Missionary Position(27)

I raised my eyebrows at him. “This isn’t a social call?”

“Oh, it is, but one with some ancestors invited to join us,” he whispered.

I concentrated my attention on Solomon and Kofi, who explained we’d brought the schnapps as a gift to the family. Solomon held up the schnapps with its elaborate label and bowed his head to give thanks, then opened the jade colored cardboard.

What followed surprised me with its simplistic ritual, seemingly ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. Not unlike giving thanks at a meal, we focused our attention on Solomon, who said a prayer, pouring a meager amount of schnapps into one of the glasses. He lifted it up to the sky and spoke quietly.

Kai leaned over and explained while Solomon acknowledged the spirits of his ancestors, all of our ancestors, inviting them to join us. “He first praises God and the ancient gods of Africa.”

Solomon touched the glass to his lips, and then poured liquid on the ground three times ahead of swallowing some.

“And finally the earth, honoring those who have come before us,” Kai continued. “Giving blessings to their memories, and in return, asking for their blessings and protection.”

Solomon then passed the glass to Kofi, who poured another shot of schnapps into it. Kofi repeated the process, quietly speaking when liquid hit dirt.

Kai would be next, and then me. “What do I say?” I asked, nervous but mesmerized.

“Acknowledge, bless, and ask for blessings.” He touched my arm. “Speak to your ancestors as you would a good friend.”

If the friend were Quinn, we’d be thinking old school about homies and forties. I wondered about the origins and correlations between the two. I would have to mention it to Quinn and find out if he agreed.

Kai handed me the glass. I’d zoned out and had no idea what he spoke during his turn.

“Me daa see.” I thanked him, then took the glass and exhaled to focus my brain away from rappers and gangsters. Clearing my mind, I remembered my grandparents and then Lizzy, picturing her smiling face while laughing at my brain’s weird ability to jump from serious to trivial and back. While the dirt darkened with schnapps, I asked for strength and clarity. Finally, I sipped from the communal glass.

Ghanaian schnapps tasted of gin and strong moonshine, not the peach schnapps of my teen years. And it was warm. I forced myself to swallow, knowing spitting out a libation would be frowned upon by not only those present, but by generations of ancestors. My throat tightened, but I managed to swallow it.

After I passed the glass to Grace, Kai poured me a glass of water, which I gratefully accepted. “Thank you,” I mouthed.

He rubbed my shoulder, watching me from the corner of his eye.

When Grace finished, Solomon sat down and the conversation turned to my visit, Kai’s work, and how the local football teams were playing. I listened mostly, my mind still processing the libation. A handful of chickens scratched at the packed dirt, and a rooster crowed from somewhere behind the house.

Two of Kofi and Grace’s younger children arrived home from high school, their yellow and brown uniforms rumpled from their long day. The sun lowered in the sky, and Kofi invited us to stay for dinner. I offered to help and accepted the task of setting the table with Ruth, the youngest daughter. The simple meal of groundnut soup and fufu tasted delicious despite my dislike of peanut butter. Kai laughed at my expression when Kofi translated Solomon’s stories of pythons swallowing men whole, complete with instructions for us to sleep with one leg bent if we slept outdoors. I assured everyone it wouldn’t be an issue for me.

Standing in the dark outside of the house, we said our lingering goodbyes. Typical of leaving a gathering of family, our farewells circled around to conversation several times prior to sticking. Grace and I hugged, promising to see each other soon. I surreptitiously wiped my tears, suddenly homesick for my parents.

Kai held my hand on the drive to his house. “What did you think?”

“Still one of the strangest dates I’ve ever had, but it was a lovely day.”

“Forgive me for the coffin trick?”

I paused for a moment. “I do, but if you die, I’m not pouring the good stuff on the ground for you. You’ll have beer and like it.”

He smiled, but didn’t turn to look directly at me. “If?”

When, not if. Every one of us would die eventually, but live on in the memories of those who loved us. “Fine, when. Or if you die before me.”

“Probably not likely, given you’re so much older than me.” His reflexes were faster than mine when I reached across to pinch his arm. The car swerved into the other lane while he evaded my fingers. “Hey! Don’t distract me.” He laughed, but I stopped my assault.

