The Jailbird Episode 5 and 6
by Aaron Ansah-Agyeman
Episode 5
Junior, weeping uncontrollably, takes faltering steps after the sedan, making his shattered mother reach out for him.
“My Prince,” Effe whispers sadly. “Please, don’t!”
Junior shies away from her, his gaze fierce and accusing, and then he runs past her into the house.
Steve bends and picks up the expensive golden watch he has given Junior as a birthday gift, which the boy has discarded like a live snake in his urge to put on that cheap toy watch from his father.
Steve’s jaw tightens with fury as he pushes the watch into his pocket.
“Ungrateful stupid little imp!” he says savagely under his breath.
Effe runs after her son.
People quickly step out of her way as she rushes through the compound and into the crowded living room. She sees Junior rushing up the stairs, and it is evident he is going to his room. Effe’s father, a distinguished-looking gentleman in his late sixties, wearing well-tailored white African gear, quickly puts his drink down on a tray and hurries toward his daughter. He can see even from across the room that she is extremely agitated.
Effe’s mother, Ivy, also approaches from the other side of the room where she has been chatting with members of her social group. She is a beautiful slender woman, well-groomed and as graceful as a gazelle.
“My love, what’s wrong with Junior?” Ken Kedem asks his daughter in a worried voice. “He was practically weeping as he went upstairs. What has upset him so?”
Effe sways for a moment, still feeling breathless and light-hearted from the sudden appearance of Chris Bawa on the scene.
“It’s Chris, Dad,” she says breathlessly. “He came around.”
Her parents exchange quick looks, and their faces express their stunned disbelief.
“What?” Ivy asks hoarsely. “Chris? You mean Chris Bawa?”
“Yes, Mom,” Effe replies miserably. “He was outside just a few minutes ago.”
Ken Kedem shakes his head with incomprehension.
“I don’t understand this…Chris? He’s supposed to be in prison, isn’t he? So where’s he now? Still outside?”
It is Effe’s turn to shake her head, and she still looks dazed.
“No, Dad. The police picked him up. They took him away.”
Ivy clasps her hands to her cheeks, and she looks horrified.
“Goodness me! Did he escape from prison?”
“I don’t know, Mom,” Effe says, clearly agitated now. “My guess is that he did. Excuse me for a moment, please. He was with Junior, and the boy got really upset. I’ve to attend to him. Will be with you soon.”
Effe leaves them and rushes up the stairs after her son.
Again, Ken and Ivy Kedem exchange horrified looks.
Ken, a retired High Court judge, takes out his phone, searches through his phonebook contacts, selects a name and dials.
He puts the phone to his ear and listens for a while, and then he speaks in a rush.
“Hello, Fii. How are you, my brother? Happy New year to you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Hope you’re doing well.”
He laughs at something the man at the other end says, and then he rubs his brow and speaks earnestly.
“Oh, yes, yes, they’re all doing fine, thank you. Listen, Fii. I’ve just been told Chris Bawa came around my daughter’s house, but he was taken away by the police again. Did he escape from prison? Are you in a position to enlighten me on that?”
Some of the guests are looking at him anxiously, and he realizes that Chris’ little drama has created quite a little furore in the general scheme of things.
Eventually, Ken says goodbye and ends the call.
“What did he say, dear?” Ivy Kedem asks anxiously. “Did Chris break out of prison?”
“No, no, love,” Ken replies, looking a little bit flustered. “Seems he benefited from the President’s Christmas pardons. He was recommended by the review committee for good behaviour and for exhibiting a positive change, whatever that means. Got something to do with his public persona as a former national GojuFist champion too, I’m quite sure. So he was pardoned. Chris Bawa is a free man.”
“Goodness me!” Ivy cries hoarsely, horrified. “This can’t be! Not at a time when my daughter is so close to finding happiness again! Why didn’t that boy just die in prison?”
“Hush, Ivy!” Ken, a just man, says sharply. “What’s gotten into you? You’re a Christian and a mother, remember that. Don’t you dare wish ill for a fellow human. Effe is a big girl, you know, and she has a perfectly sensible head between her shoulders. She can handle her own affairs pretty well by herself!”
Effe enters her son’s room and sees Junior lying on his bed, still in his clothes and shoes. He is curled up in the fetal position, and his shoulders are heaving with his heavy tears. Effe sighs deeply and looks around the room with unseeing eyes, marshalling her thoughts and looking for the right words to console her son.
