Chapter Eleven

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Creaking sounds like metals coming in close contact jolted me awake. A sharp pain crept into my head, making concentration difficult. It felt like a chronic hangover, so severe that I thought my entire body would keel over. I wrapped my hands around head, hoping that would ease the pain, unfortunately, the metallic sounds of the prison bars being opened, aggravated my pain. I cursed silently, hating my present state with more fervour.

"You have visitors." an officer announced, waiting by the bars to accompany me to where my supposed visitors were. Visitors, as in plural? I mused. Not quite long ago, I had realized regretfully that I had no one to help me and all of a sudden, visitors? Who could they be? I reasoned as I stood, groaning over my state of health.

As I passed by other prison bars, I found some other men and women locked up, they stared at me with sorrow in their eyes. I couldn't imagine what their cases for being locked up were, regardless, I could only hope that they got acquainted soon. A squeal from the visiting room diverted my thoughts to reality as I was crushed into feminine arms before I could see who it was. From her scent, I knew it was Rose and so I hugged her back with all of my might. She felt soft and supple, like the sophisticated lady she posed to be. A single tear ran down and I quickly wiped it off.

As I wiped it off, I noticed the shabby guy Rose introduced as Malcolm the other day and when a movement caught my right eye, I turned to see who it was and found Chiké standing, his hands buried deep in his pockets, looking formal as usual. I grew emotional as I understood that they had come for me. How they knew where I was, I had absolutely no idea, nevertheless, I was thrilled.

For the first time today, I felt genuinely elated!

"You guys came!" I shrieked, stepping a foot away to stare at all three.

"Of course we did. Did you think we were gonna let you rot here all alone?" Rose responded, tapping my forehead with her index finger—a habit she loved—and hugged me again. "We were so worried about you. What happened? How did you end up here? Who did you kill?" She threw in all her questions, the last one made me chortle.

"No one, silly. Do I look like I'm capable of hurting an ant?" I countered, my laughter had subsided. She shook her head in reply and gestured that I explained further. I sighed and looked down, feeling a sudden sense of mortification. "Well, I was arrested because I have been living here in Canada illegally for a while now." the room instantly fell silent.

"Damn, when African Lover boy here said the same thing on our way here, I thought he was bluffing." Rose chimed, pointing at Chiké. Wow, how did he guess correctly? From the look on my face, I believed my bewilderment was written on my face as Malcom jumped in to expatiate.

"He hired a private investigator who found out your location within a few seconds. How cool is that? This guy is awesome, I tell you." he pumped his fists in the air. Clearly, he was on top of the world like a mere human given the privilege to work alongside an undercover spy on a deadly mission. Ignoring him, I moved my gaze to Chiké, raising my eyebrow at him. Immediately our eyes locked, he broke the contact by staring at the floor, an expression of guilt. The next second, he was walking over to where I stood. Though I was a few inches taller, I felt dwarfed by his presence. There always existed an air of dominance around him.

"Can we talk for a moment?" he said while scratching his beard which had grown a tad longer than the last time we met. I folded my arms and nodded then transferred my gaze to the other two who were also watching us like hawks. When they made no move to leave, Chiké subtly asked for some privacy. "All right Lover boy. We'll be outside. I'm actually parched! Malcom, darling, let's go see if those officers would care to give us some coffee and doughnuts." Rose, finally getting the memo, announced. Malcolm agreed and tailed behind her like a lost puppy.

When they were gone, Chiké cleared his throat and I waited for what he had to say. To be honest, I was quite nervous.

"I'm so sorry I missed your calls today. I wasn't with my phone when you called and I had no idea you were in dire need of help. I hope you can forgive me?" He pleaded contritely. I exhaled deeply, remembering my sober moment today. How I had called and the hurt that came when he didn't pick up. However, as busy as he was, he still came to see me and was apologizing. I couldn't find it in my heart to say no.

"That's fine. You're here now and that's what matters. Thank you for coming over." I replied.

"And for hiring a private investigator, I'm sorry I did that. I didn't mean to intrude but we were worried when we realised you didn't go to work and you weren't at home nor answering your calls. I had no choice but to call Stan." For the powerful man that he was, I knew apologizing wasn't an everyday thing for him.

"Again, I forgive you and thanks." I answered.
He nodded and after that, there was silence.

"So um, what's your next step?" he inquired. I shrugged, thinking about my current problem.

"Well, I will be deported to France tomorrow." The words were so difficult and suffocating to say but I did. It was a truth I had been forced to accept. He pranced around, clearly having something to say but didn't know how to. I waited patiently.

"What if you didn't have to leave? What if I made you stay?" he blurted out. My eyebrows creased as I stared at him, bewildered.

"I don't follow." Was my response. I had no idea what he was saying. He looked at me and turned away immediately, facepalming. Why was he acting weird all of a sudden?

"What if I gave you a job? Would that make you stay?" Shocked, I could only stare, at a loss for words. Since I made no attempt to respond, he continued.

"Last night, after our conversation, I couldn't help but think you were right!" at my perplexity, he continued. "You told me how you thought hard work wasn't the only criterion for success and how lucky I am to have amassed the wealth I have. Well, you were right! I'm not special, I don't know how to relate well with people. I don't know how to show I care. The only worthy thing about me is my passion and skill in business." He stared at me and it felt like I could see through him, into his soul. What I found was a man who was deeply troubled and needed reaffirmation. A man who had so much but lacked care. I knew so little about him but one thing I knew was, underneath the rough surface, he was just a man who was a little lost and in need of guidance. But then I had no idea of my role in all of this.

"Um, what then do you want from me?" I stuttered. Why was he telling me all these and what job exactly was he offering?

"I admire how collected you are. You don't have much but you're always cheerful. I have never seen you sad or bitter despite your challenges. I want to make a proposition." He answered and I listened keenly to what he had to say. "I want you teach me how to be lively and cheerful. How to make long lasting friendships and the most important is, I want you to show me how I can help others. I figured I needed to share this luck called 'wealth' that I have been graced with. In exchange, I'll work out a ten year visa for you to stay in Canada. You will be free to travel and return here whenever you like within the next ten years. If you agree, I could draw up a written contract so you can be assured that I am serious about this. What do you say?"

Woah! Ten extra freaking years in Canada? Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected this! But then was I capable of helping him out with the role he wanted me to play? I was overwhelmed by his perspective of me; always cheerful, never sad nor bitter. Indeed, what my teachers in high school saw in me back in those days, were still present and this was my moment to get paid for a decision I made years ago.

Happiness was a choice and I had chosen to stay happy no matter what.

With this new job, I could spend more time here so I could earn more funds to take care of my family.

However, remembering my teary moments today, I reveled in the fact that my tears were not in vain! I needed to pour out all my frustrations in order to find my peace. Therefore, here lied an opportunity which I couldn't refuse but had to seize by its horns.

Jesus, thank You!

Returning to the present, I stretched forth my hands, offering a handshake of which he obliged. With hands clasped firmly together, I revealed, "You have yourself a deal!"

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