SAMIRA
My goodness! For the past three days, every moment had felt like a whirlwind, tossing me back and forth with an overwhelming effect. Gee! Since Chiké had confessed his ailment to me, it had been from one discovery to another. Nonetheless, the most shocking of all had been Harriet's and Chiké's uncle's acts of cruelty.
They were purely the most heartless of all people!
Damn!
I had been motionless the entire time they admitted their misdeeds. And worst of all, it wasn't a nightmare, it was real!
I thought about the amount of suffering Chiké had endured; losing his parents and slowly losing his own life. I also couldn't believe he had been poisoned daily, for the past two years. So all the heart aches, the cough, the weakness of his entire body, the blood, unconsciousness, and near death had been caused by human beings, malicious enough to kill him just so they could take over what was never theirs in the first place. That was the absolute worst that could happen to anyone on earth!
After the FBI and other authorities had come and undergone further investigation, we were left alone. Well, Alexa had stayed for about an hour until her alarm reminding her to get back to work, chimed. She needed to secure a deal that all of them, including Chiké, had been working on for the past two weeks. However, as a result of his need for recovery, the job was placed in her care. Despite the people who betrayed Chiké, I was thankful for her. She was among the few persons Chiké could trust right now. Those were his words!
I spent the entire day with him, comforting him because I could clearly see the signs of depression heading his way. He had experienced a handful in his life. There were minutes in between that I'd hold his hands and pray for him. Other times we discussed anything and everything. Of course we steered clear of any topic that would make him over think. Over thinking was out of the question as it could disrupt his entire recovery and well being.
Day two, Rose stopped by with some fresh clothes and books for me along with a complaint from my boss that I had been taking my job with little zeal and that if care wasn't taken, I would be fired. Ugh! It was all too much to handle. Before she left, we sat down at the visitors' hall where I narrated all that transpired the day before. She was just as mesmerized as I was. She made a comment that she wished she had been present as she had never witnessed a crime/confession scene.
By lunch time after she had gone home, Chiké, through his driver, gave me his credit card to sneak out to get some real food, not the banal and tasteless hospital meal. His driver, Phillip, drove me around the nearest restaurant to get me food. On the way, I told him to take a detour, driving over to José Huncho's Restaurant where I got three servings of Hunchos with grilled beef sauce and salad toppings. Right after making sure I placed the receipt in the take home bags, I offered one bag to Phillip to show my gratitude for the ride. He was beyond thrilled!
Feeling fly and enthusiastic over the reaction I'd get from Chiké for the lunch I had gotten, I hopped mirthfully into the hospital, extra careful in hiding the contents of my bag from the staff. I walked into the room, raised my bag and screamed "Ta-da!" in complete exhilaration but all Chiké did was look at me with a frown. The speed and energy I used in lifting the bag was the same I used in putting it down.
I sagged further into the room and caught sight of a man, quite smallish in stature, of Asian heritage, all dressed in a wine coloured sweater, a pair of jeans and loafers. He too looked at me in a certain way. Disappointment, shame, disbelief? I couldn't fathom.
"Hey, I brought you lunch. Look, its Hunchos, your newest favourite food!" placing the bag in Chiké's face, I did the 'hmm, yummy' sound, while rubbing my belly. My expectation was cut short when he turned, facing the other side of the bed.
"What's wrong?" I questioned, looking between both men. The stranger stood, cleaned his palm on his shirt, stretched it forward to me for a handshake.
"Hi, I'm Stan Chu!" I took his hands in a firm handshake. His name sounded familiar. On cue, he said "I am his Private Investigator. Perhaps he has mentioned me once or twice, I hope?" he continued in an effort to be funny.
Oh! The Private Investigator Chiké mentioned yesterday. The one he hired to find out my whereabouts.
"Oh yes, he has! It's nice to finally put a face to the name." I replied with a friendly smile. I turned to Chiké but he remained silent and standoffish.
"What has gotten your pants or should I say hospital gown, in a twist?" I laughed at my silly joke, poking fun at him. He didn't react the way I expected. As a matter of fact, when I touched him, I got the worst treatment ever.
"Please, get your hands off me!" Woah! My hands curled back in rejection. What had I done wrong? I glanced at Stan, hoping he'd explain Chiké's sudden change of character.
"Will you sit down, Miss?" he motioned to a sofa nearby. I looked at the side of the bed. On a normal day, Chiké would suggest I sat right there, next to him. This time, he didn't. This was much serious than I thought!
"Okay." I conceded, settling down on the sofa looking around the room for the first time. It was a rather spacious and convenient room.