Around the walls of the room are framed photos of a far younger Junior and his father, photos taken at various stages of the boy’s life, from when he was a newborn baby to his fifth birthday.
Memories of him and his father!
In almost all the pictures Chris is holding his son closely and with incredible happiness on his handsome face, a face that holds that radiant smile of his, the smile that always dimples his cheeks and used to fill Effe’s heart with such indescribable joy.
She had tried to take down those photos several times, but Junior’s tantrums on each occasion had finally made her leave them untouched, and she had acquiesced and allowed them to be on the walls.
Effe now walks forward slowly and sits down beside him. She reaches for him, and although he stiffens at first and refuses to be drawn into her embrace, she doesn’t give up, and eventually, he relaxes and moves into her arms.
“My prince,” she says tenderly. “I know you’re very upset, but you have to be brave for me, okay? Remember our motto for the year? Perseverance, Junior. In any painful condition we persevere to conquer, and we never ever give up!”
He puts his hands on her shoulders and leans back to peer into her face with huge, sad eyes.
“I miss my daddy,” he says in a despaired voice. “Don’t send him back to prison, Mommy, please.”
Much against her will, Effe feels the first sting of tears in her own eyes.
“Hush, my prince. I didn’t send him to prison. You’ll see him again, I promise.
“Really, Mommy?” he asks pitifully. “You really, really, really, promise? This time you’ll let me visit daddy in prison?”
Effe’s face is tortured. Her eyes are haunted, and for a moment she does not know what to say, but just then the door opens and her father walks in. He shuts the door gently and stands looking at them with uncertainty.
“I called the Chaplain at the James Fort Prison, my dear,” he says at length. “He informed me that Chris didn’t escape from prison. He was set free, Ef, dear.”
Mother and son stare at him with varying expressions. Whilst there is sudden and unbridled ecstasy and joy on the face of the boy, the woman’s face fall into abysmal depths of dismay.
“Really, really, really, Grandpop?” Junior shouts excitedly, bounding out of his mother’s arms and rushing to grasp the older man’s hands, his face almost splintering apart with sheer happiness. “Daddy is really, really, really free? They’re not sending him to prison again?”
Ken tussles the boy’s hair and smiles down at him gently.
“No, Junior. He’s free now.”
The boy gives a screech of happiness and tears out of the room, shouting with extreme and profound joy.
Effe stands up dazedly and faces her father. There is pain and torture on her face.
“Is it true, Dad?” she asks in a stunned voice.
“Yes, my love. He benefitted from a full presidential pardon. Good behaviour, changed attitude, former national hero, and a lot of other positives were cited, so yes, he’s free.”
Effe, once again, feels dizzy, and her whole body seems to shiver slightly. She reaches out desperately and supports herself by grabbing the bedpost, and then she slowly sinks down on the bed.
“He’s changed, Dad,” she murmurs in an unsteady voice. “Physically. They did something to him. He couldn’t have changed that drastically in just five years. All that plumpness, that body fat, it’s all gone. He looked muscular, and meaner, and his eyes, Dad! I can’t forget that look in his eyes when the cops told him I took a restraining order against him.”
“You did what? When? Why?” Ken exclaims, shocked.
“Five years ago, Dad, when he was taken away! I did it to ease some of the pain, I think, because I was so shattered, hurt and angry! Truth is, I forgot all about it, and only remembered it today when those cops mentioned it. At that time, I positively hated him, Dad. But I’m really sorry he found out today. It killed him, Dad, it killed him.” Effe replies, tears slowly forming in her eyes.
Without a word, Ken sits down on the bed beside his daughter and puts a comforting arm across her shoulders.
“Look, pumpkin, what Chris did was awful, yes, and now he’s got a criminal record, yes. But he never physically hurt you, or Junior, dear. And you know he’s incapable of doing anything to hurt any of you, physically, that is. I know he betrayed your love and trust, and he hurt you badly in the process, but your son adores him and loves him unconditionally. I also know that Chris loves his son unconditionally.”
“Oh, Dad, yes, Junior loves that man so much! Too much, I daresay, for his own good! He’s always fought me for not taking him to visit his father in prison. You would’ve thought that for someone that young he should’ve been able to move on, and let the memory of his father be a faded picture, but not Junior. God knows I’ve tried to take that away from –”
“Effe, my darling, you don’t want to say that again,” Ken says gently, his voice holding mild reproach. “I never had a son, true, and I’ve not had any regrets because you two girls are wonderful. But, I do know for a fact that if I had been blessed with a son, I wouldn’t be happy to see anyone trying to break our bond. You simply can’t break the ties between a father and his son. Who knows, maybe through that love, Chris can be a better man.”
