by Aaron Ansah-Agyeman

Chris is sitting on the edge of the bed.

Effe is sitting behind the small glass-topped desk she uses for late-night edits.

Chris has just finished telling her the most horrifying story ever, and she is shivering. She is so scared. She realizes just how close she and Junior had come to losing him again, and Darlett’s death gives credence to the magnitude of the horror.

She is so horrified that she can barely breathe.  She stares at the dark, violent, troubled man who is full of passion, and who is so lost in this world. A man who is deeply hated by his own family from a very tender age and forced to fight his own battles, and who is still fighting his battles.

Effe stands up and walks slowly to him. She sees that there are traces of tears in his eyes from the grieving of his soul over Darlett’s final sacrifice. Of course, he is like that. He is the kind of man who will cry for a man who had wanted to kill him, and in the end, made the ultimate sacrifice for him. Darlett might have been a loathsome man, a man with no scruples who will sell his mother’s soul to save his own, but in the end, Darlett Thompson had been a true friend.

“Chris, Chris, Chris! Why do these things happen to you? Why are you always in some kind of trouble? I guess your problem is that you trust too much and the people you trust betray you. Darlett died so that we can be happy, my love. He gave up his life for you to live a free man. Oh Chris, I’ve never gotten over you. I was very hurt when you betrayed me like that. You made me a lot of promises and then you broke them almost simultaneously. I was hurt. I was deeply broken. I told myself I wouldn’t let you hurt me again. The only way I knew how was to cut you off completely. I believed in the ‘out of sight out of love’ crap but there wasn’t one single day that passed without me thinking about you. I was so lost without you. I felt I failed as a wife. I felt I didn’t make you happy enough that was why all those bad things happened. I sought answers but you gave me none. When I saw you and Elaine naked, that broke my back. That was the last straw, Chris.”

She is in obvious anguish, and her tears fall on his clamped hands and burn him as if they are coals of fire. He knows she is laying her soul bare, bringing out the festering poison that has locked her heart out. He reaches out and places his hands on her waist.

He draws her forward and nestles his face in her belly.

She is trembling. She puts her hands on his shoulders.

“And then three months after your incarceration, when I couldn’t take the pain of missing you anymore, I came to see you. The officers told me you were very dangerous and not allowed visitors. I argued with them and when they saw I was knowledgeable in the law, they told me I had to strip down for a search. I knew it was wrong, but I did it just to get a chance to see you, but when I was in my bra and panties, they started to laugh and demanded that I take everything off, but I couldn’t do it. I felt so humiliated by their lewd remarks and gestures and ran almost naked to my car. I told myself I was never going back to that prison. I know it’s no excuse, and that I should’ve tried harder especially because I was a lawyer, but afterwards my bitterness took over because my heart was bleeding, and I just wanted to be free from that torment. I’m so sorry, Chris-Love. Please forgive me.”

Chris looks up at her, and then he encircles her waist with his arms, and his face is still pressed into her belly.

“I’m so sorry, my Princess, for that harrowing experience you went through. I’m sure Cuger was behind that. He wanted to break my spirit, and he knew one way of achieving that was to make me believe you abandoned me. Let’s move on from the past. I’m here now. I only survived in that prison because of you. I wanted to see you again even if you were with another man.”

She traces her hands on his lips and gazes deeply into his eyes.

“Make me yours again, Chris-Love! Missed you soooo much. I’ve hungered for your aura, for your halo. Your Cupid’s Bow has never left my heart!”

He raises his head and pulls her closer. He has missed her so much.

He thirsts for her.

She’s his air!

She caresses his head and presses herself closer to him. She runs her fingers on his naked shoulders, and runs tender fingers down on the terrible wounds on his back, feeling his pain. It all makes perfect sense now.

Cuger has never forgiven Chris for taking out his eye, and in prison, the policeman had made sure that Chris went through the worst of experiences, and she had made it worse by staying away. She is sure that Cuger is part of this evil plan to kill Chris or get him back to prison.

She is afraid of Cuger lifting fingerprints of Chris from the scene and from the police sedan and implicating Chris. She plans of scaring Cuger, maybe with the threat that she has the Darlett confession tapes, but that can wait.

Now is not the time to be scared.

This moment, right here, is the time for living.

The moment to live.

With her man.

The only man.

She bends and kisses him, gently pushing him onto the bed. She pulls away moments later and walks slowly to the door and locks it. She turns slowly and faces him.

“Put on the lights, my Angel, I want to see you. I want to see every tiny inch of your body. I have been starved of you,” Chris says tenderly.

Effe remembers.

She has never forgotten. He always wanted to see her, and she always wanted to see the love on his face as he made passionate sweet love to her. She is so emotional as she switches on the lights, feeling so sentimental that tears fill her eyes. Chris walks to her and presses her to the door with a kiss that makes them both gasp for air when they manage to pull apart.

