Twelve

Chris takes another step toward his father, and the auditorium is suddenly hushed again. They can all see clearly that he is very angry, and very hurt, and for a moment it looks as if he is going to attack his father. Effe is so afraid that she grips her wrist tightly and speaks under her breath.

"Please, Chris. Please no, don't do it!"

"And what has all that got to do with you selling my house?" he asks tightly.

"What has it got to do with it? Is that what you asked? I used the proceeds from the sale of the house to meet the medical bills of these two persons you hurt! Do you know that poor girl is still in a wheelchair? Do you know she'll never walk again? I give her money every month, Chris my son! That is the responsibility you left me. And I'm a responsible man! So yes, I sold your house to take care of the mess you left behind!" The reverend throws up his arms in a gesture of exasperation and answers.

Once again there are murmurs of approval from the congregation.

"Is that the reason why you also threw my things out of the house? My clothes and everything that belonged to me?" Chris asks coldly. "People took them away, I'm told. Was that also to pay for medical bills, sir?"

The room is instantly hushed again.

Eyes now turn to the man of God as the congregation suddenly realizes that dumping his son's belongings outside had, for a fact, been a bad thing to do. Reverend Brand Bawa stares at his son's hurt face woodenly, and he says nothing for a moment. That is new to the congregation, and it staggers some of them because their pastor has never been known to lack words to address any situation. Mrs. Lois Bawa suddenly sees the pity on the faces of some people in the congregation, and her mind processes it for what it is: a negative effect on her husband's ministry. She speaks suddenly and furiously, raising her voice so that her words can be succinctly heard.

"Your father didn't throw out your things, Chris! I did! I was sickened by the atrocities you committed, not only against my brother, your own uncle, but in harming that poor girl too! I was hurt, I was angry, and I was humiliated. God forgive me, but in that instant I was not a pastor's wife, definitely not a Christian. I was a confused, grieving mother! I'm sorry now! I wish I hadn't done that, but I couldn't help it then!"

Commiserative murmurings fill the auditorium, and once more the anger is directed at Chris, and the reverend breathes a sigh of relief, saved by his wife. Chris looks at his parents for a long time, and then he speaks quietly.

"You have done well."

His words, though soft, are like showers of molten rock that make his mother wince inwardly. She is stunned, and for a moment tears glitter in her eyes. Chris then reaches into his pocket and takes out a twenty, two and one cedi notes. He drops them into the glass offertory bowl on the platform.

He looks at his parents again.

"You sold my house. You threw my stuff out. I just put all the money on me into your offertory bowl, father. Now, as I stand here, I don't have any money on me. All I have are these clothes I'm wearing. They are the clothes I was wearing when I went to prison. Like I said, you have done well."

He descends the platform. Every eye is on him, mostly filled with anger and hatred. Junior, aware that his mother's attention is now focused on what is happening, suddenly slips from her grasp. He picks up a lunch bowl on the floor and runs towards his father.

"Junior! Come back, Junior!" Effe calls frantically, but Junior is already running down the aisle toward his father. Stan Bawa is up on his feet again, and looks at his brother with venom.

"God forgive me, Chris! But I hate you! I really hate you!" he utters with bristling fury.

Junior, who has reached them, looks at his uncle with sudden tears in his eyes.

"Why do you hate my Daddy, Uncle Stan?" he asks tearfully. "Is he not your own brother?"

His little voice, loud and clear, carries through the church, and its innocent hurt tones cut through most hearts, reminding them suddenly that they are in church, and they are supposed to be loving and forgiving Christians.

Stan looks down at Junior, immediately contrite.

"Oh, Junior, I'm sorry, son! I didn't mean to hurt you."

He reaches out to hold the boy, but Junior shies away from him, and then he stands in front of his broken father with a tearful but determined expression on his face.

"I don't hate you. I really, really, really love you, Daddy!"