“Chris will never change, Dad!” Effe hisses passionately, her beautiful face a tortured mask of pain. “I gave him my heart and my soul, my time, my breath, my all! He had all the chances to change, but he never did. He didn’t even try! That’s why I can never forgive him. I hate him to the very core of my soul!”
“Well, fair enough,” Ken says sadly. “But don’t try to keep him away from his son. Tomorrow, if you can – and I’m hoping you can – go and cancel that restraining order.”
Episode 6
Ken Kedem runs a hand down her hair for a moment, pats her back and stands up. He sighs heavily as he sees just how frail and vulnerable she looks. Without another word, he turns for the door.
“Dad?”
At the sound of her forlorn voice, he stops and turns.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Where did they take him?” she asks without looking at him. “Where would they take him?”
“Well, it’s too late now to arraign him before a judge,” Ken Kedem says thoughtfully. “Under normal circumstances, any police chief can let him go and report in the morning, but I don’t think they’re going to do that in Chris’ case. I’m certain they would book him and lock him up for the night at the Central Police Station, and arraign him tomorrow.”
“But he didn’t know about it, Dad,” she whispers in a despaired voice.
“Didn’t know what?”
“That there was a restraining order against him. He was so shattered.”
“Well, how do you know about that!” the elderly man says with a scowl. “Well, if he didn’t know it means he was not served. Not knowing about it doesn’t absolve him completely from the offence, as you well know. But this one is different. The cops should use it as an opportunity to serve him and let him go, but I doubt they’ll do that. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get Joshua Darkwa to look into it and see to it that Chris is released right away.”
Effe sighs tremulously.
“Thank you, Dad. Please do that for me. I would be very grateful. I don’t want him to spend his first night out of jail in a police cell because of me.”
Her father nods and leaves the room quickly, closing it gently behind him. He is convinced that his daughter needs a little time alone. When the door closes Effe stands up and walks to the window. She remains standing for a while and then the hot tears finally spill down her face. She tries but she cannot blot out the image of Chris’ shattered expression when he learned about the restraining order.
She also remembers seeing that he was still wearing his wedding ring although he knew she had filed for and received a divorce five years previously. He had refused to sign the divorce documents when they were presented to him in prison on several occasions by their family lawyer, Joshua Darkwa.
Effe places her hand on the glass pane of the window and leans her forehead slowly on its cold surface.
“Damn you, Chris!” she whispers, her lips shaking. “Why now? Dear sweet Lord, why now, Chris?”
***
It is late, time for Junior to sleep after a hectic and furiously emotional birthday play date.
He emerges from the bathroom in his blue pyjamas designed with images from the BEN 10 cartoon franchise. Effe pulls back the sheet of the bed for him and he gets into bed. He curls up on his right side and she draws the spread over him. She notices that he is still wearing the wristwatch his father has given him.
“Honey, aren’t you taking off the watch?” Effe asks carefully.
“I want to sleep with it, Mommy.” He replies, his voice soft and muffled.
Effe hesitates for a moment as she considers asking him to take it off, and then she sighs and decides to overlook it. She kisses him on the forehead and then she reaches out and presses the dangling switch above the bed. The bright light goes off and when she presses the switch a second time, the soft-shaded blue bulb comes on.
“Good night then, honey,” she says gently. “May angels continue to guard you.”
He makes no reply, and again Effe hesitates. She sighs and stands up, then walks toward the door. She stops abruptly when she hears his muffled voice.
She is concerned and alarmed instantly, fearing that he is crying, and she hurries back to his bed. She notices, however, that his hands are clasped and he is saying a prayer.
“…and thank you, Lord God, for bringing my daddy back. Take care of him and please, please, pleaaaase God, don’t send him to prison again. Guard over mommy, guard over daddy, and guard over me and all grandpas and grandmas. Amen.”
“Amen,” Effe responds, her voice unsteady. “Goodnight, honey.”
“Nighty-night, Mommy,” he says, and it is not with his usual contented verve, and once again Effe is worried.
She turns to the door again, but then his little voice arrests her.
“Mommy, the Social Studies teacher once said that people are taken to prison because of the bad things they do to other people.”