I’d get him back later.





“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SELAH!” a chorus of voices cheered when I walked into Ama’s. Candles and paper flowers decorated our table.

I gaped at Kai, who shrugged, and then at Ama, who grinned.

“How did you know about my birthday?” I asked.

“You gave me your passport to copy when you first arrived in July. I wrote the date on my master calendar.”

“Sneaky,” I whispered when she hugged me.

“She did the same thing to me in June,” Ursula stated, handing me a present wrapped in wax cloth.

“My birthday isn’t until November,” Kai volunteered. “The fifteenth if anyone cares.” He cleared his throat and stared at me.

“Duly noted,” I said, walking over to him, letting him fold me into his arms.

“Already on the calendar.” Ama grinned.

Kai’s fingers drew patterns on my shoulder during dinner while Ursula charmed him, inviting him to visit her project and bring me along. After two full months in Ghana, our motley group had become a family. I counted my blessings. I would miss them after this ended. Nathan and Nadine planned to fly home in early November, avoiding the Saharan Harmattan winds and holidays that typically played havoc with flights.

I couldn’t begin to imagine saying good-bye to Ama.

Or Kai.

We had another month together before the “now what” conversation. He’d hinted at returning or extending his stay. Each time, I nodded and responded positively, but vaguely. Eventually we’d find ourselves on the opposite sides of the planet.

“Why the sad face?” Ama asked me.

“Nothing. Birthdays always make me feel a little maudlin.” Her question triggered other emotions, and I wiped away the sting of gathering tears from the corners of my eyes.

Kai’s arm tightened around my shoulder. “I was kidding about the age thing,” he said softly, his dimple deepening with his smile.

“It’s not the growing older part. It’s silly, really. I’ve always disliked my birthdays, and the markings of passing time—another semester, another year, another decade.”

“It goes by fast,” Nathan agreed.

“Too fast,” Ursula added.

“There’s never enough.” Nadine shook her head.

Ama raised her glass and said, “To making the most of the time we have now.”

I met Kai’s beautiful, fathomless blue eyes and repeated the words. He clinked his glass with mine, and softly kissed my lips.

“What are you planning to do with your final month?” Nathan asked Kai.

I wrapped my hand around his hand where it rested on my shoulder.

“I’ll be wrapping up the Volta project. After, I hope to take Selah north to visit the elephants.”

I turned to him in surprise. We’d joked about seeing the elephants, but had never made set plans.

“When?”

“Early November. I’ll finish my project in October, and then we can take a week, do a mini-safari. For your birthday present,” he said, smiling at me.

I sat up straighter and twisted to face him. “Really?” I grinned at him.

He grinned back. “Really. We’ll fly to Tamale, then drive to Mole from there. Unless you’re jonesing for the two day drive and stop in Kumasi.”

“Maybe on the way home?”

“Anything you wish.” He kissed my palm.

Ama and Ursula sighed loudly.

“Damn, you two make me want to take a lover,” Ursula said, fanning herself.

“Me too.” Ama lifted her glass to her forehead and rolled its damp surface across her skin.

“Stop.” I laughed.

“I was serious. Kai, do you have a brother?” Ursula asked. “Or a divorced father?”

Kai snorted. “Sorry on both accounts. Although, you could do better than Gerhard. My mother is a saint.”

“Darn it. I’ll just have to amuse myself with one of Selah’s books. I mean, Suzette’s.”

I choked a little on my water. Kai rubbed my shoulder while I stared across the table at Ursula.

“Who’s Suzette?” he asked.

The table stilled, conversation ceased and gestures froze, identical to a game of Freeze Tag. Ama opened her mouth to speak, but I raised my hand first.

“I am.”

“Wait, your name isn’t Selah?” Kai crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “After all of the trouble you gave me over my name?”

I scrunched up my face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes, my name is Selah. Suzette’s my pen name.”

“Pen name?”

“She’s Suzette Marquis!” Nadine exclaimed, evidently unable to contain herself.