She drops the morning robe on the floor.

Chris pushes his hand through the negligee and touches her breasts, elongating her nipples, and sending shivers of pleasure through her. Effe feels hot, so hot with desire, and runs her hand gently up his erection, making him moan with a guttural explosion of pleasure. He pulls her negligee off in one quick sweep.

He stops for a brief moment to stare at her with a hunger so strong and fierce that it makes the deepest hearts of hell pale to luxurious bliss, and then he lifts her and crushes her against his chest in a sweet torture of a kiss. Chris pulls her bra off with a simple click of the hooks and slowly peels off her panties. She knows how much he loves seeing her from behind, how her exquisite shape always takes his breath away. She turns to him slowly, her hands on her breasts, her nipples hard, and she sees that he is fully erect, his eyes are half-shut, and he is panting with desire.

She feels the slight throb in her loins, the desire trickling down her inner thighs. He lifts her and carries her to the bed, his lips blazing a scorching path down her throat. He puts her gently on the bed.

Without a word, he turns and goes to the bathroom while she lies breathless. He returns after a while with a white towel around his waist. Walking slowly towards her, she marvels at how incredibly handsome he is. He suddenly swings her into his arms and, kissing her, carries her to the bathroom. Time stops, and it feels like Effe’s heart will burst with happiness as she surrenders herself to him.

He puts her in the Jacuzzi, and she feels the sweet lukewarm water over her body, made heavenly by the soaps and fragrant lotions he has added. She closes her eyes and moans as he gently bathes her, his hands whispering all over her body, his fingers filled with fire and ice. Her body has never known such pleasure. She cries silently, filled with a love so powerful, a desire so strong, that she wishes time will never move again.

His sweet hands love her body from her face to her toes. He drains the soapy water and cleans her with fresh lukewarm water. He lifts her up, sets her on the drying patch, picks a towel, and gently dries her body, pausing to kiss her lips, her ears, her eyelids, her throat, her neck, her nipples…

He dries her body and kneels down to dry her legs. His tongue finds her navel and travels down sensuously and rests on the juncture of her thighs. She moans and trembles as his tongue works on her, and she reaches furiously for him, but he steps out of her reach. He carries her to the bed, takes a gentle body splash, and gently massages her, lingering on her core zones, driving her so crazy that she is in a permanent fissure of volcanic pleasure.

Time and again she reaches for him, moan for him, but he stays maddeningly out of reach.

She is simply leaking!

He leaves her, and she moans with frustration, but he smiles lovingly and goes to the bathroom.  He returns a few minutes later and stands looking down at her with his face filled with a love so deep, an adoration so perfect, a craving so hot, a need so insatiable and a worship so flawless that her tears fall gently as the power of the moment grips her relentlessly.

“If you don’t make love to me now, I’ll die, or I’ll kill you, Chris-Love,” she whispers passionately.

He drops the towel, his face filled with adoration.

“Effe…my angel. My breath. My life!” Chris groans.

When he drops beside her, their kiss is as fierce as the exotic depths of the most powerful volcano.  She turns him on his back and straddles him.

Chris groans deeply.

A moan she is so familiar with.

A moan which means he cannot take it anymore.

A moan which means he is ready. She takes him and guides him slowly inside her warm sweetness. He gasps, and his hands come up to cup her breasts, his thumbs elongating her excited nipples. She falls forward, her lips seeking his violently, desperately. They fall into the old rhythm as if they have never been apart. She moans and gasps as wave after wave of pleasure engulfs her. He is panting, his arms around her, going down her waist, rubbing sensuously across her thighs, coming up to grasp her beautiful buttocks, caressing her, loving her, killing her with love.

His lips blaze a sweet song along her throat, her ears and on her lips.

“Oh, oh, oh… Chris-Love!” Effe whispers.

She moves in a frenzy on him, racing towards that climax.

“Oh, Ah, oh Loorrrd! Slow down, Angel! Missed you so much! I don’t wanna explode now… make it last! I don’t want it to stop!” Chris groans with passion.

“I … can’t stop! Oh, Chris-Love! Don’t stop! Don’t … stop!! Push me, Chris-Love, push me haaaaarrrrd!!! Love you. Love you! Love you! Don’t stop Chris! I want all of you. I want you bad!” Effe moans.

They grasp each other tightly, as if for survival, and they both reach the penultimate, and their muffled screams are evidence of the incredible volcanic explosion ripping them apart!

Screams of love starved, of passion repressed, of basic bestial craving throttled…for far too long!

It is love…in its purest form!

It is fight night.

The arena has never been this packed.

It is packed to the rafters!

Every single seat is taken.

It is a sold-out event, hyped by the media, and loved by the country. Live-streaming to all major cities in Africa, the fight has been dubbed ‘Rumble of the Titans’. The VIP Lounge is full, and Eyram, sitting with Rupert, can barely breathe.