"I love getting straight to the point, Miss. So here it goes." Stan began and I straightened. "In the early hours of the morning yesterday, your best friend sent Mr McAdams an email containing details of an orphanage of which needed assistance, am I right?" he asked.
I replied, "Yes, you are." wondering where exactly he was heading to.
"In that email, she explained that the orphanage is in need of two hundred thousand Canadian dollars." Wow, that was a lot of money, I thought.
"Well, Mr McAdams asked me to look into it, to know its validity and I did. I just dropped by to let him know that everything about the so called orphanage is a sham!" he continued, crossing his legs.
WHAT THE...
"I didn't quite catch that. Please come again." I just hoped my ears were deceiving me.
"The orphanage doesn't exist! Every detail about it is false; from the name to the address, to the need for financial assistance. In summary, your friend was only trying to dupe Mr McAdams."
"What? No, Rose would never do that! I've only known her for a few months and she has never ever attempted to swindle or deceive me or anyone else in any way." I quickly rose to her defense. She was my best friend, I had every right to vouch for her.
"Stan is never wrong! He's the best at what he does. If he says your best friend is guilty, then she is!" Chiké contradicted my words, speaking up for the first time.
"But..." I wanted to say more but didn't know where to start from.
"Maybe you should go talk to her. You might be surprised by the actual truth." Stan suggested, staring at me with pity.
"And when you go, don't return!" Chiké bellowed, throwing me off guard. I turned to him immediately, totally speechless.
"Wh-What, Why?" I stuttered.
"Because I'm fully certain you knew about this. You all but coaxed me into the orphanage topic. You're best friends for crying out loud, you cooked up this fraud together!" there was so much venom present in his voice.
I had been accused of numerous things in life; an illegal immigrant, a Miss goody too shoes, an unsuccessful model with a crappy apartment, but never had I been accused of fraud. This was the first time and it hurt so bad, especially because it came from him.
"I would never partake in anything that devalues my reputation. I have had my share of ups and downs but I've never had a reason to covet another's property. That's the last thing I'd ever do."
"I would never partake in anything that devalues my reputation, blah blah blah..." he mimicked mockingly. "If you could stay in a country for years after your visa had expired, running away from the police at every chance, is fraud not another thing you'd be capable of doing?"
I could feel my walls breaking and my eyes heavy.
"That's a low blow, coming from you!" he had the nerve to insult me based on what I had been through? That was so poor of him.l! No matter how angry I got, I would never use another's past to prove a point.
"Please leave!" he ordered. I wondered why he added 'please' into the command. That word had lost its effect.
"Oh God! Why have the people I hold dear to me chosen to ruin me? What did I do to deserve this? First, my Uncle and Chef, now, you and Rose? Implausible!" he scoffed. I could hear the hurt in his words but talking to me that way was unfair.
"Ever since we met, I have never wanted you for your money or possessions. I am not materialistic! My parents didn't raise me to desire people's possessions so much so that I'd devise dubious ways to dupe them." I said in self defense.
"Just go, please. Get out!" he exploded real anger. "If I had known you'd do this to me, I never would have been interested in—" he bellowed, however, I snapped at him.
"Do not finish that sentence!" I deadpanned, already knowing what he was going to say. He never would have been interested in me. "Don't say what you'd end up regretting for the rest of your life!" I added, rising to my feet.
"I'll leave as you've asked me to but know this Chiké; Since we met, I have not for once, decided to hurt you in any way. I care about you deeply and that's the truth, believe it or not. Tell your freaking Investigator right here," I gestured at Stan who raised his hands in defense. "Tell him to investigate my innocence in the matter, since he is always right!" in anger, I tossed him his credit card, grabbed the rest of my stuff and walked out of the room, proud of myself for defending my innocence.
I had exited with my head up high in bravery. Why then did the sudden need to cry, fill my heart as I got into the elevator?
****************
I pounded on the door with my hands curled into fists, my body seething with rage.
"Whoever you are, if you break my door, I'm going to—" her words fell short as soon as she opened the door and found me out here, eyes red and strength drained.
"Sam, what happened? Don't tell me, is he dead?" she gasped at her own words fearing bad news for someone who had accused us both of fraud.
"No, he's not! He's much better! Can I come in?" I was already in the living room before I asked.
"You're already in but yes, you can." I rolled my eyes at her response and sat on the couch, staring at the muted TV.
"Would you tell me what's going on? Stop scaring me, Sam!" she joined me on the couch and took my hand, a gesture I would have appreciated in a different circumstance.
"I want to ask you something that requires you to answer Yes or No. You can give me the details but let your first response be either in the affirmative or in the negative, all right?" I replied with a question.
"Yikes! I'm getting scared but all right." she nodded.
