Ex Gratia (#1 EX TRILOGY)

Chapter 24

Akoma woke up with a start at dawn the next day and rubbed her eyes, wondering what had disturbed her alcohol induced sleep. She squinted in the dark hotel room and saw her phone’s screen lit and ringing on the floor below the bed. She yawned and crawled out of bed onto the floor to pick the phone up. Without checking who it was, she answered. “Yes? It’s 2am. Adɛn? Why?"

“Akoma.” It was Rich. “Is this a good time to talk?”

“No. Bye,” Akoma said while yawning and cut the line. Just before she could return to her sleep, the phone rang again and she growled and banged the mattress angrily with her fist. She picked the call again and asked, “What is it? It’s really late. Can’t I sleep?”

“Look, I am sorry. I just need you to stay with me and let’s talk briefly. I promise not to pester you again.”

“What is it?”

Rich sighed. “Honestly, I found the visit awkward. I didn’t think you’d ever find me or want to see me again.”

“I had to, because I needed to agree to the divorce.”

Rich kept silent shortly before replying, “Do you really want it?”

Akoma frowned. “Heh! Have you been sent? You know – for the record – this is the most – I don’t know what to call it – the most self-deluded question I have ever heard from you in a long time. How does it appear you seem to be so unaffected and I – “. She bit her lip and clenched a fist to control her emotions, especially to keep herself from crying on phone. She took a deep quivering breath. “It’s not your fault, Rich,” she said with her eyes closed.

“I am beginning to suspect that everything back there in my living room was an act. I was so sure I could see right through it.”
That was enough to crack Akoma again, and the next move did not have to be suggested. She simply ended the call and blacklisted him in few steps, and then finally she placed the phone on her lap and leaned her head back onto the edge of the bed. ‘Ender,’ she thought, and when the phone rang and she checked the screen, it was her. She was getting used to this already.

“How are you?” Ender asked.

Akoma blinked. “Do you even care?”

“No. I asked because people normally do.”

“You’re not normal.”

“Thanks.”

“Always.”

“Good. Your next assignment is in a package at Asafo VIP Bus station. You will receive a phone call from the parcel office in less than five minutes telling you to come for a parcel. You will leave the hotel prepared for a trip to Accra. I will call you when you get there.”

“What’s written on the package?”

“Your name and telephone number.”

Akoma whined and stretched. “But it’s too early, and the weather is cold. Gosh. Don’t I ever get rest?”

Ender was silent for a moment, and Akoma could tell that what followed was not going to be nice. “Your mother.”

Akoma rolled her eyes. “When is this going to end?”

“Why do you think I am called Ender? It ends when I say so.”

Akoma sighed and ruffled her hair with her hands. “OK. I will take a shower and get going.”
Ender ended the call, and the parcel office called informing her of a package in her name she was to pick up at the office. Akoma quickly took a shower, got some few clothes and set off for the bus station.

*******

The package was a box wrapped in white paper this time but with her name and number on it as usual. She was directed by Ender to open it and read out what was on the card.

“’Would you love you Ex?’” Akoma read out loud and shook her head. “Ex Gratia is a really twisted organization. What business do I have loving the same man who ditched me for nothing? Pointless assignment.” She dropped the card back into the box.

“It’s not pointless to me,” Ender said calmly. “I will be surprised if you make sense out of anything I am paying you for. My assessment of your reasoning is – 3 – on a scale of 1-10.”

“What?”

“Don’t take offence. I have spared you. Did you interact with any of the service providers?”

“Yes. All of them. Robby’s restaurant and the décor lady are in Kumasi. The fashion designer is in Accra. I know where she is.”

“That’s where you are going.”

“Why not the Kumasi folk first?” Akoma asked. Ender cleared her throat and Akoma raised her eyebrows, reminding herself that Ender was rather in charge. She got onto the bus and waited for it to take off at 4:30am.

The bus ride was a quiet and lonely one. Akoma had time to reflect on a few things in her life, but most importantly how her entire life, her freedom, her morality, her bearings in life had become hinged to this ex gratia thing. She had finally ended things with Rich, and felt that there was nothing else to be done. She found herself asking questions: what connection did the second assignment have with Rich? The first was clearer, but not this one. She was travelling to Accra just to meet a fashion designer for unknown reasons. What good would a meeting with a restaurant owner or décor specialist do to justify her silently waning quest for revenge? And then the pictures of Gracefield on Rich’s phone – something about the poses did not look too right, but Akoma was obliged to let it go because Rich had claimed they were friends.

Friends? Rich had been named ‘Rich Bae’ on her phone. Could it be that there was something between them she was not aware of? Could this have been the only thing Rich was honest about? She tried Gracefield’s line and found it unreachable. She assumed she had really left for Belgium indeed. She silently pushed those suspicions to archives for later scrutiny.