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Missionary Position(14)

By:Daisy Prescott


My eyes snuck a glance at the other man, who also wore khakis, but with a white shirt casually untucked and slightly wrinkled. Gerhard wouldn’t wear a wrinkled shirt. If he was a hallucination, my brain would imagine him in a suit. I let my gaze move to his face, a familiar face with a slight layer of scruff. And eyes the color of the North Sea.





I OPENED MY eyes, finding myself on the bottom step. I didn’t recall sitting down.

Matt knelt in front of me, concern furrowing his brow.

“Hi, there you are.” He sighed with relief. “You fainted.”

“I did? I think I was hallucinating or seeing double. Or something. Everything sounded tinny and I felt hot.”

“You did.” He chuckled. “Your friend went to find you something cold to drink.”

“My friend?”

“The man you were talking to when I arrived.”

“You saw him?”

Matt stared at me. “Yes, of course.”

I blinked and took a deep breath.

“Did you catch his name?”

“There wasn’t time between the awkward staring and the fainting. He’s your friend, isn’t he?” His voice changed from worried to defensive.

“I’m not sure.”

“He wasn’t threatening you, was he?”

“No, not threatening.”

The sound of footsteps on the tile echoed across the lobby. Both Matt and I turned our heads.

A smiling Gerhard held up an orange Fanta.

“You scared me.” He handed me the cold bottle.

“I scared you?” I scoffed.

“Didn’t you receive my text?”

I furrowed my brow. “I didn’t.”

“Hmmm.” He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. “I sent you a cryptic text rife with clues earlier today.”

I continued to stare at him.

“The one about the elephant not needing luggage? Because it has a trunk?”

“That was your way of saying you were coming to Ghana? Could you be more cryptic?” One of us was out of our gourds, and it might not have been me. I remembered Matt, who had moved to stand on the stair above me.

“I guess I should introduce you two.” I flailed my hand between them. “Matt, Gerhard. Gerhard, Matt.”

Awkward settled over our little threesome after they shook hands. From Gerhard’s sour expression, I guessed he and Not Gerhard were having a staring contest. Maybe they were trying to figure out if they were twins separated at birth.

Matt must have lost because he cleared his throat and said, “Let’s reschedule for tomorrow, Selah. I think you’re right; you should probably lie down.”

I twisted my neck to look up at him. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

His eyes still on Gerhard, he agreed.

I sipped my Fanta and waited for them to pay attention to me.

Gerhard looked down at me, smiling. “Let’s get you to Ama’s.”

“I’m heading the same way. You can catch a ride with me,” Matt offered.

“My driver, Kofi, is outside.” Gerhard reached for my elbow.

“Kofi? Ama’s Kofi?” I asked.

“Yes, one and the same. He drove me.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you agreeing to come with me?” Gerhard asked, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, Kofi is my ride, too.” Nothing about this made any sense.

I faced Matt. “I’m sorry. Rain check?” My brain stretched to form coherent sentences.

“Of course. I might wander around for a bit since I’m already here,” Matt said, the fight gone from his posture.

I apologized again and walked outside with Gerhard.

Kofi gave me a Cheshire grin from his spot standing next to the car. “Wonderful, you found Dr. Selah.”

I stared at Gerhard. “Did you come looking for me? How did you know where to look?”

He grinned and pointed at Kofi. “I have connections.”

I sat in the back of the car, still feeling dazed.

Gerhard chatted with Kofi, while keeping his body turned toward me, his eyes wandering my face.

“Are you a tiny bit happy to see me?” he asked softly when there was a break in his conversation with Kofi.

I turned to look at him, really look at him. He appeared to be the same man I met in Amsterdam, but there was something different about him.

“Give me several hours and a stiff drink or two to overcome over my shock,” I replied, a smile tugging at my mouth.

“You got it.” He reached over and touched my hand.

Instead of taking me to the house, Kofi drove us to the hotel, which was fine because I wasn’t kidding about needing a drink. Rarely in my life had I been stunned speechless. Or fainted.

Gerhard rested his hand on my shoulder when we entered the open lobby at Ama’s. His touch felt familiar, but was probably a safety precaution should I decide to face plant or swoon again.