"The orphanage you mentioned to Chiké, does it truly exist?" her eyes widened but she made no move to answer.
"Answer me, Rose. Is it real or was it all a means to defraud him?" I repeated sternly this time around.
No response.
"TELL ME HE LIED WHEN HE ACCUSED US BOTH OF FRAUD. ROSE, TELL ME IT ISN'T TRUE!!!" since we became acquainted I had never raised my voice at her but now, I did. A waterfall slid down my eyes. I tasted the saltiness of it and hated how terrible the day had turned out.
"I had no choice!" Hurray! She finally responded. I had never been more ashamed for defending the guilty with so much confidence like I had done for her back at the hospital.
"What? I defended you back there! You were the subject of indictment but I told them 'no, my best friend wouldn't do that ' little did I know that I was standing up for the guilty. Right now, I am so ashamed of you." My words caused her to sit on the cold floor, hold her heads in her hands and wail. On a normal day, I'd feel like a bully for my choice of words, however, right now, a part of me believed she deserved my harsh words.
"I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I had no choice, Sam." she pleaded in tears.
"Why did you do it, Rose? Did you think you could swindle two hundred thousand dollars and disappear into thin air? You never suspected you'd get caught? For Pete's sake, didn't it ring in your brain that you were dealing with a billionaire so powerful, he'd throw you into prison for a considerable number of years, huh? Answer me!" I hollered at her, causing her to fold up on the floor.
Maybe, I was going overboard! I realized my words were causing more damage than good. I deliberated on a different tactic. I made a mental message of the acronym THINK which stood for True, Honest, Inspiring, Nurturing and Kind. Psychologists propounded the theory to always think before talking during conflicts in order to state one's facts but in a way that was kind and would resolve the issue rather than aggravate it. Taking a minute to relax and blow off some steam, I whispered,
"Please tell me why you did it. You know you can count on me?" I placed a hand on her back. She flinched a tad and in seconds, I felt her at ease, welcoming my touch.
"Believe me when I say that was my last resort." she unfolded herself and sat upright.
"I have a set of twins!" oh the shock of her words. "Two boys who are five years old. They live with my grandparents in Ontario. My children are about to start preparatory school this fall and I have nothing significant to give to them. My grandparents are already weak and old, taking care of them is a hard task, not to talk about providing their necessities. I love my boys so much and I would do anything for them. Do you know how badly it hurts them knowing their momma can't provide? She can't even go see them anytime soon so as to avoid questions that would break her heart." she referred to herself. Her words were a heartbreak for me as well.
"For the past year and half, I've done every job available just so I could gather enough to send to my kids. But, ugh! I've only managed to save up three thousand dollars. That's not even up to a quarter of the overall sum of money I need to give my kids a better life and pay off all the debts since they were born." her case was similar to mine. I badly needed enough money to send to my parents and siblings. The pressure to fulfill my duties as the eldest child was alarming!
"What about their father, isn't he doing anything to help?" I asked the logical question I could think of. Somehow, I knew Malcolm wasn't the father even though he was her lover.
"He left me for another woman a year after the twins were born. Last I heard, they had moved to Northern Ireland to start a new family." she answered, deep in thoughts.
"Chiké was my last option. I felt he was too rich to give a rat about two hundred thousand dollars being deducted from his fat bank account. " For the first time, she had called him by his real name, not her usual nicknames. If our discussion was a different, more playful conversation, I'd have teased her about it.
She had a point! Still, it wasn't her money to give or take from.
"Every dime in his fat bank account belongs to him! You should have just asked him plainly instead. I'm sure he would have given you. I told you he was in a resolution of giving. Your case wouldn't have been a problem." I pondered out loud. She sat deep in thoughts.
"Yeah you're right. Silly me, I was too desperate to think straight. He would have done something! After all, he liberally gifted Malcolm that classic truck!" we both laughed at the truth.
"Too bad he doesn't want to have anything to do with either of us anymore." my response caused her to snap her head in my direction and I shrugged. "He thought we had both betrayed him. I clearly understand where he's coming from though, seeing how he'd been betrayed by the people he called family."
She jumped at me somewhere along the line, hugging me, almost cracking my bones.
"Oh Sam, I'm so sorry, honey! I made you lose your man. Please find it in your heart to forgive me." rather than her hug acting as a source of suffocation as I expected, they actually felt ticklish. Now I understood why she often found it funny whenever I hugged her this way. I giggled, finding it hard to concentrate.
"You're tittering, does this mean I'm forgiven?" She asked, still hugging me. I shrugged in answer.
"Well, I guess so. There's truly nothing I can change about it all. I just wish you'd told me this a long time ago." I responded much later.
