Day 17 of 45 Days
45 Days
© Aaron Ansah-Agyeman
Steve Hollison stops his car in front of the Love Bed Hotel.
The hotel is located in an obscure part of Weija, and because of its remote access, many people, especially adulterous men and women, patronized it a lot.
Steve blows the car’s horn once. A moment later, the black gates are opened by a huge man with a thick beard. The man is wearing black trousers and a white shirt.
He is called Abdul Adams, and he is the Manager.
Steve drives through to the spacious car park.
There are other cars parked. He gets out, uses the remote to lock the doors, and then walks hurriedly to the reception. Abdul is waiting for him. He smiles broadly.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hollison.
“Afternoon, Abdul. How’re you?”
He hands some money to Abdul.
“Fine o, boss. I beg, Madam no fit come today?”
“She stopped to buy some things. She would be here soon.”
“Yes sah, massa.”
Abdul leads Steve to a room. Steve goes into the bathroom as Abdul switches on the television and the air-conditioner.
“Show Madam the room when she comes.”
“Yes sah, massa. I beg, you go need anything else?”
“No. You have water in the fridge, right?”
“Yes sah, massa.”
“That’ll be all for now then, Abdul. Thanks.”
Abdul leaves the room. Steve strips down to his boxers and singlet and lies on the bed. The room is comfortable, but not luxurious. He sighs, crosses his legs at the ankles and waits impatiently. Abdul is busily entering data in a Ledger Book when the doorbell dings.
He gets up hurriedly and rushes out to the gates.
He opens the smaller gate on the side of the main gates and looks out, expecting to see Mr. Hollison’s date, but instead, Chris stands at the gate. Chris’ taxi is parked along the narrow path. Abdul sees that there’s Elastoplast over Chris’ right eye. Abdul smiles happily and hugs Chris tightly.
“That be my Iron Fist of Weija! Cha, how be you?”
Chris grimaces and smiles through.
“I dey well, bro. Just a little sore. That crazy Chinaman knocked me bad.”
“But you kill am, man. You be the best,” Abdul says with a chuckle. “See, all the people dey respect you now roff! But cha, thanks for your help man! If eno be you that crazy Chinese go break me like some glass doll!”
The two friends laugh loudly as they enter the yard. They move to the reception area and sit down. Chris hands Abdul a little packet. Abdul opens it and whoops with great joy. The packet contains a lot of money in fifty-cedi notes.
“Your cut, man,” Chris says gently.
“But na I dey think Mrs. Simpson take all the money to pay off my debt!”
“Yeah, I bet on myself too, double the amount. So, she get some, and I got more because e be like no bra bet on me.”
Abdul whoops with unbridled delight.
“Whooooooo! Sucker punch! You kill dem! You be the Boss! Now Mrs. Simpson go know what’s up! E pain am dread! Ei, women, because you refuse to sleep plus am e go bring that mad Chinese Kung Fu man to kill you and me. Cha, the way you blow am I sure sey by now e still dey hospital!”
They laugh again, and then Chris leans forward and speaks in a serious voice.
“Abdul, you be my paddy. We get plenty history between us. That’s a lot of money, bro. E go fit cater for you very well if you invest am wisely, bro. You can use it to complete your cold store thing. If you gamble with that too, then it’s your own soup, man. I’m out now. I no go fight or arm-wrestle again.”
Abdul looks at his friend with equally serious eyes. He shakes his head, touches his beard, and leans forward too.
“I get you, bro. I no go go there again. Ebe over for me too. What make you decide to stop? That shoddy who come pick you that night?”
“Screw you, rasta! She no be shoddy,” Chris says with a laugh.
Abdul stares at his friend, his eyes wide with shock.
“Dayummmmn! The real deal? You fall for am?”
“I swear, bro. I no know what happen, but I fall for am hard! Too hard. I love am dread.”
“Wetin be e name sef … Effe, right? Cha, she fine pass all shoddies I ever see! Damn! Never thought any kala go fit make you go gaga like this! Dayummmmmn!”
“She be special, bro. Apart from sey ebe beautiful, brilliant and rich, cha … she be humble, kind, loving, angel, angel, angel! I don’t know how e happen but cha, I wan spend the rest of my life plus am.”
Abdul screams again and smacks his thighs.
“Dayuuummmmn! Solid! You bang am already?”
Chris laughs loudly and punches his friend on the shoulder.
“You mad, you better respect. Make you no yob shit about am like that. She be my Precious Angel, you know!”
They are still laughing when the doorbell dings again.
“That go be Mrs. Hollison. Excuse me, I dey go send am to e husbie.”
At the mention of Mrs. Hollison Chris’ heart misses a beat.
He scowls darkly as sudden pain flashes on his face. He imagines Effe walking into the hotel room. Surely it isn’t her! Surely, she can’t do that to him, although basically they’re still just friends. He stands up, still with a pained look on his face. He can hear a woman’s voice now. He parts the curtains a bit and peeks into the reception area. The smartly-dressed woman following Abdul towards a room in the bend is not Effe.
Chris grips the curtains with deep shock.
“Oh, my dear Lord!”
He knows the woman.
In fact, she is a white lady.
A white South African lady.
A woman who was introduced to him at the Eden Hospital. She is Mrs. Barbara Henderson, the wife of Rupert Henderson, the South African paediatrician at Eden Hospital!
What is she doing at a hideout like the Love Bed Hotel? Why did Abdul refer to her as Mrs. Hollison? Abdul returns a few minutes later. He is smiling broadly.
“Cha, you dey feel for some goat light soup? Wifey prepare some. Make we go blow!”
“You say that woman dey come here plus e husbi?”
“Who? The white woman? You see am? She get big ass dread! I never see white lady with ass like that before. Oyibo Obolo Ikebe Super, hehehe! Yeah, them dey come here most Wednesday nights come blow blow them body. They go lef in three hours.”
“And her husbie? He be white man too?”
“White for the where? Ebe black man. E name be Steve Hollison. Them start dey come here keep long.”
Chris is shocked. He shakes his head numbly. So, Steve had been unfaithful not only with Elaine, but he is also sleeping with Mrs. Henderson!
Poor Effe! Poor Rupert!
“I know the guy, bro. But I go love see am fiili!”
Abdul looks at him sharply.
“Trouble?”
“Nope. Cool. I just wan see am!”
Abdul smiles.
“That means for the next three hours you go keep me company. Cool. Make we go blow the goat soup first. I hungry dread!”
“Okay, bro. But I no dey like the goat balls, kwasia (fool)! The last time your irresponsible wife put the goat balls for my soup inside. I dey resemble person who dey chew goat balls?”
They laugh hard and leave the reception. Abdul instructs one of the boys to take over, and then they go away to eat.
Three and a half hours later, Chris hears voices, and he parts the curtains slowly.
Steve Hollison and Barbara Henderson are moving down the corridor! Steve’s arm is draped around Barbara’s shoulders. He drops his hand and squeezes her ample buttocks, and she squeals with mock anger. He takes her arm, draws her close, and they kiss deeply. They move out, and Abdul follows them out.
Chris sits down slowly in a chair in shock. “Oh, Charley! E hard o!”
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