The days after that heartwarming experience passed rather quickly, and the patient became stronger each day.

After almost two months he was healed well and began to trek to the bush and back with Kobby but quite unfortunately his memory still eluded him, and he did not remember anything about his previous life.

One evening, Kobby and Kuukuwaa were pounding fufu in the yard with Opanyin Amoah and his wife sitting nearby, resting in their reclining chairs.

Zack fetched water from the well and took it to the bathroom, and then he headed towards the toilet.

Kobby stopped pounding the fufu, looked at Zack and laughed, shaking his head with secret mirth.

Kuukuwaa looked at him, a tad exasperated.

She did not like the way Kobby had been picking on Zack, even though the man in question did not appear to mind and sometimes even joined Kobby in poking fun at himself.

“And what is tickling your silly little ribs, brother?” she asked frostily.

Kobby did not pay any heed to her but looked over at his parents.

“Zack is scared of the toilet, are you aware?” he asked with a snicker. “He doesn’t spend more than one minute in there. He enters, squats, releases the first bomb, and then he will quickly come out!”

“Don’t be silly, Kobby!” Obaapa said with a laugh.

“You watch!” Kobby said, laughing. “Just wait and watch him!”

Zack entered the toilet and closed the door behind him.

Less than three minutes later he came out again and paused, obviously with unease.

Kobby and the two adults laughed, but Kuukuwaa did not. If anything, she felt resentful towards her family.

Zack headed for the bathroom.

“Zack! Come here a minute, young man,” Opanyin Amoah called him.

Zack looked across at them, and then he walked towards them slowly.

Kuukuwaa looked at him, and as usual, her heart thumped a bit.

The last few weeks had been filled with exhilarating sweetness as she became aware that there was something really sweet and powerful building up between her and this stranger.

None of them had been bold enough to take that final lunge after that sweet dawn when they had shared body warmth, but she knew that soon, very soon, they would not be able to run from the savage sweet storm buffeting them.

“Here I am, Opanyin.”

“Kobby tells me you seem to be afraid of the toilet!” Opanyin said, suppressing a laugh. “And that you scarcely spend more than a couple of minutes in there.”

Once again, the others laughed, and Zack smiled ruefully as he looked at Kuukuwaa whose head was bent.

“Well, quite truthfully, he is right,” Zack said softly.

“You’re afraid of the toilet?” Obaapa asked, still laughing.

“For real!” Zack replied as he also laughed softly.

“But why, son? It is quite sturdy, you know, one of the best in the whole village!” the Medicine Man proclaimed.

Zack looked almost uncomfortable as he stared at Kuukuwaa, who smiled at him now, finding his current unease quite appealing. He looked like a lost boy, and for a moment she wanted to stand up and hold him.

“Listen, you have a really huge rectangular hole, and you have laid vertical planks of wood across it, and you call it a toilet?” Zack asked carefully.

Now they all laughed at him, quite uproariously, except Kuukuwaa whose smile just got broader.

“Oh, Zack! That’s the toilet we have in the village!” Obaapa said. “How do you want us to build our toilet?”

“So, you remember some other toilet, yes?” Kobby asked as he tried to stop laughing. “The one in the city which looks like a rice bowl, the one that water gushes inside like the sea? You remember that one and yet you say you’ve lost your mind!”

“You idiot! I’ve lost my memory, not my mind,” Zack said with a smile. “But seriously, this is scary! Look, the wood can be eaten by worms, and might break, spilling you into that sludge.”

“The wood is treated, Zack,” Opanyin said gently. “The agricultural extension officers treated mine. Worms cannot eat them. Moreover, the spaces between them are too small for a person to fall through. So, you’re safe, my friend.”

“But…but, come on, sir, no offence meant, but the place stinks! And, worse of all, you have to squat, I mean squat, on the wood and gauge the space well otherwise…”

This time even Kuukuwaa laughed, making Zack’s discomfiture even worse.

“You foolish boy! Every shit stinks!” Kobby said, laughing hard. “Everybody’s shit stinks, even white people! Yours is worse! The other time when you flatulated inside your room I thought maybe you fell into the toilet. And as for squatting, well, you can choose to sit on the wood, or stand, but you’ll get messed up, no doubt. And even Kuukuwaa won’t clean any shit from your body if you choose to stand and do your business.”

Zack scratched his head, and then he smiled as he looked at Opanyin Amoah. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I can design a better toilet, one you won’t squat. One you won’t smell any bad odour.”

They all stopped laughing and stared at him.

Opanyin Amoah removed his pipe and looked closely at Zack for a long time.

“Surely, that is impossible,” he said.

“No, it is not. I’ll show you how it is done.”

He turned and walked quickly to the room he now occupied, and came back later with a small school art book, one he had taken from Kuukuwaa almost a week previously and knelt by the Medicine Man’s reclining chair.

“This seems interesting. Kuukuwaa, hold the pestle for me,” Kobby said as he hurried over to Zack’s side and peered over his shoulder.

“Alright. Here, I made these illustrations,” Zack began.

Kobby whistled, impressed when Zack opened the sketchbook. He had made very beautiful and clear sketches using red, blue and black pens.

Opanyin Amoah suddenly looked up at the young man’s face, which was set in concentration, and there was a look of admiration on the older man’s face.

“That is quite impressive, young man. But I’m illiterate, and so I just see nice pictures,” he said.