Ama stood at the front desk facing away from us, but turned at the sound of our footsteps. “Hello! There you are!” Her face split into a huge grin as she scurried around the desk to embrace Gerhard.

I had to half hop to the side to avoid being knocked over by her enthusiastic greeting.

After a moment filled with laughter and back-pats, she turned to me. I received a half hug as she steered us to the veranda. With a squeeze to my shoulder and a backward glance at Gerhard, she asked, “Where did you find Kai?”

“Who?”





“WHO WHO?” AMA asked.

“You sound like an owl,” I said. “You said Kai, and I said who?”

“I heard your who. That’s why I asked who. What do you mean who?” She steered me to the long table while alternating between staring at me and behind my shoulder where I assumed Gerhard followed us.

“You said something about me meeting Kai. Or finding him.” I scratched my cheek and touched my forehead. Maybe I was having a reaction to my anti-malarial drugs. I’d heard they could cause psychotic dreams. Maybe this was a psychotic episode. Nothing made sense.

Gerhard coughed from behind us.

Ama turned and asked him, “Do you know what’s wrong with her? She’s not making sense and looks flushed.”

“She fainted at the art gallery. I think she needs to lie down. Or eat. Probably both,” Gerhard answered.

I slumped in a chair and watched the two of them stare at me. Ama rested the back of her hand on my forehead. I swatted it away. “I’m not sick. I don’t think. Maybe. I think I’m having a psychotic dream from the malaria meds. Only I’m not asleep.”

“You fainted, sweetie. Did you eat today?” she asked, motioning for Sarah.

I repeated the list of foods I’d consumed for the day. Ama tsked her disapproval.

After sipping some cold water, I exhaled, feeling more myself. I looked over at Gerhard, still needing confirmation he sat at the same table, at Ama’s, in Ghana, with me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

His eyes crinkled charmingly in the corners when he smiled. Charming eye crinkles. “You can see me? I’m not an apparition?”

“So you do know Kai?” Ama asked, glancing between the two of us.

“Who’s Kai?” I repeated, staring at Gerhard.

“Here we go again. What do you mean who is Kai? Kai’s sitting in front of you.”

I raised an eyebrow while I continued to stare at Gerhard, waiting for him to disagree with her. Instead, he nodded and pointed at himself.

“I don’t know any Kais. I know a Gerhard.”

“Who’s Gerhard?” Ama asked, confusion coloring her voice and making her sound exasperated.

“I am,” Gerhard replied.

“I thought your name was Kai.” Her brows furrowed and she crossed her arms.

Mirroring her, I crossed my arms. “Now do you understand my confusion, Ama?”

“Son, you have some explaining to do,” she stated, using her mom voice.

While his gaze flicked between the two of us with our arms crossed, Gerhard stroked the scruff on his cheek, letting us stew for a minute.

“So who are you?” I asked.

“Both?”

“Both question mark?” I echoed his question.

“Both. Kai’s a nickname for Gerhard. No one really calls me Gerhard since my father shares the same name.”

“Well, that sorts it out, doesn’t it?” Ama laughed. “Kai is Gerhard and Gerhard is Kai, and somehow you two know each other. Want to fill me in how?” She looked at me.

“Gerhard is the man I met in Amsterdam. Who was introduced to me as Gerhard, who let me call him Gerhard and never once corrected me.” I tightened my grip on my biceps while I tried to wrap my mind around the double names.

“Why would you do that?” Ama asked. “You’ve always been Kai.”

“What she said,” I added.

He held up his hands, palms facing us. “Anita started it. She met Selah at JFK and told her to look up Gerhard Hendriks when she arrived in Amsterdam.”

“Maybe she meant your father?” I snarked.

“Doubtful. They never got along.”

“Anita?” Ama asked.

“His sister,” I answered.

Ama looked at me from the corner of her eye, then stared at Gerhard-Kai with her brows lowered. I glanced between the two of them while they held some sort of silent conversation.

Kai broke the staring contest and coughed.

“So, Kai, if Kai really is your name, why are you in Ghana?”

Kai, not Gerhard. This would take some adjustment, but it was a much sexier name.