Effe tenses, and for a moment she is lost for words. She turns and sits down on the bed and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, that’s about right, prince,” she says carefully.
She knows there will be more and she waits patiently for the catch.
“So if people come back from prison it means they’re free from the bad things they did that sent them to prison, isn’t it?”
And there it is: the catch.
She chooses her words carefully.
“I know where you’re headed with this, honey. But it’s late, and it has been a very busy and tiring day for both of us. So, here’s the deal; you rest for me. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I promise we will have a long talk about this subject, alright?”
Junior clamps his lower lip between his teeth and even in the dim light Effe can see how pained his expression is.
“But Daddy is back! You told me he did some bad things and they locked him up. But he’s back now, and that means he’s no longer bad, as the Social Studies teacher said. Why didn’t you allow him to stay with us then, Mommy? Why do you still want to marry Uncle Steve?”
It is Effe’s turn to bite her lower lip as she rubs her son’s arm gently. She purses her lips for a moment and then sighs. She knows she is on a precipice, and she has to tread very, very cautiously.
“Do you remember how that favourite cup of yours got broken? The Ben 10 cup?” she asks softly.
“Yes, Mommy, I remember,” he says with a slight pucker between his brow as he concentrates fully on her words.
“Do you remember how you were so unhappy about it and how Grandpa helped you fix it all back again with the glue gun? Afterwards, when you poured water into that cup it leaked all over, and you really couldn’t use it again?”
“Yes, Mommy, I remember.” Junior supplies, nodding once.
“My dearest prince, sometimes life is like that. No matter how well you fix something, sometimes it never really gets to be the way it used to be. That’s what happened to Daddy and me, honey. Believe me, we’ve tried really hard to get everything back to where it was and be happy again but it just couldn’t be the same.”
Junior flips on his back and regards her with huge eyes brimming with the beginning of tears.
“Mommy!” he begins in his all-knowing voice. “I think the problem with fixing that cup was that we used the wrong stuff. I mean the glue! Grandpa told me that if we had clay, we could have fixed the cup with it, and heated it and it would’ve been as good as new. I think if we use the proper things to fix the bad things, it can be just like the way it used to be.”
“What are you talking about, Junior?” she asks, almost exasperated, quite angry with herself to realize that her defences are springing up again when Chris is on the discussion table.
“Maybe the two of you didn’t use the right stuff to fix the bad thing between you. Maybe you also use clay instead of glue! Think about it, Mommy. You should really, really, really think about it,” he says, and his voice is both agitated and desperate.
Effe is stumped for words. She has not expected that, and once again, like it sometimes does, his sudden wit and thrust in the argument leave her wondering how unbelievably mature and brilliant he sounds.
She sits for a long time just looking at him and rubbing his arm, and a moment later he drifts off into sleep. Effe gets up after a while longer and walks out quietly, closing the door behind her.
Then, she descends to the living room where Elaine and Steve are waiting, both holding tall glasses of wine on ice. Steve drains his cup and carefully puts down the glass, and then he approaches her with a worried expression on his face.
“You look stressed, darling,” he mutters gently. “Is Junior alright?”
Effe laughs shakily and tosses her hair off her face.
“It’s funny, you know,” she says listlessly. “You always think of them as babies, as little tots you need to protect. And then, suddenly, they just say something that makes you wonder if some adult has been feeding them with something different than fairy tales.”
“He wants you with his father, doesn’t he?” Steve says as he takes her in his arms and smiles wanly.
Effe laughs shakily and puts a hand on Steve’s chest.
“He didn’t talk about you, my love. But yes, he wants his father.”
Elaine snorts and shakes her head, evidently boiling with fury and seeking the tiniest of sparks to erupt.
“Well, ain’t that a tad unbelievable?” she says, ejecting her words like little bullets. “After all that you’ve done for that boy, he still prefers his sorry ass of a father to you? Jeez!”
Effe, frowning darkly, leaves the circle of Steve’s arms and fixes her dark gaze on her best friend. She sounds a little angry when she speaks.
“He’s a kid, Elly! He remembers the good times he had with his father! Granted, Chris turned out to be a damn bad peach, but as a father, he was the best! Don’t blame the little boy for loving him!”
“And don’t blame me for hating Chris either, Effe!” Elaine faces her friend with a blazing look of her own. “Chris Bawa raped me, do you understand that? He raped me, your best friend and your maid of honour! So, don’t you dare stand there and blame me for hating him!”
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