"I know. That was my mistake! I just believed you'd look down on me if I told you about my kids." her tone was hushed, abashed.
"Rose, you're my best friend. Best friends tell each other secrets and the beauty of it is that they don't judge each other. I would never judge you." I answered, hoping I was convincing enough.
"I'm so sorry! I'm just terribly sorry for everything." she had resumed crying again. I crushed her to me, whispering that everything was all right.
All too soon, she began to laugh. I released her, wondering the reason behind her laughter.
"Why are your hugs always ticklish?" she asked and I rolled my eyes.
"Will you spend the rest of the day here? We could do lots of things. Watch RomComs, have a karaoke session, sip margaritas all night long, play Checkers, go clubbing, or anything else. Whatever you want!" her suggestion sounded better than spending the day all alone, wallowing in misery.
"Heck, yeah! Count me in." I replied with a thumbs up and then we high-fived.
"Let me go make some lemonade for us, I'm thirsty!" she stood up to go into the kitchen. I looked around her house, and chuckled at her apartment. It was as crappy as mine, yet she always acted like hers was Paradise. Rose, my silly best friend!
It felt fulfilling and mature to forgive her that easily. I just knew that I had no time for grudges.
I felt my phone ping from the breast pocket of my jean jacket. I brought it out, turning it on immediately. Staring back at me was an email from Dior, the designer brand.
Dear Samira,
We loved the pictures you sent to us, they were very vintage and chic! We would like to offer you the job of a National Model, channelling and influencing our brand in major cities across Canada.
If you are interested, please reply this message so the contract can be drafted as soon as possible.
Cheers,
The Dior Team.
Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God! Somebody pinch me!
I couldn't tell the exact moment when I screamed because Rose dashed into the living room, asking what was making me act all crazy. Rather than answering, I showed her the email, waiting for her reaction. She went through it, stared at me incredulously once she was done. In seconds, she was screaming alongside me.
As we made nonstop loud noises, I remembered my Dad and what he had told me the last time I called him,
"Don't give up, my child! I believe in you! It will all work out for the better sooner than you expect!"
Oh Dad, you were right!
****************
CHIKÉ
"You know that was quite harsh, how you spoke to her." Stan who was still in the room, reproved my approach at dismissing her.
I said nothing.
"You and I both know that she's innocent! You were just looking for a way to push her away, taking the easy way out." his comment got my attention and I turned to him.
"What do you mean?" I frowned at him, bewildered by his words.
"You love her and you're scared she'd turn out to be just like your uncle and Harriet. So, sending her away was your easiest shot." He answered with an all-knowing expression.
I mulled over his statement, eighty percent of my mind agreed to what he said while the other twenty believed it was all untrue.
"You may or may not be right, Stan. I've been through so much. Damn! Yesterday's incident was beyond my wildest imagination. I feel like my entire life has been a lie. I've lost so much and I feel so drained. I don't know who to trust anymore. Everything seems so overwhelming!" I expressed my worst fears. If I was given the chance to start all over, I'd never know where to start from.
"I know, Sir. I surely understand how you feel. I went into this business of investigation in relation to all I passed through when my wife cheated on me with another man and both wanted me out of the way so they could take ownership of the duplex and fancy car I had gotten from my hard work as a lawyer. I felt devastated! If I couldn't trust my wife, who then could I trust?" he had never told me this before. What was it about this week? Everyone seemed to have one confession or the other.
"I'm sorry man. Life sucks!" we had extremely suffered, we couldn't be blamed if we had trust issues.
"But I still believe your lady is innocent. I saw the way she adored you as she got into the room with that bag." he pointed at the bag she had brought in, containing our lunch. "There was no pretense that she genuinely cares about you."
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had not eaten anything for lunch. My pride got the best of me, I made no move to check the contents of the bag.
"If you don't want to eat, then I guess I will. Your ego can satisfy that hunger of yours." he grabbed the bag where she had placed it and took out its contents. Against my will, my mouth salivated as my brain registered the kind of food she had gotten. They were indeed my newest favourite. I jumped out of the bed and took the bag from his grasp, looking at him like he was about to steal my joy.
"Don't look at me like that! She bought two so I'm gonna have one." he reprimanded. My mood swung in thought that she had gotten lunch for herself and I, yet I had driven her away.
"Wipe that depressing look off your face and eat! Take your time to recover and when you're discharged go meet her and apologize." he advised. "Hmm this tastes so delicious! What is this?" he continued, staring at the hunchos like it was prepared by the Roman gods.
I bit into mine, digesting the advice he had given.
Okay, I'd apologize as soon as I was out of this hospital. I just hoped she'd find it in her to listen and forgive me.