time in jail." I rolled my eyes and typed out the address as she finally released it. Nevertheless, I understood her plight. She couldn't just trust anybody as her boss' safety was paramount. We thanked her and I hung up.
Rose revved the engine in Fast and Furious mode.
"Ready?" she asked.
"I was born ready, baby!" I replied with a smile.
Yet fear lurked in the depths of my heart and as we moved, all I could do was pray we weren't too late.