Effe is not at the VIP Lounge this time. She is at the ringside with her father, who is beaming from ear to ear. She sat through four under-card fights, two of which had ended early, and two of which had gone the distance.

Her fear is great as she remembers the dream Junior had.

Her father holds her hand and shouts to be heard above the din.

“Relax, dear. Chris is the best,” Ken says with a flushed face, obviously enjoying himself greatly. “He’s going to whip that arrogant little bastard, you trust my words.”

Effe smiles and nods nervously.

The canvas is being dry-cleaned by two attendants using fluffy mops.

Rupert puts a hand under Eyram’s chin and turns her strained face to his. He bends and kisses her gently. She opens her lips and kisses him back, and then she sits back with a smile.

Rupert leans back and pops a gum into his mouth, and he is happy that she had at least kissed him in public so tenderly.

Eyram is very nervous, unknown to Rupert.

Her heart is in turmoil.

She is aware that Effe and Chris have almost found a way back to each other, and she knows that definitely, after the fight, they would vow and commit to each other once again. Many thoughts have been flying through her mind for almost a week now.

The prime thought is to accept Rupert, marry him, and try her best to love him and get Chris out of her blood forever.

Way up in the VIP Lounge Afful sits with Elaine, and then a man drops into the empty seat by his side, and he turns and looks into Steve’s tortured face.

“You were with Micky?” Afful asks.

“Yeah,” Steve replies grimly. “Told him to kill Chris.”

“Ain’t no way Micky can kill Chris, you moron,” Afful says with disgust. “You want to fight for Effe, fight like a man. Don’t expect anybody to do your dirty work for you.”

Elaine turns and looks at them with very angry eyes.

 

“Effe and Chris are getting back together, aren’t they?” she asks fiercely.

“She’s your friend, darling. You should know.”

“She says nothing to me anymore. She just wants to speak to Steve. She’s a great disappointment to me, to say the least,” Elaine says with something approaching shock in her voice.

Steve sighs miserably and looks into space morosely.

“I regret ever befriending that bastard in school. But you know what? Effe is the only woman for me,” Steve says with a huge sigh. “The only woman. And I know she will eventually come to see that. Chris is a bomb in her life. He will explode again, and she will come running back to me. Just wait and see.”

“You pathetic old fool. I wonder why you waited so long anyway,” Afful says with a giggle. “You had five years, man, five good years and you couldn’t marry or bang her. If you want her, this is the time to fight for her, or she will be gone forever!”

The lights suddenly dim, and then, for the very first time in many years, the sound of Bob Marley’s “Crazy Baldheads” bashes through the speakers of the arena, and a mighty roar goes up!

It is the signature tune for Chris “The Darling Boy” Bawa.

The giant television screens around the arena are suddenly filled with the knockout moves of Chris in past fights. And then the blue lights of the Challenger’s Entrance light up, and Junior appears, dressed up in all black… black jeans, black combats and a black hoodie with a peaked cap.

On his chest are the words, in gold, “The Darling Team.”

Junior is smiling, and then Wailer Vroom comes out too, dressed in a similar style, and then as they begin to walk forward Chris appears in the doorway, and a noise, the sound of the Atlantic Ocean shakes the arena.

That sound decibel has never been heard, and will probably never be heard in the arena again. He is dressed in only black shorts with gold side trimmings and black fighting shoes. His hands are encased in black and gold GojuFist gloves.

Placards shoot into the sky. Fans yell and applaud. Sitting in the VIP and watching, Elaine fumes with anger. It seems that the boy is no longer the Beast.

Suddenly, he has become a hero!

As Chris walks forward, his son takes his hand, and together they walk towards the ring. When he passes the stationed camera beaming his movements on the giant screens, the camera angle swivels, pans and settles on his chest, biceps and spectacular rips.

The hirsute torso is a sexy sight that sends many a female into peals of delight. And then, as he passes, the camera pans again and settles on his back. That is when, one by one, people stop shouting and screaming.

The image of his mutilated back – cut, stripped, whipped, ironed, tortured – filled the screens for every eye to see. The sight shocks even Afful, who does a double-take and leans forward. Elaine gasps and clamps her hands to her face.

“Jesus! Who did that to him?” Elaine asks with genuine horror.

She is not the only one who is horrified.

There is absolute silence in the arena as the agony he might have gone through to have such a tortured back strikes through the hearts of the crowd. Dan Cuger, watching the fight in the Officers’ Lounge at the police station, suddenly feels the horrified eyes of the cops coming to rest on him as Bawa’s mutilated back fills the 21-inch coloured television they are watching. He grinds his teeth savagely as it suddenly dawns on him that maybe he had gone too far.

