CHAPTER TEN

Dedicated to nabylaisah

DAY 1
9:34am

I TURNED and began walking away wordlessly. I know I am the crazy girl with no friends. I also know I am the girl who is still single despite being beautiful. But this crazy, friendless beautiful unmarried girl is anything but stupid. I mean who the hell does he think he is and what the hell does he take me for? His puppet?

I knew Aman was a red line for me the minute our eyes met in his car. I also knew red lines aren't exactly my forte,but this, whatever it was, I don't want to get involved any further than I already was. Besides we met on a rainy day and if that isn't reason enough to stay away, nothing can.

"Wait, Reima, stop!" he called after me and I broke into a run wanting to get away from him as soon as I possibly can. I may have done a lot of crazy stuff since I met him but I am so not getting into an helicopter with him to only God knows where, not ever!

I would have kept on running if not for the hulk of a man in black suits suddenly blocking my path. He is huge and wore a mean looking scowl with his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He is a cliché of how bodyguards are suppose to look

"I'm sorry, but you will have to go back, ma'am."

I considered arguing with him, almost did, but there was something about his stance which made me question the rationale behind that. There was no mistake, he wasn't asking. And thus, unceremoniously, I turned and began walking dejectedly. This is a lost war.

Aman was where I had left him and I felt bad that he hadn't gone after me after his halfhearted attempt to call after me. He could have but he hadn't and I hated him more for that. How could he awaken such mundane emotions from me and yet remain unchanged? This is just not fair.

"Please get in the helicopter," he pleaded softly no doubt trying not to hurt me more but it was too late for that. I was already hurt and I was tired of hurting.

I've been hurting for awhile now.

Perhaps that was why I did what he asked with no further tantrums and with no sign of irritation. I was simply tired of all the thinking, wondering and fighting.

It was all my fault anyway; my accident, my father, my lack of friends, Irfan. . ., everything and I am tired of being scared and blaming myself for everything and nothing. And so like a zombie, I got in, sat and did whatever he asked of me before the takeoff and when we were up, I let myself recharge again clinging to the last remnant of strength I had. I will never let him see me weak.

Aman didn't say anything to me either but from time to time, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. I had turned once and met his gaze and for those seconds our eyes locked his eyes swam with a strange current of emotions. It was almost as if they were desperately wanting to tell me something but his lips wouldn't move and in the end he had looked away first riling me up again. I looked away damning myself for not doing it first and having him turn his back at me, again!

"It's beautiful high up here, isn't it?" He asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence breaking the ice layering a wall between us.

I glared at him. He was looking at me, staring at me as if his life depended on my agreeing to him, as if my opinion mattered. I looked away resenting him more for making me want to understand him.

"...and peaceful," he went on, ignoring my rebuff. He took a deep breath. "...and I am sorry, Reima."

I looked at him. I wasn't expecting these words from him, at least not right now and because he said them, I don't know, they just made me feel lighter but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were shut which to my amazement I found to be relieving. I didn't want to see the sincerity I had felt in those words.

Yet I wanted to ask him why he was sorry. I wanted to ask why me. I wanted to ask where we were going to and why was I  going with him. But most importantly, I wanted to ask if my ma was okay and ask when I could speak to her. But instead, I shut my eyes too. I didn't want this little moment of relief to be over.

It has been a long day!

* * *

We flew for hours but I'm not sure for how many though, I had doze on and off which of late I seem to be doing an awful lot and it was beginning to feel strange especially since I always woke to a throbbing headache.

Nevertheless, I kept trying to keep a straight face and not let my emotions show in the moments I manage to be awake which were thankfully very few. I don't think I have the energy to keep up my façade of strength.

Suddenly, the craft had landed and we had alighted to a car waiting for us. However, there was no driver. It was a red Mazda MX-5; he seem to have a carmance with this particular model. He opened the door for me and I sat, buckling my seatbelt before he'd ran over to his and began the car.

To keep myself busy, I focused my energy on where we might possibly be but there was nothing I recognized nor could use as a reference point.

We seem to be in some sort of island or a jungle or whatever a wild, beautiful place filled with trees and grasses signifies. It was a very beautiful place nevertheless but for the minutes we rode on the untarred forest path which I counted to be more or less an hour there was no settlement in view nor was there any people; at least none that had passed us or we'd come across.

I maintained my silence however not minding whether we were going to hell or not, I was already in hell.

"Aren't you going to ask me where we are?" He asked breaking the cloud of silence that had settled between us.

I looked at him surprised. He had his eyes on the road but there was something about his demeanour-he seemed calmer now but I am not sure I want to talk to him, calm or what not, but nevertheless I replied him. There's nothing I can gain from ignoring him either way. I have much to lose.

"If I asked would you tell me?

"Yes, I will." He agreed easily, sparing me a sidelong glance. His consent caught me off guard; I wasn't expecting him to keep up the conversation.

"Where are we?"

"ON an island?" He was teasing me

"Wow. I didn't know that." I mocked and he smiled and I felt my heart constrict. I find my heart and his smile was on the same wavelength.

