Love Hates…

AARON ANSAH-AGYEMAN

LOVE HATES

A CHRISEFFE BLISS

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The Author

EPISODE 11

 

Fatima stared at Chris with a devastated look on her face, and the tears that fell down her face looked like silvery diamonds in the darkness, lighted by the faint lights from the floodlights.

“So, I meant nothing to you, right?” she whispered painfully. “You just came into my life as part of an operation to catch a kidnapper, and now that I’m no more required, you will move on, as if nothing happened! You’ve hurt me badly, Chris! How could you trod on my feelings like this? Oh, qalbi, you’ve broken my heart!”

“You were a means to an end before I met you, Fatima,” Chris said levelly. “But I tell you this, my days with you have been the happiest moments of my life this past year, because after I met you, the assignment was never more important than you, habibati.”

 

“You lie!” Fatima cried passionately. “You lie, Chris Bawa.”

He looked at her grimly.

“That is an insult, habibati,” he said softly.

The girl’s eyes searched his face frantically in the dim lights, and then she wiped tears from her eyes savagely.

“Don’t make me hate you too as she does, Chris,” she whispered softly. “Do not pretend with me! Goodbye!”

She turned abruptly, her voice ending on a sob, and began to walk away quickly. She stopped suddenly when she had taken about ten paces, and then she turned around and ran toward him.

Chris opened his arms and Fatima flew into them.

 

“Oh, qalbi!” she whispered passionately, her body shaking as she linked her arms around his neck.

When their lips met in a savage kiss, Effe turned away sharply, amazed at the flash of vivid memory that skimmed across her mind’s eye.

Yes, indeed, she had pushed it far away from her subconscious in an effort to forget, but she could still feel the heat of his kisses on her lips, his passionate kisses that she could not flee from. Kisses that always made her forget that she hated him, and made her crave for more!

“I believe you, qalbi,” Fatima whispered as she stepped back.

“I’m glad,” Chris said in a gentle voice. “I’m glad. Let me hear your roar in Khoms, habibati.”

Fatima frowned and giggled.

 

“You don’t get rid of me that easily, Ghanaian!” she said as she turned away. “Three months, Chrissy…I expect to see you! Goodbye, Effe. Don’t have nightmares of Khalid’s monster!”

Effe giggled in spite of herself.

Fatima was so lovely and so vibrant that she could not find it within her to dislike her.

“All the best, Fatima,” she said as the lithe girl fled into the darkness.

Chris opened the back door of the sedan and slipped inside.

Effe went around the car and opened the back door.

When she sat in, the driver started the engine. There was another man in the front passenger seat holding a rifle. A moment later, the sedan pulled away.

Effe sank gratefully into the seat, and then she turned halfway and looked at Chris. His head was thrown back against the headrest and his eyes were shut.

 

“Chris,” she murmured softly.

“Shelve it, Effe,” he said coldly. “Ain’t in no mood for your crap.”

“Chris, stop it for a moment, please!” she cried desperately. “I just want to thank you for what you did for me tonight. That Khalid man…he was going to do bad things to me. I thank you for saving me, Chris! I’m very grateful.”

“Didn’t do it for you, girl,” he said softly. “I did it for Fatima, and all those other poor people.”

“You mean you wouldn’t have come after me if it had only been me?” she asked, shocked at the pain that ripped through her heart.

“Nope!” he murmured softly. “You’re a liar, Effe Kedem, or Mabel, or whatever the fuck you call yourself. We’ll get to Tunisia early in the morning, and I want you to go your way and leave me the fuck alone!”

She sighed dejectedly and turned away from him.

“Alright, if that’s the way you want it,” she murmured unhappily, her voice pained.

“Exactly the way I want it, you bloody witch!” he said harshly. “Exactly the way I want it.”

 

Effe turned her face away from him and did not say anything more. There was no doubt about it now; he really hated her to death, and could not stand to be with her for a second longer.

There were so many things she wanted to talk about, to explain to him and to know from him, but she knew he was in no mood to talk to her. His fury and painful words were really hurting her in a way she had not expected it to be, and she just hoped she could be able to control herself and stay away from him until they parted in Tunisia.

And so, she sat beside him like a total stranger for the hour-long ride, and she hurt every second of the way. He fell asleep though, eventually, obviously tired by the frenetic action of the night.

The movements of the car made his head slip and bop constantly in his sleep. Afraid that he might hurt his neck, she moved to the middle of the seat, and slowly his head came down on her shoulder.

