*Kwame Asante*

"I'm having a hard time keeping this tripod steady. Will you give me a hand?"

Rolling up the sleeves of my hoodie, I walked up to Arturo and helped him stabilize the camera in the beach sand.

"Thanks, man," Arturo smiled, getting down to business. "This is awesome. Can you see the height on those waves? It looks like a wall of water, perfect for surfing. We never see anything like this in California; it's incredible." He turned to his camera, capturing the artistry of Mother Nature.

It was around ten in the morning. Arturo had insisted I come with him to a location shoot at Kokrobite. He'd read in a magazine that the beaches here offered extraordinary wave heights, and being the surfing noob he was, he wanted to see it live. Since the festival had come to a close and we didn't have anything scheduled for today except to pack and get ready for our departure tomorrow, I decided to join him. Plus, I wanted a distraction from everything that had happened last night. We asked for a van and a driver from the hotel and arrived at our destination a few minutes before twelve noon.

As I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, I looked up at the sky. The afternoon sun wasn't as hot as usual, probably because of the gray, smoky clouds lingering around. Their presence suggested rain, but we were in the middle of November. Chances of rain were pretty low here in Ghana.

The sound of a received text chimed in my pocket and I pulled my phone out.

Dayton: Hey, just wanted to let you know that Delores is awake and she's fine. The doctors said we can take her back to the hotel this afternoon.

"Thank God." I was so worried that I released a heavy sigh of relief.

"What is it?" Arturo asked, tilting his camera to the side to grab another shot of an incoming wave.

"It's Delores. Dayton just texted me that she's awake now. The doctors said she can return to the hotel this afternoon."

"Aw, that's great." Arturo smiled. "This will give you guys the chance to talk and, you know, clear the air."

I simply shook my head. "Regardless of the fact that I saved her, I don't think it's going to change anything between us."

"Are you kidding?" My friend gave me a stern look. "You just saved her from the most harrowing experience of her life! Things are definitely bound to change. With your actions, you just proved that you really care about her and are willing to push boundaries just to protect her. This is hardcore evidence that if there's anyone who loves her to the moon and back, it's you. If Delores doesn't see that, then..." he shrugged, "she must be blind to love."

A beat of silence occurred.

"She might be blind to love, but that's her decision to make." I pushed my hands into my hoodie pockets. "Whether things change or not, I'm not going to force myself on her. I'll leave everything in Delores' hands. If she decides to have me, fine. I'll be there for her every step of the way. If not, life still moves on, right?"

Arturo released a solemn sigh before turning back to his camera. "Right. But if I were you, I'd keep an eye on that animal, Orell. Something tells me that he's not going to give up that easily."

"Yeah, I know. That's why in addition to Delores', I also pressed charges against him. His employers in Atlanta have already heard everything, and the Ghana High Commission, in collaboration with the police and the tourism authority, are working on having him deported for good. Orell isn't getting out of this unscathed. His career as a radio presenter is basically over."

"Good," Arturo remarked. "No one should be listening to that imbecile on the airwaves."

"Hello." Our van driver cut into our conversation. Thomas, a gentleman who appeared to be in his late twenties, held up a hand in salute. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you had all the pictures you needed. A storm seems to be fast approaching and I need to get you back to the hotel safely."

Now that he'd mentioned it, I suddenly became conscious of the quick change in weather. The sun and the blue sky had disappeared behind the thick gray clouds threatening to unleash an upsurge of water, and it didn't take long before the drizzles made an appearance.

"Arturo, we need to go, now." I pulled up my hood and picked up his equipment bag. "This storm doesn't look friendly at all."

"Hang on." He held up a hand. "I'll just get a few more aaand... done! Let's go." Shutting down the camera, Arturo plucked it off the tripod stand and followed me as we quickly lugged the equipment into the van and sat in. Arturo rode shotgun while I settled on the first seat at the back.

Slowly, Thomas set the vehicle in motion, steering us off the now soaked beach sand and onto the tarred road, which was now slick with water.

"Shouldn't we just park somewhere till the rain stops?" I suggested. "The road looks very slippery."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir." Thomas gazed at me briefly from the rearview mirror. "Before joining you, I received instructions from Didi to have you back at the hotel before two p.m, and it's one-forty-three."

"I don't think it's a big deal if we drive through the rain." Arturo crossed his arms in his seat. "We're not the only ones on the road, plus the sooner we return to the hotel, the earlier we get to see Delores. You are eager to see her, right?" He shot me a look over his shoulder.

"I guess." A shrug settled in my shoulders as I leaned into my seat, trying to ignore the itty-bitty drop of anxiety lingering in my system. I didn't know how she was going to receive me, and that made me a bit uncomfortable.

Arturo must've sensed it because he soon offered a distraction, "Let's check what's on the radio. Maybe we can get some awesome tunes to listen to." His hand fidgeted with the dial.

As the rain poured down in torrents, I sat in the back, gazing at the blurred world through the rain-splattered window. I could make out the silhouettes of the palm trees lining both sides of the road. Cars occasionally whizzed past us, some splashing water on our vehicle.

The distant rumble of thunder sent shivers down my spine, but those shivers soon faded away when the soulful tunes of Bob Marley's 'No Woman, No Cry' wafted out of the speakers.

"I didn't know Ghanaians were into reggae music," Arturo remarked as the music continued to play in the background. "All this time, I thought Highlife and Afrobeats were your go-to kind of music."

Thomas replied, "They are, but a number of us still have a soft spot for the magic reggae carries. A friend of mine runs an Afro-Jamaican bar in the heart of Osu, and the only music they play is reggae from Bob Marley, Lucky Dube, Jimmy Cliff, Reggie Rockstone, Blakk Rasta, I could go on and on."

"Wow, that sounds amazing. I'd love to visit your friend's bar sometime."

"Sure. Just say when and I'll pick you up." Thomas beamed.

Their friendly chat gave me a bit of relief from the ever-present thunderclaps as we cruised down the road. Then, in an instant, a deafening crack split the air, and a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the scene. My heart jumped as a massive palm tree, once standing tall, collapsed directly onto the road.

"Look out!" I yelled.

Thomas' first instinct was to swerve, but it was too late. With a bone-jarring thud, the side of the van collided with the fallen tree, sending shockwaves and broken glass flying into the van.

In that moment of chaos, all I felt was pain. Something had lodged itself into my thigh. I couldn't move, and I could hardly see Arturo and Thomas.

Dizziness lured me into darkness as the cracking sounds of Bob Marley's song faded away.

******