His Girlfriend
By Delroy Nesta Williams
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And he was pushed into the back of the van, handcuff still
tight on his wrist, as he struggled to sit up. He wriggled his way in the small
space until he was able to secure his balance although his arms behind his back
still made it a little uncomfortable as he was forced to lean forward. There as
a sly, dark look upon his face as he looked straight ahead without blinking.
Not once did he turn to his right hand side to look at me in the back seat.
“What are
you in here for?” he asked with a coldness in his voice that seemed more of a
defense mechanism than an outright dark murmur.
“My
boyfriend,” was all that I could muster.
“Oh, figures,”
he replied, still looking straight head, “and where is he?”
“He got away,”
I said, “but I didn’t.”
“That’s
usually how it goes,”
“So what
about you?” I asked. “Why are you in here?” to brush aside my own predicament.
And for the first time, he turned to me. His eyes lightened
up and he gave me a grin that showed his spaced, uneven teeth. He wasn’t bad looking;
in fact, he was almost cute except for that odd look in his eyes. He licked his
lips, looked at me continuing his awkward pause in the conversation and then in
an intonation that sounded a bit too easy going for a common guy spoke up to me
for the first time.
“Love did
this to me!”
“Love?” I
questioned, “Why would love get you arrested?”
“Are you
sure you want to know the answer?” he replied as he turned back to stare
straight ahead into the black night outside the van.
“Yes!” I confirmed
although skeptical about his previous response.
“Love did
this to me!” he again retorted, smiling and licking his lips. This time with a
certain confidence like he was cherishing what he was about to declare to me.
He then moved in closer, leaned over and for the first time I
saw a menace in his eyes that scared me.
“Don’t be
afraid,” he pronounced, “nobody should be afraid.”
“I am not; I
just want you to keep your distance!”
“Okay,” he
responded as he recoiled back into his original position.
“Thank you!”
“I honestly don’t know how and when it started.
I just know that she liked it just as much as I did. She never complained, not
once. She said no but she never meant it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My girlfriend, she never said no!”
“Uhmm, okay!”
“Yes, she was perfect. A beautiful specimen
like she had been plucked out of a magazine. I remember the first time I saw
her. I was preaching. It was actually an Easter message. It was raining that
Sunday morning. She and her parents strolled into the Church late and took a
seat in the back. I was immediately struck by her beauty although the rain had
reduced her curls into a mop-styled hairstyle but her eyes lighted up the room.
I stopped the sermon, only briefly, to ensure that they were placed closer to
the front as visitors. It was almost seven years ago.”
“So you’re a pastor?” I asked, now
understanding his careful use of words during the early part of their
conversation.
“Yes, that I am!” he said, clearly disturbed by
the question.
“Please go on,” I urged.
“Okay,” he responded almost teasingly, “where
was I?”
“She was beautiful but what was her name?”
“Oh yes, she is,” as he paused again, “her name
is Ashley… Ashley Pierre. She’s nothing like you though!”
“What do you mean?” I questioned again.
“Well… uhmm, she’s tall, slim and butter-skinned.
She has a golden smile and strong cheek bones, like a model, unlike you who is
just plain to my eyes.”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you going to listen or are you going to
keep disturbing me?” he scolded in total disregard for my surprise at his
rudeness.
The rain had continued to beat against the van and fogged up
the glass so much that I could only make out one figure outside. It must have
been a police officer who was surveying the actions inside and around the automobile.
The rest of the policemen were still inside the Church and although a small
crowd had now gathered, they were still kept a good distance from the site. The
heightened voices and excitement of the crowd could be heard over the thud of
the beating rain although neither of us could make out exactly what was being
said at the time.
“Her parents
became devoted Christians who came to every Church event. They were pillars in
the assembly over the past 7 years as she grew into a fine young lady. From
time to time she would even participate in the worship service. She had the
voice of an angel, if I can say so. I remember the time when she first got the
courage to sing in front of the congregation. It was raining too, a little less
than this but once she started to belt out her tune, the showers subsided and
rays of sunshine filled the halls of the Church. It was then that it was made
evident to me that the Lord had blessed my life with this young lady.”
“She sounds
heavenly,”
“That she was… that she is, just an angel. She
was so eager to be around me at Church, that I just knew she felt the same way
about me. I recall at an outing, her family’s first, she came over when I was
talking to the others. She was awestruck by my stories and asked questions way
beyond her age. She was so eager to learn that I decided to mentor her. She wasn’t
always a love interest, our love grew. It grew beyond my wildest imaginations.
I found myself staying up all night thinking about her, she haunted my dreams.
I wanted every day to be a Sunday. I even took over the Sunday school class so
that I would spend more time with her. She was inspiring my every action.
“Sounds like you really loved her?”
“Yes, I did. She loved me too… I am sure!”
“So what did she do? Where did she work?”
“I will get there! Patience!”