"And we are here."

"What?" I was taken aback. My mind had wandered or was it my heart?

He pointed out the window and I found myself looking out the window. We seem to have come to the end of the road but there was nothing about here, just a dark and intimidating forest ahead. I could however hear the slams of waves close by; we were however close to water.

"And now what?

"Now we walk." he said unbuckling his seat and stepping out. He grabbed a bag from the backseat. He opened it and handed it over to me, "But I think you'll like to change into these."

I held out my hands and took the bag. It was a pair of sneakers.

"Thanks," I pulled out my legs and put them on.

They were a perfect match, just like the shoes he'd bought me earlier.

* * *

We walked in silence for a while save for the symphony of birds and crickets and other forest populace. The sun was high up in the sky, sneaking here and there in the forest.

And yet despite my bravado about not caring, I was worried. Not just about being with someone who could possibly be a serial killer for all I know, no, but about what my ma must be going through; all alone with no family to offer her comfort. Yes, alone, because I know for a fact that Uncle Audu and the whole Nasidi clan do not care what happens to me or my ma - this wouldn't be the first time they had proved how right I was.

My ma has no family. Dad had found her in an orphanage in Kaduna when he'd visited with grandpa. He was eighteen at that time. Ma was fifteen and the oldest in the orphanage. It was the year grandpa was showing dad all he owned and supported.

It was a flighty courtship; barely a week, they got married a week after they met and he had brought her home to Katsina much to the dismay of his stepmother and all of grandpa's relatives; my papa was the golden boy of the Nasidi clan, and each and every family member who had marriageable daughters had already began pegging them to him. His marriage to my ma had ruined that and had enforced further the deterioration of an already strained relationship.

My grandfather, Alhaji Nuhu Nasidi, was a very wealthy man but it wasn't always like that. Grandpa was an orphan. He had lost his parents to a cholera epidemic that had plagued their village when he was thirteen. Since then, he'd had to fend for himself, working harder than most because of his neglectful and spiteful relatives.

Grandpa hailed from a village in Katsina state called Koza. It is a ward in Mai'adua local government. The local government area is bounded to the north and east by the Republic of Niger, to the south-east by Zango local government area, to the south by Sandamu and Daura local government areas, and to the west by Mashi local government area. Sometimes, grandpa's business took him to the Republic of Niger which was where fate would have him choose a bride. And that was where the problem lies.

Grandpa's business, by the grace of God, had flourished beyond expectations and now he found he was suddenly in the good grace of his relatives. He was advised by them to take a wife from within the family - to foster relationship between the family members, they had argued, but it hadn't quite work that way. Perhaps he had been reluctant considering the storm he'd seen brewing within the clan, or perhaps it was simply fate, but whatever the reason, grandpa's bride was destined to be someone from a very faraway place.

Falmata, my grandma, is a very beautiful woman from the famous Buzu tribe in Niger. She was very kind and patient despite the hatred and contempt showered upon her by grandpa's relatives. They accused her of witchcraft; of bewitching their kin which only worsened as they watched their love bloom, especially when she put to bed a year later, giving birth to my dad who looked exactly like her. Grandpa dotted on my dad as if he wasn't the first born; it was customary among the Fulani to show indifference to one's first child due to shyness. He would be seen playing with him at all times and when he was old enough to walk, he tagged along him to wherever he went.

However, like all good things, grandpa's world came crashing down when he lost grandma during childbirth seven years after my dad was born. He was simply inconsolable. And not only did his health suffer, but his business too. He simply gave up on those things he'd once loved; my dad included. However he was able to pull through. Perhaps it was because he feared what he saw; his neglected son; dirty and hungry, perhaps he feared it could be much worse. Whatever the reason though, he straightened out himself and was almost back on track when something unexpected and unpleasant presented itself.

Mar-

"Uhm...your mom left you a message." Aman's voice slit through the fabric of my thoughts. I stopped, looking at him. He was busy taking something out of his pocket. It was a phone, my phone. He handed it to me.

Wordlessly, I scrolled on the phone. There was no network. At a loss on what to do with the phone, I looked up at him. I didn't know he had the time to grab my phone amidst that chaos.

Which means he knew you will follow him. Just who the hell is he?

"You can call her later."

"I can?" I was skeptical.

"Why not?" He looked genuinely puzzled that I thought I couldn't which was puzzling to me. Why would he be puzzled? That was my cue.

"For starters, you abducted me from my house, forced me to give up my clothes; my freedom, forced me into an airplane and brought me to a deserted island, does that sound normal to you?"

"I guess not," He seemed amused and the fact that I was his object of amusement doesn't sit well with me. I found that I wanted to be something more and I hated that even more. I should hate him, logic dictated that, why then was this gorgeous Fulani man with unsettling amber eyes stirring something much deeper within me?

Why?

"We need to keep on walking," he called. He was already walking away.

I hissed and shake my head.

If there was one thing I was very certain of, it was that I would never like this ill-mannered, self-gratifying pervert.

Never!