The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (34 page)

BOOK: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
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He told the bartender of the day’s proceedings, as a host of hotel employees obviously familiar with the plight of young Alex gathered around to hear the story. When he finished, they cheered him and hugged him as if he’d just finished pitching the seventh and deciding game of the World Series. Drinks were on the house and after several gin and tonics, he staggered his way back to the villa, which now seemed miles away and collapsed on his bed. Fatigue from anxiety was setting in but before it had a chance to truly manifest itself, the phone rang.

“William, it’s me, Melinda. Whatcha’ doin’, baby? How did the presentation g°?”

William replayed the day’s events with little emotion this time.

“I’m so proud of you, William. I knew you could do it. By the way, Mr. Davis called. He thinks he has a buyer for the house. If you agree on the price, we can close tomorrow. The only problem he foresees is that the buyer wants to move in immediately. Should I hire a mover or wait until you get back?”

“By all means, hire a mover. Hell, put the furniture in storage. I guess 1 can find a room or stay at the Radisson until we or better yet,
I
find a place.” William hoped Melinda would offer her home until he found a place of his own. He was surprised when she didn’t acknowledge or offer to let him stay with her.

There was a knock at the door.”Gotta go, Melinda. Handle things, baby. See you soon.”

“Good night, William.” Melinda said, hanging up the phone.

William couldn’t figure it out Melinda was still as efficient as ever. Yet there were no more sexual innuendos. She hadn’t even mentioned the fact that she loved him or missed him for that matter. Something was definitely amiss. The last time he’d left a woman alone he’d been robbed blind. And now he’d given Melinda the power-of-attorney and she was acting strange and out of sorts. He had little time to dwell on the sudden change in Melinda’s attitude. Whoever was knocking at the door was not taking no for an answer. William crawled out of the bed and hurried to the door.

At the door stood Alex’s mother and six of her eight children. All were teary-eyed. “Tell me it is true, Mr. William. Tell me you have arranged for my husband and my children to come home. Tell me, it is true, Mr. William. Tell me they are coming home.”

Alex’s mother was accompanied by the old woman from the village, the bartender and a host of other people until it appeared that the whole village had descended upon William’s villa. There were many tears and as many hugs but not quite so many as when the Secretary entered followed by Alex, his father and little sister. Alex’s mother held William’s hand, thanking him over and over again.

Alex’s gratitude was unquestionable but talking with Alex, one thing was immediately apparent; the nine-year-old’s innocence was gone. In its place had grown hatred and bitterness. The laughter in His eyes was gone. Unlike the tears of joy, which flooded William’s suite, Alex cried out in anger. The nine-year-old little boy William had become so enamored of, the little boy he had fought so hard to have freed, was no more. The rite of passage paved with hardship and injustice had forced nine year old Alex into manhood. Gone was the easy smile. Gone was the quick wit and bubbling spontaneity. He now appeared burdened, mired in deep thought no nine year old should be saddled with.

“May I leave with you, Mr. William?” Alex inquired when he finally got the chance to talk to William alone.

“Why, Alex? What about you family?” William asked, nonplussed.

“I can no longer help my family. The government says I can no longer work. Now, I am but another mouth to feed,” Alex said sadly.

“Let’s enjoy the evening, Alex. We can talk about this some more tomorrow. I think you may change your mind,” William said, feigning a smile when he thought of what was in store for the youngster.

After speaking for a good part of the evening with Alex’s family and the old woman, William excused himself from the homecoming celebration. He ordered enough blankets and pillows for everyone there instead of having them take the twenty mile trek so late at night. He then retired to his bedroom where he found Alex already asleep in his bed.

Early the next morning, William put Alex and his family into the limousine. He then piled into a government truck with what seemed like half the village now and headed for the hills. An hour later, they arrived at the home of a former government official who had been kidnapped and later killed in a failed
coup.
The nine-bedroom home was beautiful. Maintained by the government, it was now used mainly for retreats or a hideaway for top government officials and their mistresses.