“We have forever?” I asked sarcastically.
“I think I do,” he answered back, “forever is
not that very long for me now.”
His answers always seemed so dismissive but I was intent on
finding out as much as I could from our brief time together.
“She once came to me about a problem she was
having with someone at her school. It seems he was hounding her too much,” he
continued. “He was becoming a nuisance and I couldn’t have that.”
“So she was a teacher then?” I interjected.
“I confronted the young man and he confirmed to
me that he would stop harassing her. I think that situation brought us a lot
closer. She would frequent my office almost every day. We would have these
wonderful talks about her future plans, about Christianity and her need to be
saved. She actually wanted to be baptized but I persuaded her that she needed
to be more firm in the word. And then one day…” he stopped, as he voice dropped
off.
“What happened?” I asked, almost too eagerly
that he looked up at me.
“I don’t know but she leaned over and kissed
me! It was just over two years ago. We had been talking and I was busy telling
her about my day when it happened. At first I was shocked but then I raised my
hands to her face and pulled her against me. Her lips were so soft, like they
had never been kissed before. Her strawberry lip gloss made me not want to stop
at all, until she pulled away and started to cry.”
“She cried? But why?”
“I don’t know!”
“You didn’t ask?”
“No, honestly I didn’t. At the time I didn’t
want to know. I was just happy that she did. Besides, she left almost
immediately in a quick sprint. We didn’t see each other for a few days until
she returned to my office to apologize.”
“She apologized for a kiss?”
“Yes, she did. But I sat her down and explained
to her that it was perfectly normal for one person to kiss another. There was
nothing to be ashamed of and that I had even enjoyed the kiss. She promised me
that it wouldn’t happen again and that we could still remain friends.”
“Just friends? I thought she loved you?”
“Yes, she did… she does! We continued to see
each other like before, almost like nothing had changed. But it did. I would
daydream about her kiss. I would lick my lips when I thought of her. Any hint
of the strawberry lip gloss would put me in a daze.”
“So she did kiss you again?”
“A few weeks later. This time it was in Church.
We were seating on one of the benches chit-chatting when my Bible fell from my
lap. We both reached down to pick it up and as we were coming back up, I kissed
her forehead. A gentle kiss. She gave me an awkward smile and then left towards
the back, making her way to the washroom. I followed her slowly, knocking on
the door. It took a little while but she did open the door.”
“In the washroom of the Church?” I exclaimed.
“I didn’t enter. I just stood in the doorway as
she made her way towards me. She hugged me and at that moment my whole body was
awoken. It felt like love, it was love. We stood there for a little while, her
arms in mine, until we heard a noise at the entrance of the building. She ran
back into the washroom and I made my way back to the benches.”
“So who was it?”
“It wasn’t anybody, just birds or a vagrant I
guess! I kept seeing her off and on until tonight. We were madly in love but
had to be careful and patient. Tonight was supposed to be our moment but
something went wrong.”
“What happened?”
“I still don’t know. I just heard a loud noise
which flung my office door open and then the police dragged me out into this
vehicle.”
“So she’s still in there? She’s still in the
Church?”
“Yes, I suppose!”
“But I don’t understand, why would the police
put you in handcuffs for that?”
“She’s probably talking to the police now, or
somebody. She wore my favourite pink dress today and came over directly from
school. It was all happening like I had imagined. It was her birthday today, so
I bought her a double chocolate fudge cake to celebrate the occasion. She
didn’t even get a chance to open up her other gift.”
“So what was it? The other gift?”
“I can’t tell you,” he responded with a
sheepish grin on his face and a light in his eyes, “it was going to be her
surprise.”
“No? why not? But I want to know!” I solicited.
“I would have to kill you if I did!” he said
with a cold stare as shivers came over me.
It didn’t seem like any joke and suddenly the man who had
just begun to open up to me took on this eerie tone and strange posture. He
leaned away from me and coiled up against the door and started to jeer,
clapping uncontrollably.
“It was
perfect, it was perfect,” he sounded over and over again shaking his head in a
forward motion almost knocking it on the car seat in front of him.
“Get me out
of here, Get me out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed, for the first time petrified
for my life. The door flung open as a police officer grabbed him by the arms
and dragged him out.
“That’s my
girlfriend, that’s my girlfriend!” he shouted out, his eyes pointing to the
direction of the Church.
I turned to my right and although the rain had fogged up the
window of the van I could make out four or five bodies. They all strolled away
from the van but the only one who wore a pink dress among them was a
frail-bodied young girl but I couldn’t bring myself to believe he was referring
to her all along. There’s no way it could have been her.
“She looks
thirteen,” I said to myself, “only about thirteen!” shaking my head in
disbelief. I suddenly felt extremely sick to my stomach after a quick
reflection into what this man just told me. I hope Miss Pierre can recover from
this, I hope.
THE END
