Chapter 14
3:35pm July 6, Accra, Ghana
It was another blistering hot day with no reprieve in sight. The phone rang loudly in Margaret’s bag. She and Ceci were on what they called a fact-finding mission – essentially a shopping trip - and they had stopped to take a break outside CuppaChill, a snack bar not far from Makola market. She looked at the number on her caller I.D and it said ‘unknown number’. She normally wouldn’t pick it up but she hadn’t had a phone call all day…maybe it was Sarah.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is that Auntie Maggie?”
“Yes. Yes. May I know who is speaking?”
“Auntie Maggie its Jason. Jason Arthur-Beck.”
“JAY-SON?”
“Yes, Jason.”
The line went dead.
3:38pm July 6 Oakville, Canada
The phone rang loudly at 208 Georgia Drive in Oakville. Sarah had her baby Jason snuggled on her bosom and so she reached out with one hand to pick up the handset.
“Hello, Arthur – Beck residence, Sarah speaking.”
“Sarah, its me!”
“Who? Sarah’s voice wavered just a fraction.
“Jason, its Jason! And I’m coming home. How is Philip?”
The line went dead.
3:40 pm July 6 Oakville, Canada
Sarah lay on the couch with baby Jason on her bosom. Her eyes seemed to be boring through the ceiling.
Brrrrrr! Brrrrr! Brrrrr!
She didn’t pick up and waited for it to go to the answering machine. She could always delete it while she figured out a course of action.
“Sarah, Sarah, pick up that phone!!! He’s alive, he’s alive ohhhhhh. Call me quickly.” The call ended and Sarah sighed.
“What now mother?”
Chapter 15
July 6, 2011, Kwasikrom, Ghana
It was festival time in KwasiKrom and all around the town, men, women, and children made their way through the streets of the town, greeting one another and enquiring after various family members. After the festivities, some would make their way towards the prayer camp and others, back to their ramshackle dwellings. Mensah had become quite a regular fixture at this prayer camp ever since his mistress had received the blessing she’d prayed for and had no use for the place. He’d also been nursing a request and if Auntie Maggie - devious as she was could bend God’s ear, there was no reason why he, a pious, church going man who regularly gave to the poor – even though he considered himself poor – could not receive a blessing also. On this particular day, all the blind, deaf, and mute had been taken to a larger tented area while the insane and their relatives were still being asked to stay in the original deliverance tent. He again stood on the edges of the throng, observing with his keen darting eyes. A tall young woman was walking towards the tent for the insane…but she didn’t look insane. Her hair was short and her neck held her head the way a fish seller’s head would hold her tray of tilapia. On her back was a baby and as she walked, she used her hands to tap the baby’s bottom gently to quiet him down. As she moved closer to where Mensah stood, he noticed something unusual; the baby had mixed race features and wore a red bracelet on his ankle on which was drawn a maple leaf. The young woman was also holding the hand of a boy – also mixed race - who was no more than three years old.
“Praise the Lord!” said the prophet.
“Halleluyah!” shouted everyone
“Today, you have come to the right place. In the house of God, there is fullness of joy. Raise your hands to the heavens and claim your deliverance. Pray! Pray! Pray!”
And with that command, loud voices were raised to heaven. One asking for her brother to be delivered of the demons tormenting him and causing him to bite off pieces of his skin; Another asking for her sister to be healed of the need to constantly bang her head against a wall; Still another beseeched the Lord to cure her mother of her witchcraft. All the prayers were being said for people who were also at the prayer camp, incapacitated as it were by an impossible affliction.
Except for one.
“Dear God, please keep Jason safe, wherever he is.”
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