“Look, we don’t need much, sir. We make the hole deep, alright?” Zack began. “Then, we build a cemented platform over it. The centre here will be a raised seat, and we can design that with wood or cement. Here is what it will look like. This next sketch shows a construction of a roof over it, and then at the back here we will stick a long plastic tube into it, to carry the scent out and away. We will leave two windows on each side. Now you can sit comfortably and do your business, rain or shine, and not worry about scents or worms.”

They were so engrossed that even Kuukuwaa stood up and approached.

She stood and looked at the extremely neat sketches, drawn to precision, with all required measurements attached and like her father, she also turned from the sketches and stared at Zack, dumbfounded by such artistry.

“And you can do this?” Opanyin asked curiously.

“I can do it,” Zack replied with a smile.

“You still don’t remember anything about your past, even after drawing these things?” Opanyin asked thoughtfully.

“Unfortunately, no. But this came with ease as if it is something I’m used to doing,” he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Yes, like an engineer, or architect or designer. It will come back, son, just give it a little more time. I have some bags of cement. I wanted to build more rooms at the back of the building, you know. The cement is getting hard since I’m not ready yet. Tomorrow, Kobby will bring some of his friends to help. And then we will see, young man.”

“Good, sir. Thanks for having faith in me.”

“I hope it works. Sometimes I also get tired of the worms and the flies and the damn cockroaches!” Opanyin said with a smile.

“That’s like a house! You want to build a house for shit?” Kobby asked, stunned. “Seriously? I mean, the shit will now have a bedroom?”

Zack chuckled then, his voice deep and rumbling, a rich, pleasant sound that dimpled his cheeks, and made his eyes come alive.

His eyes met Kuukuwaa’s, and she stopped breathing for a beat.

A warm glow spread through her, and for a moment she almost reached for his hand.

Zack stood up quickly with a blast of pride and walked towards the bathroom, and they watched him go.

About forty minutes later, as Kuukuwaa was setting up the dining room, placing bowls of fufu on the table, her stepmother walked in, holding Zack’s sketch pad.

“He left this,” she said gently. “Maybe you can give it to him. There are some nice drawings on the last pages. I didn’t show them to your father though.”

Kuukuwaa took the sketchbook and turned the pages hurriedly, and then she stopped suddenly as if she had been turned to stone.

She saw her own face staring up at her.

He had drawn her with care, with love, with something extra! It was just her face, drawn in black ink, adorned by her braids and it was a thing of beauty!

Almost trembling, Kuukuwaa turned to the next page.

This was a half-length portrait of her, smiling radiantly. It was like a scene in the yard when she was washing utensils.

The next one showed a full-length portrait of her, half-turning over a clay water drum and she remembered that day well.

She had been pouring water into the drum in the kitchen when Zack had walked in, startling her, and she had turned and the expression on her startled face had been captured perfectly!

Her face was both filled with surprise and inner joy.

It was a work of beauty!

“He can remember the look of my face, retain it and draw it so… so… so perfectly?” she whispered, stunned.

“He didn’t need to remember, dear!” Obaapa said tenderly. “It was captured in his heart. It will always be in his heart!”

The door opened suddenly and Zack came in, looking flustered.

His brow was a bit furrowed, maybe with worry as he looked at them.

“Listen… erm, my sketch pad. I think I left it. Has any of you seen it?”

Obaapa Basiwaa smiled and walked past him, and then he saw the sketch pad in Kuukuwaa’s hands.

“I have seen it, Zack,” she said tenderly.

He walked forward slowly and saw that it was still open at one of the sketches he had made of her and his face was suddenly showing worry.

“Oh. Listen, Kuks, I don’t mean anything bad okay?” he said anxiously. “Hope your father didn’t see them. I just –”

She suddenly put a hand across his lips, cutting him off and with tears of joy glistening in her eyes, she took her hand away and put it on his chest, across his heart.

“To know that you have me here, in your heart, is very beautiful!”

He was trembling too, his face suddenly agonized, tortured, filled with a longing and a desire so deep that it made her gasp.

He reached out and put his palm just under her left breast.

“You’re there, Kuks. Always. Am I also here, Kuks?”

With a little exhalation of breath, she took a step closer so that she was now very close to him, and stared deep into his eyes with her heart open on her face.

“I see you, Zack. I don’t think you’re ever going to leave this heart of mine.”

“Oh, Kuks!” he cried, almost in agony because he craved her so and inched a step forward so that now their chests were almost touching. His hands reached out, but just then the Medicine Man of Densua entered.

“I take it my fufu is ready?” he asked calmly.

They both freeze, their faces mirroring equal measures of pain and frustration as their minute of magic was so cruelly shattered.

“Yes, Papa,” she said, almost forlornly as she stepped back with a little whimper.

Zack turned slowly, his face tortured, and headed for the door.

Opanyin Amoah, who had now taken his seat at the head of the table, raised his eyebrows.

“And where are you going to, Engineer? Are you not going to eat?”

Zack stared at the older man for a moment, obviously still quite rattled, and then he pulled out a chair and sat on it heavily.

Kuukuwaa put the sketch pad into a basket and covered it with a napkin. It had become one of her most prized possessions, and she was going to look at the drawings again later.

She picked up her father’s bowl of fufu and began to ladle soup on it with unsteady hands.

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