Chris cannot speak for a moment because he can feel the tears bubbling somewhere deep within him, and stinging his eyes. He is strong against the hatred of his family, but his son's brave love is threatening to break his back, and for a tick his legs almost cannot support him. He nods and steps quickly past his son. He tries to walk on, but his son runs after him, shouting, crying, and begging him to stop.

Chris stops, turs and falls on one knee in a swift motion. Junior runs into his father's arms and embraces him tightly. Chris Bawa crushes his son to his chest, and buries his face in his son's neck. There is a painful lump in Chris' throat as the tears struggle fiercely to fall, but he grits his jaws and breathes hard to stem the flow of tears. But his eyes are reddened and wet all the same as he looks across the shoulders of his son. Effe, who has followed her son, stops and looks at them with sudden tears rolling down her face.

Chris gently pushes back from his son. The boy reaches out and wipes tears from his father's cheeks, and then he picks up his lunch box from the floor, pulls up the lid, and brings out a big sandwich and a sachet of Fanmilk which he proffers to his father.

"This is for you, Daddy," the little boy says in a trembling voice.

Chris smiles, and swallows painfully. He takes the sandwich and breaks it into two halves. He hands half to his son and then he takes the Fanmilk.

"There's a problem, Champ," Chris says lovingly. "How're we gonna share this one? It's soft, if I cut it up...."

"Really, really, really big problem!" Junior says with a tremulous sigh and a relieved giggle. Chris laughs gently then.

"You know what? You keep the Fanmilk, Champ. I'll eat the sandwich," he says, but the boy shakes his head vehemently.

"No, Daddy. I want you to have it. I have a lot at home," he says urgently.

Chris hesitates, and then he bites the tip of the Fanmilk, sips, takes a bite of sandwich, and then he stands up and looks tenderly down at his son.

"I love you, Champ," Chris Bawa says. "I love you hard."

Junior nods wordlessly as great tears fall down his face again. The sight of his son so emotionally affected breaks Chris' heart, and he turns round quickly and leaves the church auditorium. Effe tries to hold Junior, but the boy shrugs her hands aside and walks back rather dejectedly toward his seat, swinging his lunchbox absent-mindedly against his thigh.

Effe looks at her hurting son for a moment, and then she walks quickly toward the entrance, apparently going after Chris Bawa. She sees him walking towards the entrance, and she runs after him.

When Chris walked out of the main gates of the church he sees Barbara's car parked across the street, and she is leaning against it. He stops and gazes at her with surprise and incomprehension for a moment. She is dressed in a fetching white skirt and blouse suit with a black inner vest, and she looks very beautiful indeed. He pushes the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and drinks all the Fanmilk, and then he dumps the empty sachet into a dustbin near the entrance. He crosses the street and walks towards Barbara.

She smiles into his face.

"Hello, Chris," she says in a gentle voice.

"Are you, perchance, stalking me?" Chris asks with a forced smile.

She smiled again, gently and sweetly.

"No, Chris. I'm a member of the church too. When I saw you in that drama with your father, I suspected you might eventually need a lift somewhere, so I drove out to wait for you."

Chris takes a shuddering breath, and a look of sheer dejection crosses his face. Barbara stops smiling immediately, and she suddenly put her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. Chris holds her, grateful for her warmth and her kind heart, and for being there for him at that particular moment.

He hugs her back tightly, and when Effe comes out through the main gates, she sees them like that. She gasps and stops suddenly, looking at them without breathing for a moment. They do not see her as they eventually part and enter the car, and a moment later they drive away.

Effe recognizes the painful thuds of her heart, and on her face is a stunned, incredulous look.

She has not felt this way in a very long time!

She has totally forgotten how it feels like to have those jealous bouts! She exhales shudderingly, and as she turns away there is a little furrow of worry on her beautiful forehead.

She knows at that stage of her life that the last thing she should be feeling is jealousy, especially over Chris, the man who humiliated and hurt her so, the man who ripped her heart to pieces!

"I'm not going to allow you to do this to me, Chris! Not again, not ever!" she says fiercely.