The Jailbird

Chapter 2

Barbara joins the main road towards Achimota, and she keeps casting furtive glances at Chris.

Chris is reclining in the seat, head back, eyes closed, hands lying limply on his thighs, obviously lost in his inner conflicts. Barbara sighs with great compassion for him. A man cooped inside that horrible place for five years and now free would've been expected to take in the sights with excitement, a happy smile.

But not Chris Bawa.

He chooses to close his eyes and deal with his inner demons.

Barbara looks at his long eyelashes, his thick brows, his sensuous lips, and once again she is struck by how absolutely handsome he is. Prison life has only helped to fine-tune his sleek lines, chiseling him completely and presenting a most amazing specimen of manhood as the final product. Even in his cheap clothes he is still one of the most attractive men she has ever set eyes on.

She rummages in the CD pack compartment under the car's player. She selects a compact disc and slots it into the car's CD player. Very soon, the smooth sounds of AZ Yet's Last Night fill the interior of the car.

He opens his eyes, turns his head and looks at her. She returns his gaze, strangely feeling a strained silence between them and a heightened sense of awareness that she quickly tries to quell.

"Listen, Chris, I'm not really in a hurry. I can pass through Madina and drop you off if you wish," she says in a rush.

His eyes search her face, and his face remains expressionless.

"What's going on, Barbara?" he asks quietly.

She raises her eyebrows at him.

"I don't understand your question, Chris," she says carefully as she returns her attention to the road, and realizes with a little bit of unease that her hands are not quite steady on the steering-wheel. She can feel his eyes still on her profile, intently trying to probe through her mind.

"You go out of your way to be good to me, all the time, even when your other colleagues were doing their best to break my spirit," Chris says softly. "What do you want from me?"

She continues driving for a while as her mind races through possible answers which she quickly discards. She knows this is the moment, that fine little space of time when their relationship, if there is ever going to be one, is hinged on a fine balance, and the wrong words or action can send it toppling either way.

When she looks at him briefly again, he notices how fragile she looks all of a sudden, and how beautiful she really is. She sighs softly and gives him a sad little smile.

"You want honesty," she says carefully.

"Honesty, yes, Barbara."

She hesitates for a moment, and then she nods almost imperceptibly.

"You're right, Chris. But I don't think this is the time to talk about that. I'll see you again after today, won't I?"

He continues to look at her, and there is no smile on his face. His eyes look almost shaded.

"Do you want to?" he asks softly.

She looks at him again, and her expression is as frank as it is direct and honest.

"Yes, Chris. I want to see you again."

He looks away from her then and leans back again. He shuts his eyes, and once again she marvels at his long lashes lying on his cheeks, looking so feminine and yet giving such a strong masculine beauty to him.

"Okay," he says finally. "Then, you will."

She smiles. She is happy.

"So, I take you to Madina," she says, and it is not a question.

"I would appreciate that very much, thank you."

She smiles again, her expression suddenly warm as if a light has been lit somewhere inside of her. They listen to music for a while. Suddenly, she gives a start and turns to him again, reaching over and giving his shoulder a little nudge. He opens his eyes and looks at her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she says in a rush. "Please, my handbag is in the back seat. Can you reach it?"

Chris picks up the beautiful black handbag and proffers it to her, but she shakes her head and smiles.

"No, look inside the side pocket. There's a phone in there," she says.

He unzips the side pocket and brings out a beautiful black phone which he extends toward her.

She speaks without looking at him, and a little smile plays around the corners of her full lips.

"Keep it, Chris. I wanted to give it to you on your birthday last year, but you know, prison rules. It is for you. Fixed a sim card in it for you too. I stored my number on it. The only number stored, in fact. If you need any help out there, any help at all, don't hesitate to call me."

Chris puts the bag on the back seat again and then he presses the power button on the side of the phone. The screen lights up brilliantly and the phone boots up. The home screen wallpaper is a photo of a smiling Barbara. A moment later, the lock screen comes on, and this also displays a different smiling photo of her.