This is the most terrible advert ever of his misdeeds and extreme atrocities. He knows the Commander will see it, and many other people in high places will see the scars. Bawa had not gone to prison with such a back. Dan Cuger knows that an investigation will surely come up over this.

The Commander of JAMES FORT PRISON, MR. DANIEL MIMAOSE, is almost asleep when his wife, sitting on the bed and trying to read and watch the fight on the small bedroom television, suddenly shakes him awake.

“Danny, Danny, wake up, wake up!”

The Commander sits up groggily.

“What, what? Has the fight started?”

“Look at his back! Look at Chris’ back!” his wife cries in an unstable voice. “What did you people do to him?”

The Commander squints at the television, and his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“My good gracious!” he breathes with shock.

He is shivering with shock as he fumbles for his phone and dials.

“Hello, sir?” Jon Fii answers.

“My good gracious! Fii, are you watching the fight?”

“Yes, Danny, I am.”

“What is this I’m seeing? What happened to Bawa? Was it in my prison?”

“Yes, Danny. I spoke to you once, about my suspicions that the resident police officer, Dan Cuger, and some prison officers are torturing him. I think Cuger denied it,” Jon Fii says softly.

“My good gracious! I want a report first thing Monday. I’m setting up a committee to investigate this. You’re the Chairman. Report to me in a week!”

“Yes, sir. It will be done,” Jon replies somberly.

Inside the arena, the red lights of the ‘Champion’s Entrance’ lights up, and the screens are filled with images of Mike ‘The Crankboss’ Crankson. His entourage comes out, all of them dressed in white.

 

Then a huge rapper comes out rapping the signature tune of The Cranksboss, Kicking Butt. He is followed by four women wearing only tiny white skirts and halter tops and knee-length white boots. Crankson emerges, as usual, in white shorts, white fighting shoes, white gloves and a white hoodie. He is gyrating and prancing around with his eyes wild and his tongue out, his usual style, but today there are no ecstatic applause and screams from the crowd.

There are mainly boos and a few scattered applauses.

Nana Bosomtwum is walking rapidly behind his boy. Once they enter the ring Crankson executes a beautiful mid-air flip and lands in a fighting stance, drawing cursory applause from his fans.

Chris’ dark eyes are riveted on Crankson. He is standing still and barely moves as the Ghana National Anthem is played. He barely hears anything else until the ring announcer calls the credits.

“And now, introducing the Challenger, fighting for the first time in more than a decade, the former undefeated Grandmaster of GojuFist, forty-three fights, no loss, no draw, thirty-nine knockouts, undefeated champion in five different weight classes, ten successful defences of the ultimate Grandmaster belt….the fearsome, the handsome, the one and only Chris, the Daaaaaaaaarling Boooooooy Bawa!” the Ring Announcer bellows.

The noise levels almost lift the rooftops, the screams continue, the placards wave.

The Ring Announcer preens, lifts the microphone and continues.

“And now, the Champion, the current Grandmaster of GojuFist, the finest, the coolest, the undisputed master, fighting out of the red corner, proud record of fifty-fights, forty knockouts, no loss, no draw, the most terrible of bosses, eleven defences of the Grandmaster belt, Mike, the boss of bosses, the Crankboooossss Craaaaaaaannnksoooon!”

This time there is much more appreciable screaming, applauding and shouting!

“Now, Ladies and Gentleman, prepare your eyes, don’t twitch, don’t blink, this is the Rumble of the Titans, the Capo de tutti Capi, boss of bosses, who is who, the amaga of amagas, who reigns supreme today when two gods clash? Let’s get ready to cruuuuuushh some heaaaaaaaads!”

Crazy sounds! Trumpets, screams, applause, yells!

“And now, your able referee, Laryea Odamten!”

Referee Odamten calls the fighters to the centre of the ring.

The two fighters stand face to face. Crankson is tall, but a breadth shorter than Chris, but Chris is a bigger man, his muscles and rips finer developed.

“I want a clean fight, trust,” the referee says with a bland expression. “Engage when I say, break when I say, trust. Defend yourselves at all times, trust. Don’t let me come and get you, trust. Mr. Bawa, Mr. Crankson, bump gloves…we’re set to roll, trust.”

Chris holds up his gloved fists, and Crankson crashes his fists on them.

People leave the ring now, and very soon the two men are alone, and the referee is in the middle. Wailer Vroom stands outside the ring and speaks to Chris.

“Go get him, Tiger.”

Junior reaches inside the ropes and hugs his father’s thigh tightly.

There are tears in his eyes.

“I’m very scared, Daddy. I don’t want you to die,” he wails pitifully.

Chris looks down at his son and smiles tenderly.

“Champ, I’ll finish this quickly and we can all go home, okay?” he says calmly.

Junior nods, and then he goes and sits down at the Trainer’s Rest with Wailer Vroom.

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