Twenty-Five

Two days later, Ira drives into her yard and parks the car near the Boys' Quarters.

Behind her car is a white U-Haul. She gets down and looks across at Chris, and her face closes in a look of extreme displeasure at what she sees.

Chris is at the far end of the compound holding a cutlass. He is wearing black jeans and black Chinese sneakers. It is evident that he has been weeding the whole compound. He has packed the weeds neatly into huge black disposable bags and stacked them at the entrance of the house.

He is carrying the last of the bags outside when her car turned in. He deposits the bag of weeds on top of the others, and then he walks slowly towards her.

He is bare-chested, his body tapering from a broad masculine chest to a lean waist. The hair on his chest and taut belly is rich and beautiful. She waits for him, still scowling, and finally he stops and presses his back against the railing of the veranda and crosses his arms across his chest.

"You're home early today, Ira. Wasn't expecting you now," Chris says.

She walks up to him and stands very close to him. Her anger is apparent.

"CB, let this be the last time you weed this compound!" she says coldly, obviously annoyed. "We have laborers who weed the compound every fortnight. They have power mowers. It is their job, and you should let them do it!"

"Relax, Ira. I've been weeding for the last five years. Actually, I like weeding now. Great exercise," Chris says with a sad smile.

"Chris Bawa, you will promise me that this will never happen again. Believe me, I would rather throw you out of this place than watch you weed."

"Ira, come on. It gave me something to do, something to clear my head. I don't have a –"

He sees that her hands are balled up into angry fists by her side, and that her eyes are flashing, and for an incredible moment it takes him back, and for a moment he feels like he is with Effe, because she behaves the same way when she is angry.

"Chris. Please. No!"

"Alright, alright. I promise."

She looks at him with impotent rage for a moment more, and then slowly she begins to relax. Her hands uncurl, and she gives a shuddering breath.

"Thank you. I brought you a gift. Come have a look," Ira says.

He moves beside her and helps her to open the U-Haul. Inside, glistening in brand new metal, is a huge Yamaha motorbike. He stands back and looks at her warily.

"Come on, Ira. Don't tell me you bought that for me. You didn't have to do it. Can't accept it, please."

She moves closer to him and looks into his eyes, and her eyes flash with impatience.

"Chris Bawa, don't think because I kissed you once it connotes to a final conclusion that everything I do for you means I want some sort of sexual favor from you!" she says tightly.

"Didn't mean it like that, Ira," Chris says unhappily.

She holds up a stern right forefinger, cutting him off, her eyes still angry.

"Every senior doctor is entitled to one motorbike at home for housekeepers, I didn't take mine because my housekeeper doesn't know how to ride. Now you're here, largely to begin your life again. I know you would need to go around on personal errands. This is hospital premises, and taxis rarely frequent here, and I don't suppose you would want to use Uber all the time. So I went for the motorbike, to help you move around. If you don't want it, just leave it inside. I'll send it back."

She turns away from him and begins to walk away.

"Ira, please. Wait!" Chris calls, contrite.

He tries to take her hand, but she moves away from him and continues walking. He stays rooted, staring after her with mixed feelings, and then he climbs into the U-Haul. He brings out the motorbike, stands it up, and moves towards Ira's car to drive it to the main house. Just then two cars turn into the driveway from the main road, making Chris pause and scowl at the sight of the cars.

He mounts the stairs to the veranda of the Boys Quarters and leans against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as the cars come toward the Boys' Quarters.

The first car is Effe's sleek BMW. The other car is a shiny silver Toyota Sequoia and Chris watches warily as the cars come to a stop and Effe gets down.

The doors of the Toyota open, and Stan gets down from the driver's seat. The Reverend Brand Bawa gets down from the passenger seat. Diana and Lois Bawa get down from the back seats.

Chris does not move away from the wall where he is leaning, and he does not drop his folded arms. His eyes are hard glints of suppressed anger as he watches them approach. They stop and as they look at him, he can see the shock in their eyes. He is still naked from the waist up, and they know that he has always been a hairy boy. Their shock stems from the way his body has changed. The bulging fat he has carried to prison has melted, and his body is hard and ripped from five years of terrible labor in prison, and keeping himself fit just to survive that hell created by Chief Inspector Curtis and his cohorts. It strikes all of them that life at the James Fort Prison had not been an easy one for Chris Bawa.

"Hello, Chris," Effe says softly. "How're you doing?"

"Surviving," Chris replies, his face expressionless.

"Your Mom called me yesterday. They wanted to see you, and I promised them I'll bring them here today," Effe continues.

Chris says nothing, but slowly the fury ebbs from his eyes, and in its place is a look of sudden sadness.