Chapter 18 Continued

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For the first time in many years, Emilia was going to church with a light heart.  She felt that she had stared down her biggest temptation and emerged victorious.  She knew many would judge her if they knew she had just spent the night under the same roof with a man she had just met but she still rejoiced in the fact that nothing had happened.  Like most men, Harold had tried to take advantage of the situation but she respected him for understanding that agreeing to spend the night in his house did not necessarily mean agreeing to have sex with him.  And, she also did not judge him for trying to ‘fornicate’ with her when he invited her to come to church with him.  She knew, first hand, that going to church is not a badge of perfection.

She had liked being with him thus far.  After dinner the night before, he had asked whether she would like to know where he lived.  She said yes. The ride from Zongo Junction, near Mataheko, to Airport Residential Area had been a lot of fun.  The Kwame Nkrumah Circle area was busy.  They had stopped at My Shop, where he bought her a huge bar of Golden Tree chocolate.  She was awed by the tree-lined median of the Ring Road as they neared the Redemption Circle.   Although she had traveled on the Ring Road many times, she had not really had the time to appreciate what it was really like at night.  She had mostly experienced the Ring Road through the hustle and bustle of commercial transportation, which did not afford passengers in Accra the luxury of sightseeing.  The connection of such comfort with Harold somehow endeared him to her.

She was also impressed by the neighborhood in which he lived.  Most of the houses were bordered by beautifully trimmed greenery.  Others had short, artsy walls with beautiful flowers poking up above them.  Some of the houses had their gates closed but those that had their gates open revealed long driveways and lovely architecture.  Even the high rise government apartment buildings looked classy and well-cared for.  The fragrance of ‘queen of the night’ hung delicately in the air.

She had not been able to see the whole of Harold’s house the night before.  A small door inside the garage led into a huge living room.  A billiards board in the center took up almost all of the Persian rug it stood on.  A small television sat in front of a recliner in the southwestern corner of the room.  That accounted for all the things in the living room.  In the morning, however, she discovered there were three other bedrooms apart from the one she had slept in and that the room in which she had slept was the only one, apart from the living room, that had a television.

 ‘Why don’t you have the tv in your bedroom?” She had asked as he opened the door into the yard for her.

 ‘I hardly watch tv.  I mostly listen to the radio.’

There was an empty, shallow map-like swimming pool in the yard.  As they followed the pool, she realized that its larger part spanned the entire width of a side porch decorated with huge African leather puffs.  The side of the porch had a winding staircase.  Harold climbed the staircase and motioned to her to follow.  She had expected to see another set of rooms.  Instead, she saw a huge terrace from which you can see planes getting ready to land or taking off from the airport.

 ‘If you get to the top floor of that apartment building, you can actually see the planes on the runway,’ he had said, pointing.  ‘But I like watching them up in the air too.  It’s a beautiful sight at night.’

He had then walked to the edge of the terrace and plucked ripe mangoes from a mango tree with fruits hanging right above the wall of the terrace.  She had opened her mouth wide in alarm when he rubbed his thumb on one of the mangoes and bit into.

 ‘I do tell children to wash their mangoes before they eat them,’ he had said.  ‘I just don’t do it very often.  Sometimes, I just like to be a child.  It’s liberating.’

 ‘But, what kind of doctor endangers his health in order to feel like a child?’

 ‘Not all doctors are as wise as you would like, I’m afraid.’

 ‘Are you one of the unwise ones?’

 ‘You be the judge.’

 ‘If you want me to come to church with you, we need to leave early.  Since you said the church is close to where I live, I need to stop at home to change into something more appropriate for church.’

So Harold had dropped her off where he had picked her the night before.  She had not invited him in because she felt embarrassed by the disparity between where he lived and where she lived.  She had returned looking gorgeous in a kaba and slit she had borrowed from Alice.  She had intended to wear a dress she had bought from Kingsway but changed her mind after seeing him emerge from his bedroom iin an expensive traditional kente cloth that was wrapped around his body  and thrown over his left shoulder.

 ‘You look great!’ he had said when she rejoined him in the car.

 ‘You too, she had replied.  ‘You look like a chief.’

 ‘O, thanks.  But, you know, those shoes are too nice.  You will have to take them off before you enter the church building.’

 ‘You never cease to amaze me.  You go to one of those churches?’

 ‘Wht is wrong with those churches?’

 ‘There’s nothing wrong with them.  I’ve been to many of them myself.  I guess it just had never occurred to me that University-educated men also go to such churches.’

 ‘What about University-educated women?’

 ‘I don’t know.  I feel like it’s harder for men to believe in miracles.  I don’t know.  I just….I just...’

 ‘Don’t worry.  I understand what you mean.  I don’t go to that church to see miracles.  My mother introduced me to it when I was a kid.  Most of my childhood friends go there.  It’s the only church I’ve ever been to and that’s where I feel at home.’

 ‘Is your mother going to be there?’  she asked, shifting nervously in her seat.

He coughed slightly.  ‘She died a few months ago.’

 ‘Ooh, sorry!’

An awkward silence prevailed until he turned unto a street with an endless line of cars parked on each side.

 ‘Are we close?’

 ‘We’re here.  I need to drive further up the street to see if  I can find a spot to park.’

 ‘Are all these people here for the church?’ she asked, pointing from side to side at the parked cars they were passing.

 ‘Most of them.  Yes.’

 ‘Wow!  No wonder they have doctors in their congregation.  I wouldn’t be surprised if General Akuffo himself attended this church.’

It seemed to be a special occasion.  There were ceremonial flags all around and a couple of tents hd been erected to accommodate those who didn’t get room in the main auditorium, which she thought was really huge.  The church she attended with her mother back home was not half the size of this one and yet there was always room enough for everybody.  Sometimes, too much room.  Harold was ushered into the main auditorium while she was given a seat under one of the tents.  Introductory congregational prayer was in progress so she placed her purse on her seat and lifted her hands up as she poured her heart out to God.