 

He sighed in his sleep, and his arm fell across her waist as he unconsciously arranged himself comfortably around her. She could smell his aftershave; the same one he had used so many years ago. Trembling, she lifted a hand and put it gently across his arm, and then she was assailed by a strong blast of déjà vu as they rode along.

How many times had he not slept like this in the past with his head on her shoulder, her tummy, her arm? With his arm around her, gently clutching one of her breasts? Had she really hated him that much? If she had felt only hate and dislike for him, why was she remembering it so well now? Why was she missing it so much?

Effe pushed to the side a little at a time, and his head slid lower. Gradually, when she was far enough to the door of the car, she eased his head on to her arms. Chris, tired and worn out, turn his head into the comfortable nestle of her breasts, and his arm encircled her.

 

His face was so close as he breathed gently, and for one wild moment Effe felt the uncomfortable urge to lower her lips on his, and then she gasped and threw back her head against the headrest.

God, what was happening to her?

Why should she be this much affected by a man who had nothing but absolute hatred for her?

But she held him gently, and it pleased her to provide him with a comfortable shoulder for his sleep.

Finally, the car emerged on the main highway, and a moment later swung to the side of the road where she saw the trucks parked. She saw the other men running toward the car, and a moment later the doors opened on each side.

 

“Effe!” Wailer cried with sudden feeling. “Oh, thank God, thank God!”

Chris came awake as Wachipa took his arm and tried to drag him out.

Chris looked around him with drowsy surprise, and found himself in Effe’s arms. He raised himself, and as he did so his face was directly opposite to hers, and he looked into her beautiful eyes.

The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He looked at the interior lights of the car dancing in her eyes, and then his eyes rested on her lips, those sweet lips that had driven him crazy many years ago, those arms that he always longed to feel around him.

He screamed at himself silently:

Get a grip on yourself, Bawa!

 

He pushed himself off her.

“I slept on you,” he whispered softly. “Did I hurt you?”

Effe could not speak because the intense moment they had shared, when everything had seemed to recede, when they had seemed to be the only two people in the world, had still left her breathless.

“No, Chris, you didn’t hurt me,” she whispered tenderly. “Your big head never hurts me when you sleep on me.”

For one brief moment he appeared startled, and a vulnerable look passed across his handsome features, but then he sat up fully and nodded.

“Thanks for helping me sleep, Effe,” he said softly. “I needed that.”

 

He opened the door of the car quickly and stepped out, and his friends swept him with fierce embraces.

As they hugged him, Effe watched him, and could still feel his arm around her waist, and his head on her breasts.

Her lips trembled, and at that point in time she was assailed with a sadness so strong that the tears suddenly fell down her cheeks slowly. Wailer helped her out of the car and then hugged her and patted her back gently, thinking the traumatic events were now shattering her.

But it was not that, no.

Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, she was wishing things had turned out differently eight years ago, that maybe there could have been a better way to handle the situation than her young, passionate and impulsive heart had accepted that time.

***

Chris got into his truck and drove first on to the highway this time around, catching Effe by surprise.

Above all else she had wanted to ride with him and force him to talk about what had happened between them eight years ago, but it seemed he was still determined to let the painful memories simmer between them.

The other men were so thankful and relieved to have her back, and she felt warmed by their care. She rode with Mike again because he would not have it anyway else. They continued their journey on the Toll Road until they came to the toll booth, and they passed through.

 

They were stopped briefly at the Tunisian border by the border police and immigration officials who evidently knew the men. And they stayed for a while as the trucks were perfunctorily checked, and finally allowed to pass through into Tunisia.

Almost forty minutes later they came to the town of Ben Gardane where Mike turned off the highway and travelled for about ten minutes then made a turn through the second exit of a roundabout and shortly came to a large flat area where a lot of trucks were parked.

The intercom cackled and Wachipa’s voice came through.

 

“Why are we stopping here?” he asked quietly. “Thought we decided to skirt Gardane and stop at Garbes.”

“You’re right, buddy,” Wailer said, and his voice sounded worried over the intercom. “Told Chris we gotta lob it to at least Medinine, but he wouldn’t have it. Claimed tiredness but we all know why he wants to stop here.”

“Shit,” Wachipa said tightly, and then he immediately came back. “Sorry, Effe. Forgive my language.”

“It’s okay, Wachipa,” Effe said with a little smile.

“Shayma is in town, isn’t she?” Wachipa asked with an edge in his voice.

“Why else would we stop in this goddamn place if she ain’t?” Wailer shot back almost furiously. “Hey, Chris, you there?”

