A Mad Man's Clause

6| The Giant Leap

Six years of memories and experiences in the fascinating country of Ghana; and all Henry had to show for them was sealed in an 18" by 16" brown card box perched on the floor. He had spent less than twenty minutes packing. It was standard protocol really, for him. He was always fully prepared to move the moment he made the decision. Everything deemed irrelevant was donated to charity and because he made no friends or acquaintances, acts of farewell lost their significance. This time was no different.

He stood still, staring at the exact same view he had grown accustomed to from the glass window of his study. It wasn't at all spectacular but it drew him in− the monotony of it; a never changing kaleidoscope of green, red, blue and yellow, colours that made up the exterior of the matching apartment building on the opposite side, separated by a haven of greenery. On occasional moments, he experienced a rare break like now− the great orange sun pushing out slowly behind the morning mist, her rays bouncing against glass walls. A small smile tugged at the ends of his lips as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, appreciating the farewell gift he had been blessed with.

When his feet grunted in protest against the long period of immobility, he turned away from the window to the empty sanctuary that housed him on his best and worst days. Despite that fact, he wasn't going to miss a shred of anything, physical or emotion-wise. A trip down memory lane was meaningless. He took in the empty space once more with rote indifference, picked up his box and walked out the room.

A soft ding halted his steps. Balancing the box on his left arm, he reached for the source, pulling out a black digital pager from the pocket of his brown trousers. His ride was here, he deduced after a quick glance at the screen. He resumed his journey and branched into the clearing that was once the living room. Once again he stopped, taking in the petite woman planted in the middle, a leather bag strapped on her back and her fingers wrapped around the long handle of a blue suitcase. His scrutiny this time was somewhat merited. She looked different from how she did the night before.

"You cut your hair." There was no surprise in his observation. On contrary, he had been expecting it. Experience taught him that people associated a change in appearance as a catapult into whatever new venture they thrust themselves in.

Self-conscious, she ran her left hand across her shaven head and asked, "Is it bad?"

He shook his head, closing the distance between them, "No. We should go. Our ride is here." He didn't stop but sidestepped her, heading out the door. Mai glanced round the apartment once more, mentally placing previous items that occupied the room. She would miss this place. Taking a deep breath, she memorized very inch of the space before heading out after Henry.

A sleek black Honda Civic was parked in front of the entrance in the lot, a casually dressed middle aged man leaning on it. He straightened as soon he saw them, a smile gracing his features. "Good morning!" he greeted as he moved over to take the box from Henry who waved him off, gesturing towards Mai instead. He caught on immediately and reached for her suitcase. Mai obliged and watched from the side as they placed the items in the trunk. They hit the road right after.

An ensuing silence engulfed the tiny space, each caught in their clandestine thought. The city slumbered on; unaware of the life altering journey they were about to embark. Mai stared out the window, committing to memory, every stop, every billboard and even the two women huddled between boxes of fresh tomatoes behind a small truck. It was uncertain when or if she would return. When seeing was no longer enough, she rolled down the glass, sticking out her head partially. She inhaled deeply, wondering if it was possible to store up the smell of fresh Accra morning air in her memory bank. The breeze embraced her as if bidding her farewell. She would remember, she was sure of it.

Her tirade halted as a very familiar building, looming in the distance drew closer each minute. Images of her once happy but recent dreary past immediately assaulted her senses with painful clarity, each one affirming a truth she refused to acknowledge. She wasn't leaving−she was escaping. The glass window slowly pushed up, forcing her back inside the confines of the car. It failed to shield her from the large mall building but it did abate her descent into despair. She turned to look at Henry, gratitude gleaming in her dark eyes.