INTO THE VOID

CHAPTER 23: TILKILI (THE GRAND)

Everything happened so quickly; packing the bags, the drive to the airport, it was so quick. Xaviere did not grab the weight of what they were doing until the plane took off. It was not until they were airborne, suspended meters above the ground that he realized how big what they were doing was. They were about to fly half way across the world to a place they have never been; so much uncertainty.

Xaviere had so many thoughts come into his mind; what if the plane crashes, what if the aircraft disappears like all those ones they hear about in TV? He sat by a window looking at the white clouds as the plane flew through the sky. He was pretty tensed. Petrichor noticed he was not his regular chatty self. She noticed his unusual silence and saw his shaky leg. She put on hand on his knee and then said, “You have nothing to be scared of. I'm right here.” After hearing the reassuring words, Xaviere felt safe. They started to talk. She made him laugh, he made her laugh too. The conversation became deep and then she gradually took his mind off the whole flight phobia thing.

After fourteen hours of flight, they finally touched down Addis Ababa. Xaviere had been in planes before but the experience was different. They were alone in the coach. The only other people in the plane with them were the pilots and flight attendant. The air hostess was very nice. Even the food on the plane was like a hundred times better than what Xaviere was used to. The woman spoke in a British accent and served with so much courtesy.

When they touched down, even were they came into was different from the ones for normal passengers. They were taken to the VIP section. Andrew was already there waiting for them. There was no cardboard paper in his hand with their names boldly written. He just stood there, leaning against a mountain range jeep with both his hands tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket. As Xaviere and Petrichor walked down the stairs, some people were already waiting by to help them with their duffel bags. While still on the stairs, Xaviere saw his friend standing a distance away and waved at him with a huge smile on his face.

“What’s up old mate?” Andrew screamed now walking towards Xaviere who was barely off the stairs with both his hands held by his sides.

“I'm good bro.” Xaviere screamed back. He firmly shook Andrew’s hand and then they hugged for a brief moment.

“I can’t believe you actually came.” Andrew said, pulling back from the hug to take a better look at his friend. He looked at him the same way a mother would look at a little child after school; he inspected him as thought to ascertain if this was the Xaviere he knew.

“You’re looking peng man.” Andrew said.

“…not half as peng as you my man...” Xaviere responded. They both burst out laughing and slapped their hands together in a handshake again. Instinctively, they both did their special hand shake and with relative ease too. It was something they came up with in the 8th grade and a handshake they did for a long time through school.

“…and who do we have here?” Andrew asked in a tune that suggested intense interest.

“I am so sorry, forgive my manners. This is Petrichor…my Petrichor.” Xaviere said sounding very British. It was as if meeting Andrew again stirred up his accent. He pointed towards Petrichor who was standing a few feet away watching their little reunion drama.

“Oh, Petrichor…nice to meet you in person; I’ve heard so much about you.” Andrew said stretching his hand out for a shake.

“Knowing Xaviere, all exaggerations I must assume.” Petrichor said taking Andrew’s hand. He shook her gently and then said, “On the contrary, he has done a poor job describing your beauty.” Andrew said after which he gently kissed the back of her right hand.

“Wait, did they teach you all flattery n that fancy high school of yours?” Petrichor asked trying hard not to blush at his compliment.

“…in the catholic all boys seminary... far from it; that’s a skill you develop on your own. In this case, it isn’t even flattery. The tongue just said what the eyes saw.” Andrew responded. He was as poetic as he was eloquent.

“Alright now, let’s not waste more time with the little chit chat; there will be enough time for that in the suite.” As Andrew turned towards the jeep, a man came out of the car and held open the door of the passenger’s seat. The bags were already in the trunk of the car. Petrichor and Xaviere got into the car. Andrew turned to the pilot who was standing a few feet away from the car and said, “Did father leave any messages for me?”

“No sir; have a nice trip.” The Pilot replied.

“Thank you Fredrick.” Andrew said to him. He got into the car and then said, “To the suite.”

During the drive, Andrew and Xaviere did a lot of catching up. Petrichor sat and listened and made contributions only when necessary. The car parked in front of a beautiful, big structure. That was the suite that they were going to stay in for a week.

“Welcome guys, to Tilkili; The Grand.” Andrew said as the car pulled up to the entrance of the suite. Andrew had already opened the door before the car came to a stop. By the time the car stopped, he was already out of the vehicle.

“David, I will be in my room. We might go out soon. If there’s anything, I would call you.” Andrew said. The man he addressed by his first name was old enough to be his father; probably even older than his father. Mr. David Galahad has been a family chauffer for a long time now. More recently, he serves as Andrew’s valet. He has followed him to many countries. Calling elders by their first names has always been a problem to Xaviere because he was not trained that way. His father always said it was disrespectful in Africa to address your senior without a title but now, in the greatest irony, here was Andrew, in the heart of Africa, calling this elderly man by his name.

“C’mon guys, let’s go.” Andrew said. Immediately the car stopped, three muscular, young men all approached them asking to carry their bags. Xaviere would have done it himself because he had no money to tip them and honestly he thought it was unnecessary but Andrew insisted. Andrew was living large and spending money like a king here. He even paid for their rooms. Basically, this was an all expense paid trip and Andrew was the one handling the expenses.

They went into the reception and behind the desk were beautiful ladies all dressed in beautiful African attires. Petrichor was astonished at the beauty and patterns; Xaviere not so much. While at the front desk, Andrew told them about the reservation and he was given a key-card. The lady he spoke to when through a database on the desktop in front of her and saw the room number and the name of the person who reserved it. Xaviere told him he was bringing a date and Andrew being the smooth operator he always has, booked a couples resort for them. The room came with packages like breakfast in bed, musical concerts and a private Jacuzzi; it was really romantic.

“How do you like Tilkili?” Andrew asked Petrichor.

“It’s really beautiful. It’s basically a hotel in New York but more African; like a lot more.” Petrichor said. Andrew smiled.

“Yes, yes it is. Anything African has a spice to it. Theirs is ingenuity, this originality; it’s authentic and eccentric unlike any other thing in the world. From the music, to art, to food and dance; you name it, once it is African, it is different and different in a good way.” Andrew said with one hand in his pocket and the other swinging in the air. Xaviere was reminded of their old debating days.

“Xaviere, how come you never told me it was this beautiful?” Petrichor asked. Xaviere was about to say something when Andrew cut in.

“Him, Xaviere James Obiora Williams, tell you about the beauties of Africa? Don’t make me laugh. One has to have seen such beauties before you can even talk about it,”

“C’mon Andrew, I have been to Nigeria.” Xaviere said defensively.

“Don’t tell me you are about to reference that one time you went for a burial. You were there for just two weeks man.” Andrew said laughing. He turned to Petrichor and this time he was gesticulating with both his hands. He then said, “He was locked up in a room all through; he hardly came out and the mandem was allergic to everything. He even came back with swollen lips.” Andrew said laughing. Petrichor laughed too and then she said,

“That must have been awful.”

“I wasn’t allergic to everything; it was just the periwinkles. There’s this cuisine with like leaves and sea foods and it triggered my allergies, that’s it.” Xaviere said.

“Yeah, yeah… whatever you say but right now I can bet I'm more African than you.” Andrew said.

As they walked to the room, Xaviere and Andrew had an argument about who was more African. It was just like old times. Xaviere was dropping the facts while Andrew was using his oratory to his advantage. Finally, they reached the room.

“So, this is where I leave you love birds. See you in the morning.” Andrew said as they reached the door of their room.

“Thank you for everything man, I really appreciate it.” Xaviere said. Petrichor and Xaviere then went into the room.