 

“His signal light is off, buddy. He’s parked, and he’s out,” Mike Crankson said. “I can see him outside, folks.”

“What’s going on here?” Wachipa asked, his voice highly-strung. “If Shayma is back then it means only one thing! Hazem is back too. This is one bad idea to stop over! Hazem warned us not to stop over here again, ever! My God, how on earth could Chris be so damn overbearing? We’re only courting deep trouble by stopping here!”

Mike Crankson sighed heavily.

“Last I heard, Hazem moved to South Africa to milk them dry of some money,” Crankson said softly. “Let’s make it a brief stop then move out. We can also get a car for Effe for Tunis from here. For her sake, guys, let’s stop for a while.”

 

“What is happening?” Effe asked Mike with concern. “What’s this Shayma and Hazem business all about?”

He smiled at her reassuringly.

“Don’t worry your head too much over it, Effe,” he said gently. “Shayma is a woman whose father owned a lovely spread of land here which he had turned into a sort of large trading post. Hazem is the usual bad nut, the riffraff garbage you find in many thriving towns…the local mafia, you can say.

He wanted the land, you know, to turn it into a gambling hub to facilitate his money-laundering activities. The land is strategically placed. Shayma’s father refused to sell the land, but Hazem let some clandestine friends lend the man some money that eventually became a huge debt.”

Effe nodded.

 

“And Chris paid it off?” she asked softly.

Mike shook his head.

“That would’ve been easy, wouldn’t it?” he said softly. “No, of course not. Hazem is a gambler, you know, and he challenged the man to a fighting duel. We happened to pass through that day. Shayma’s father was almost beaten to death, but he was staying in the fight because if he lost the land would pass to Hazem. So, Chris came in and bought the debt.

You can do that in the competition, you know. You can offer to buy off a debt, and now it was Chris that owed Hazem, and he had to fight Hazem’s man. They didn’t know Chris was that strong, and he defeated that poor bastard and, boom, the debt was paid. Hazem was livid, and he warned Chris never to pass through here again.”

 

“And of course, Shayma expressed her gratitude to Chris in a nice way, didn’t she?” Effe asked bitterly, and Mike looked at her strangely.

“They became friends, yes, maybe a little more than friends,” he said. “She left for Algeria to study. All this happened last year. Hazem left here and went to South Africa. We’ve managed to stay away from here for a while.”

“But you’re here now,” Effe said coldly. “Obviously, Shayma is back, and wants to have her little fun, huh?”

Again, Mike looked at her strangely.

“No,” he said. “Her father died four months ago, and we just heard about it. That man became a good friend to Chris, you know. They liked and respected each other a lot. So, I think Chris came here to pay his final respects.”

 

“Goodness!” Effe cried, contrite. “Was he murdered?”

“No, had a stroke,” Mike said. “We’re just here to commiserate with her. Come, I’ll get you a car to Tunis. You must set off early. About seven and a half hours’ drive from here to Tunis.”

The name of the post was Sublime Bliss.

It had a huge Arabic title, and below that was its English translation.

They had a main supermarket, a restaurant, clothes store, a gymnasium, an office hub and other incredible sections.

Mike led Effe to the Transport section where a lot of beautiful yellow and black sedans were parked.

 

“You can charter a ride from here,” he said with a smile. “Smooth and wonderful, the drivers are well-known here and absolutely dependable. You’ll get to Tunis in no time.”

Wachipa and Wailer had come around too, and they all hugged her fondly.

“Just a short time knowing you, Effe, but damn, I’m gonna miss you,” Wailer said with a broad smile, looking more like a pirate that early morning with his eye-patch.

“Been a scary, wonderful ride, no?” Wachipa said as he hugged her. “Will miss you, lady.”

Touched, Effe nodded and fought back the tears.

“I’ll never forget you guys,” she said.

 

“We’ll be over at the restaurant to get some breakfast,” Mike said fondly. “You can join us, you know, for some ten minutes.”

Effe shook her head quaveringly.

“I don’t feel hungry,” she said ruefully. “A real shower will do, but maybe I can wait till I get to Tunis. Thank you very much.”

They went into the office where Mike helped her to charter a car, and Mike insisted on paying.

She thanked him and hugged them again, and then watched them moving away with mixed feelings.

 

Chris had not come along to bid her goodbye although he knew she was leaving. Evidently, he could not wait to see her gone, and maybe he was even now enjoying some attention from the mysterious Shayma, and had not given Effe even a fleeting thought.

And it hurt Effe…it hurt her a whole lot!

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