The family, who had no idea that William had arranged the purchase of the home as part of a business deal, were thrilled beyond belief No longer would they have to go to the river of water or worry about flooding during the season of the heavy rains. Now those that could read would have more time to teach those who could not. No longer would they have to cook their food over an open pit. Neither would they have to worry if there was food enough for all. And although it was not a part of the village, they were close enough to visit when they saw it safe to. Not once that day did Alex ask about leaving. The smile William had grown so accustomed to returned to Alex’s face as he ran from room to room with His brothers and sisters, flicking light switches off and on. When they grew tried of that, they played with the faucets, flushed the toilets and did all of the things children given a free rein will do. Again, they embraced William, thanking him, repeatedly for all he’d done and begged him to stay. Unable to, he promised to return the following day to help them get settled into their new home.

Once back at the villa, William signed the contract and sent it by courier to the office of the Secretary. He called William upon receipt. He then taxed a copy of the signed contract to Ol’ Man Morris and one to Melinda to be put in the files. Later that afternoon, William met with both Secretary and the Prime Minister, General Mfume to discuss a particular clause in the contract. William and Secretary Oluwola had already discussed the escape clause, William had only recently begun adding to His contracts over the past six months.

Oluwola thought it best to inform the General. This done, William added fifty thousand to Alex’s trust fund in the name of Hill and Morris as Mr. Morris had instructed him to do in their last meeting. This would only allow Alex but several of his brothers and sister to attend school. William made it a point to let both of Alex’s parents know that should a crisis ever occur like the one that just transpired the money was to be used to alleviate any suffering. The money, William explained, could be replaced. Their lives, however, couldn’t be.

Now that it was not imperative that the children work, he sought their parents’ permission to enroll them in school. William had some difficulty understanding Alex’s mother’s reluctance but after a good deal of pressure from all sides, she finally relented and agreed to send all but the two youngest who were needed to aid her in the upkeep of this big house.

With that in order, William paid the tuition for seven students for the next two years, including their uniforms at a Catholic school, which was recommended by Mr. Oluwola, and run by Jesuit priests. When that was completed, William met with officials from the U.S. Embassy, under the guise of being an American businessman in a foreign country concerned with the exorbitant tariffs on imports. He then conducted the final and perhaps most important meeting of his five day trip.

Davenport met William at three o’clock at one of Lagos’ swankier downtown restaurants. Only this time, two strong-arm men accompanied him. William started nervously as they escorted Davenport into the restaurant.

“Hello, William. It’s good to see you, son. You’re looking well.”

“Good to see you also, Mr. Davenport. Bodyguards?” William said, gesturing to the two thugs now waiting at different ends of the restaurant.

“Can’t be two careful, son. The world is becoming more and more violent every day. There have always been poor people. Now, where there is poverty there is also desperation. But you know, William there’s a difference. When I was coming up, there were poor people but they were rich in values. And they seemed to have had hope. Nowadays, values have deteriorated, and poverty and despair have increased. Frustration and desperation are commonplace. It makes leaving your home a risk Throw in Robin Leach, with his “Lifestyle’s of the Rich and Famous,’’ and now I have to be escorted by these two goons when I go to feed the ‘damn dog’.”

William laughed. Davenport didn’t seem quite so smug, so self-assured this time around. In fact, he seemed vulnerable, human—almost likeable.

“I hear the big boys loved your proposal. You’ve made quite a name for yourself, since you arrived. I hear they’re naming the library after you over at St. Martin de Porres Elementary School I also hear they’re talking about bestowing an Honorary Doctorate of Education from the university on you. Quite impressive, William. It must have been some package you dropped on them. The Ol’ Man will be quite proud, I’m sure. Congratulations, once again, William. Anytime you want to jump ship and make some real dough though, you come and see me. Tell Morris I said that.” Both men laughed.

“Thank you, sir,” William said.