Keyboard music began to play lightly on the PA system.  It was a worship song she knew and loved.  Gradually, the entire congregation joined in.  Other instruments joined in.  She was filled with emotion.  Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

The sermon was preached by an elderly gentleman called Pastor Sharp.  His accent sounded like someone who had lived in either Britain or the United States for a long time.  He attempted to clarify the parable of the Prodigal Son, admonishing the congregation not to see new converts as ‘guests’ but rather as siblings who are  ‘joint heirs’ in the Heavenly Kingdom.

Pastor Sharp ended his sermon with a prayer.  While the prayer was going on, Emilia felt a gentle touch on her back.  She opened her eyes and saw ushers picking people out of the congregation.  The usher who had picked her motioned to her to follow the others who had been selected.  It was a long line that snaked through the congregation onto the porch of an adjoining section of the church building that looked like a residence.  Benches and chairs were arranged on the porch for her and those who had been selected like her.  The line led up to a set of double doors.  The person closest to the double doors went in, came back and motioned the next person in, like they do in front of a doctor’s consulting room.

After what seemed like an eternity, Enilia finally went through the double doors.  It seemed like a normal living room with yellow curtains and white valances that blocked out the sunlight.  The room was lit by white light bulbs and candles.  The smell of ‘florida water’ and ‘holy oil’ hung in the air.  A gentleman dressed in flowing white robes and a white head dress sat in the middle of a couch to the left of the ouble doors.  A dining chair with a cushioned seat stood directly in front of him.  Two pastors stood behind the couch, one on either side of the gentleman on the couch.  All three men motioned her to the chair.  She sat down.  The man in the white robes put his hand on her forehead and said a prayer.

 The Holy Spirit tells me that you have a very bright future.  The Lord will honor you.  Your mother and your sister are lookng for you...’

 ‘I have no sister!’ she interrupted.

 ‘But that is the message I’m getting.  I’m just a messenger,’ he said.  

One of the pastors behind him came round with olive oil, dipped a finger in it and drew a sign of the cross with it on her forehead.  He then pointed her to the double doors and went back to take his position behind the founder of the church.

Harold was standing at the foot of the stairs of the porch when she came out.

 ‘You got to meet The Prophet,’ he said.  She thought he looked very handsome in the traditional cloth.  He held out his hand to help her down the stairs.  She looked into his face.  She thought he had a nice smile.  But why is he keping his hair so bushy? she thought.  And those side burns, too.  She took his hand and descended the stairs gently, careful not to twist her ankle on her high heels.

 ‘I want you to come and meet my sisters.’

 ‘Sisters?  You never mentioned that you have siblings!’

 ‘Emilia, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we met.’

 ‘I’m sorry.  Feels like I’ve known you for a long time.’

‘I don’t blame you.  Me too.  How did your meeting with The Prophet go?’

 ‘Not very well.  He thought I have a sister.  I told him I don’t.’

 ‘Maybe he was referring to a cousin or a niece.’

‘He told me my mother and my sister are looking for me.’

 ‘Well, at least he knew you weren’t with your mother.’

 ‘But that’s a very wide window.  My mom and my sister could be here in this church right now and can still be looking for me.  I don’t think that’s very prophetic...’

 ‘Let’s talk about this later,’ he mumbled.  ‘My sisters won’t appreciate you saying that about The Prophet.’

He stopped in front of two women whose kaba and slit were made out of very expensive Dutch textile.  Although the design and material were different, they were similar in quality.  Their style and manner reminded her of Aunt Elsie.  ‘They’ve got class!’ she thought.

 ‘Emilia, my sisters, Dede and Naki,’ he said, pointing to each woman as he mentioned her name.

 

 ‘How are you?’  Dede asked in Ga as she held out her hand.  Emilia took her hand but looked up to Harold as if she didn’t understand the greeting.  She understood but she couldn’t carry a full conversation in Ga.

 ‘I said how are you.  Why, don’t you speak Ga?’

 ‘Unfortunately, I don’t.’

 ‘Tell him to teach you,’ Naki said when it was her turn to shake Emilia’s hand.  ‘What language do you speak apart from English?’

 ‘I’m from the Volta Region.’

 ‘Hey da-avi!  You must teach me your language so that when I go to buy red-red I can get a lot more for my money,’ Naki joked.

 ‘Don’t worry.  Let me know whenever you want to eat red-red.  I will cook it for you.’

 ‘Did you enjoy the service?’  Dede asked.

 ‘I did.’

 ‘She even got to meet The Prophet!’  Harold said excitedly.

 ‘Wow!’  his sisters said in unison.

Emilia maintained a straight face, trying not to give away her disappointment.

 ‘Well, I have to take Da-avi home,’ Harold said, walking away from his sisters.  ‘Regards to the old man.’

 ‘You see him more than we do although we live in the same house with him, Naki said.  ‘Hey, your nephew says he wants one of your tv sets since you hardly watch tv.’

 ‘All right.’

 ‘When should he come?’

 ‘Tell him to call me at the hospital.’

 ‘When are you going to fix the phone in your house?’

Harold laughed as he took Emilia’s hand and hurried towards his car.

 ‘Why are you laughing,’  Emilia asked.  ‘She asked you a question.’

 ‘Don’t mind them.  They stay too long on the phone so my father cut the line in his house.  If I repair mine, they won’t give me any privacy.  They’re both married.  They should go and live with their husbands.’

 ‘Maybe your father needs someone to cook for him.’

 ‘That’s exactly what they said but it’sbeen six months.’