Then a phone lock icon appears on the screen.

"Password?" he asks.

"Password is barbs, lowercase," she says with a giggle. "You can change the wallpapers and the password, Chris. That was just an initial setup requirement and I just used the settings on my own phone. I've loaded some credits on it for you, and also bundled about two gigs of internet data."

They look at each other for a while, and then she smiles, and his eyes also soften as a sweet little smile plays around his lips. His smile dimples his cheeks slightly and turns that handsome face into a picture of masculine beauty.

"I love your dimples, Chris," Barbara says, and her voice is almost a whisper, and for a moment the expression on her face is soft and vulnerable.

He laughs a little then, and holds up the phone.

"Thank you, Barbara. I really appreciate it. This must have cost a fortune," he says softly.

She smiles happily.

"You're welcome, Chris," she says.

Again, her face is all tender, giving away some of the secrets of her heart without her being aware of it, and as he looks at her, the smile slowly dies from his face and his eyes are almost hooded again.

"You know I'm married, Barbara?" he asks, his voice calm and direct.

She nods once and turns her attention to the road once more, but the light dies from her face, and for a very brief moment, her eyes glint with sudden cruelty. A vein beats angrily on her left temple for a moment, and her hands grip the steering wheel very tightly.

They are now approaching a toll booth.

She takes out a cedi note and pays the toll charge, and again her hand is not quite steady as she takes the ticket, drives through the raised bars, and then she flings the ticket away angrily.

Chris reaches into his top pocket, takes out a lovely, golden wedding ring, and slips it on his ring finger. Barbara watches him with a steely gaze that looks predatory and savage, but he does not notice this. She watches the ring on his finger with fury, and then she speaks softly in a voice that has become frosted over with cruelty.

"Yes, Chris, I know you're married. I also know your wife filed for divorce almost as soon as you went to jail. I hear she wants a divorce rather badly because she wants to marry your best friend, Mr. Steve Hollison. Oh, this Steve guy, wasn't he your best man at your wedding?"

She notices how his jaw tightens instantly, and the pained look that washes across his face, a look of sudden despair and agony. She is still gripped in an uncontrollable cocoon of fury, and so goes on speaking.

"I have always wondered whether your wife and your best friend were having an affair behind your back even when you two were married because, frankly, I find their behavior absolutely disgusting. And oh, yes, I forgot to add that she never once visited you in prison these five years. She has written you off, Chris, baby, obviously! And I don't have to be a magician to know they're probably making love each night, so don't you think that putting that wedding ring on your finger is a little bit absurd?"

She sees the torture in the depths of his eyes, and the terrible emotion that rips through his soul so that his handsome face becomes a shattered mask of raw explosive pain. She realizes that she has just hurt him deeply, maybe irreparably, and she reaches out with instant remorse, trying desperately to take his hand and draw him back into the shell of warm camaraderie they have been sharing, but he snatches his hand away sharply; that gesture alone terrifies her more than any emotion he has shown so far. Her face is a map of remorse as she looks desperately at him.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He leans his head back and closes his eyes once more, and does not respond to her again till they reach the town of Madina.

He makes her stop once when he sees a gift shop, and he gets down without another word and enters the store. He returns with a small gift-wrapped package which he holds very carefully, and once again Barbara's fury soars.

This time, however, she fights hard to control the fiery lash of her tongue. He leans through the window and looks at her. His eyes are still sad, and there is an ember of pain deep in the depths of those beautiful eyes. Without really knowing what she is doing she leans across suddenly and gently rubs his right cheek. When she speaks, her voice is contrite.

"I'm really sorry, really. I don't know what came over me, Chris."

He nods but he does not smile.

"Thank you very much for everything, Barbara," he says. "Very much appreciated."

"You're always welcome, Chris," she replies, still contrite.

He turns and walks away, melting into the throng of bodies, and he does not look back. She looks after him until she cannot see him again, and then she sighs deeply.

"Why do you affect me so, Chris Bawa?" she mutters under her breath, and then she engages gear and drives on.