“Oh, and by the way, I have a few packages I’m sending along with you to Morris. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a little something for he and the misses.”

“No problem, Mr. Davenport. Just send it with the rest of the merchandise. Everything goes straight through to corporate headquarters in Boston. They’ll see that he gets it.”

“Fine, William! Now if you’ll excuse me, I must make certain everything is ready to be shipped. It’s been good seeing you again. Have a good flight.”

He
had
him. He
had
Davenport cold. And for that matter, Morris too. Now all he had to do was get out of Lagos.
Alive.

“Thank you, sir.”

Davenport rose from the table, shook William’s hand and left. William wondered if Davenport had noticed how clammy his hands were. Beads of perspiration were forming on his brow. He was sweating profusely. Clicking off the tape recorder, he wondered if the two goons were waiting outside to check him for a wire or maybe to off him.

He left the restaurant and headed back to the villa to call Melinda.”Hey, baby. Just called to remind you to pick me up at the airport.” This was the code; William had devised to let Melinda know that everything was running according to plan.

“Will do.” It was now Melinda’s job to contact Terry Shannon and let him know that everything was on schedule.

Back in the villa William filled the Jacuzzi, poured himself another shot of Chivas Regal from the half empty bottle and laid back sipping the twelve year old scotch while doing his best to clear his mind and think of absolutely nothing. Over the past day or so, the thought of Melinda in her black evening gown kept recurring and was driving him absolutely crazy. It had gotten to the point that he could hardly keep his mind on the business at hand. There were Secretary Oluwola’s words about embarrassing a government that used brute force to quell dissension or anyone posing a threat. Now the thoughts of government officials with a signed contract in hand knocking at his door loomed large.

The combination of the warm water, and Chivas soon dispelled these thoughts and he soon found himself nodding in the warm water. Dragging himself from the relaxing, cocoon he now found himself swathed in William wrapped the long, thick, terrycloth robe around him and made his way over to the king-sized bed, bottle of Chivas and glass still in hand.

In a matter of minutes he was half asleep with not a care in the world when from somewhere distant he heard knocking. thinking he was dreaming he ignored the tapping but growing in persistence William could hardly ignore it and after he gathered that who ever it was had no intention of going away decided to answer it. Walking to the door his thoughts suddenly returned to the secretaries’ words warning him to leave the country with haste.

But by this time the whole ordeal with Alex had taken a heavy toll on William. And in conjunction with the bath and the Chivas he would have hardly cared if the whole Nigerian Army were lined up at the door.

Just the same, William checked the peephole and was shocked to see a stunning, young woman of about thirty years of age, with skin black as the sky at midnight standing there in front of him a bottle of very expensive champagne in one hand a bucket of ice and two glasses in the other. Her hair was closely cropped appearing as though she had none at all and when William opened the door to inquire as to who she may be looking for he found himself at six foot five staring directly into her eyes. He had to admit that at that moment he had never in his life and fairly extensive travels met anyone of such rare and exquisite beauty.

At any other time he would have been tongue tied in the presence of such physical beauty but the combination of the scotch and his own exhausted ness allowed him to speak freely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t offer any champagne. I believe you have the wrong room, my dear.”

It then dawned on him that she would have told him that upon seeing him and he not being whom she was expecting. And since there were no other rooms in the villa she was either way off course or there to see him. Perhaps she was just another of the grateful well-wishers from Alex’s village he thought. But then she looked like no one he’d seen in Alex’s village. The clothes she wore were of the finest material and suggested either New York or Paris. At a loss and tired of the suppositions William, did what most logical people would do in a similar situation after getting over the initial shock of having someone so striking calling on them.

“Hello. Is there something I can do for you miss?”

Replying in a voice as sultry as any William had to admit that if ever a face went with a body it was hers and he was at once enamored.

“No, there is nothing you can do for me, Mr. Stanton. It is what I can do for you. You see, my name is Naomi and I am here to simply make your last night here as pleasurable as you can ever wish for.”

BOOK: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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