BURNT OUT VII

 

 It was on one of these days that he had an unexpected call. When he picked the call, he realized it was from Pokua. 

***************

“Hi, my name is Pokua. Am I speaking with George, please?” said the female voice on the line.

As Pokua introduced herself on the line, only one image kept flashing through George’s mind; the image of an exuberant Pokua, hugging everyone in her path. Had he not met the girl and heard her speak in person, he might have mistaken her for an American for real.

“Hello, Pokua. Hope everything is cool?”

“Yeah, everything is just peachy. Thought I’d give you a call and thank you once again for my sister, you know.”

“Okay. No thanks necessary. How is your sister by the way?”

“She’s cool. I kinda have a confession to make though. I didn’t just call to say thanks.” Well why doesn’t that surprise me?

“I think I owe you lunch or dinner or whatever. Just thought I’d pay my dues.” There was so much wrong with that suggestion. The least of which is the fact that the girl has a car and he doesn’t, George thought to himself. With the current Esther situation however, he needed a diversion so he just played along.

“Pokua, you do realize Kasoa is at the other side of the world where Accra is concerned, don’t you? Needless to say it has its own traffic system?” he asked, a part of him wanting to discourage this new alliance before it even started.

“Oh, yeah. That would be a problem though, if I lived in Kasoa. I don’t. I’m at East Legon, presently.” The girl seemed cool enough. She looked like one who would be open-minded and he was sure he was not going to get bored with her around so what could be holding him back? With that reasoning, he agreed on an outing. They decided to meet in front of the Accra Mall and take it from there. After hanging up, he realized he hadn’t featured such an expense on his budget. Making such unplanned withdrawals from his account wasn’t a good idea but he had already agreed to the said outing so he decided to just wing it. They were supposed to meet in three days time and his new headache was how to keep up with such an obviously high maintenance girl.

A day to the date, he had the most amazing news he’d had in a long while. He was called back by a firm which had interviewed him earlier on in the month. He had a job. As a project coordinator, his job for the firm’s particular form of projects involved moving around a lot so he was entitled to a Toyota pick-up truck. He would have to wait about a month for the truck to be available since it was part of a consignment the company was expecting, he was told. He was to start work the following Monday.

So when George and Pokua finally met at the mall, he wasn’t as concerned with his dwindling accounts as he was three days back, for though there hasn’t been any deposits into the account lately, he expected that to soon change.

Pokua was a sight to behold. She had on skinny jeans with a sleeveless, low-cut, fitting top made from a material that looked like it was crocheted together. The blouse barely touched the waistline of her jeans, leaving a sliver of her skin showing around her midriff. For her hair, she had on braids. Very long and finely plaited braids held together to form three larger corn-roll-like tresses. As if she wasn’t satisfied with the male glances she was getting, she had on high heels which did nothing but draw attention to how long and slender her legs looked. As soon as George laid eyes on her, the only thing he said to himself was a reminder of what a bad idea this whole outing was.

When she made him walking towards her, she ran and gave him a hug as if they had been friends forever. The fragrance that wafted through his nostrils when she hugged him was one he would soon not forget.

She suggested they grab a bite before deciding on what to do next. They both had a sandwich and some kind of cocktail drink the restaurant was serving.

“So, I’m sorry for being so pushy about this whole thing and putting you on the spot like that. My boyfriends hate that about me. And that is over-sharing, sorry.” Pokua said. George reassured her that he didn’t mind. They talked about their lives and he got to know that Pokua was an understudy manager in her father’s hotel, which so happens to be a prestigious one too. She had two elder brothers and a younger sister, her accent was the result of the schools she’s attended, right there in Accra. She had travelled a bit but she had never really stayed away from Ghana for too long as her accent might lead some to believe. She claimed the longest she had stayed away from Ghana was nine months, straight. George shared the little about himself that he normally shares. He was an only child brought up by a single parent, in this case, his mom. When they finished with their lunch, there was struggle as to who should pay for the meal, with Pokua insisting she pay for lunch because it’s supposed to be her treat. Since George could not give any convincing reasons other than the fact that he was the ‘guy’, Pokua won, but only after she conceded that George paid for whatever they did next.

They discarded the idea of going inside the cinema to watch a movie after they’d both agreed there was nothing of interest on show. Pokua finally suggested that they go watch some horses, claiming she knew a friend who could make that happen, if George was interested. He agreed. They took a taxi and headed for the stables after Pokua had called the friend in question. She was without her car that day and said it was at the workshop but George doubted that was the reason.

 George paid for their fares when they got to the stables. They watched the horses as some grazed and some were ridden. The smell though was quite overpowering and George said so. As they enjoyed the sights and smells, they held hands, for Pokua would have it no other way. They took pictures of themselves; lots of pictures of themselves on their phones with Pokua taking about ninety percent of the pictures on hers.

The day ended with George accompanying Pokua to her father’s hotel where she lived, a goodbye hug, a kiss and him coming back to get a trotro from the roundabout, back to his house.

The first sight that greeted Esther as she logged in to her Facebook home page were the pictures of George and Pokua in which George was tagged…………………….  

  

    

      

      

 ************* Till next time! *************