short and sweet

A bicycle was creaking it's pedals towards me, and the rider stopped just short of running me over.

"kacie, hello? where are you going?"

"i'm going to the clinic." i replied.

"fine, fine, that is fine. by God's grace enjoy yourself."

i started to walk on but he reached out and prodded my shoulder.

"kacie? i must let you know, do not be letting the boys from the village into your home. it is not advisable." he smacked his lips and his head fluttered about, like a bird trying desperately to escape his cage.

i had no reference for what he was speaking of, but he was obviously very serious about the matter.

"who?" i asked. "who has been visiting me?"

"the boys, from the village, don't let them in."

"well i'm sorry but i don't know what you are talking about. i don't let boys from the village into my home"

if he was talking about my roommates, i didn't really have a choice. not to mention, i liked them, a lot. i had to pause, step back and look at this man.

who was he?

i liked his energy, it was serene and caring, but i still did not know him. he was interacting with me on intimate terms so i couldn't ask him when or if we had ever met.

he was still talking.

"give me your number and i'll share what i have been hearing with you later."

"okay." i said. but then, why not now? "can you please just tell me now."

"OHNO! i will call you later kacie. besides..." he perked up his index finger stiff like a flagpole, then he said slowly "a word to the wise is-" looking at me expectantly. He wanted me to finish his sentence.

I stared at him blankly.

"a word to the wise-" he continued.

i just kept staring.

"Kacie? a word to the wise- is ENOUGH! remember, A WORD TO THE WISE IS ENOUGH!"

it was nice he was looking after me, but i still had to inform him. "yes i understand, but i still don't know WHO you are referring to. I don't let strange boys into my home!"

"Kacie? do you remember last week at the market?" he said it so fast it sounded like a chant.

i raised my eyebrows with one quick lift.

"the lady, with plantain on her head, she said her son has been coming to visit you! i have been in this village since 1969! i know these small boys who grow to be big. i am the eyes and the ears of this village Kacie. don't let these boys into your home."

then he sped off.

i understood. this was a warning against Osmand, the boring 20 something year old who had been stopping by my house to drill me on questions about the U.S. I met him on the road back home one day and he instantly befriended me. He's a modern thinker, too modern for a village. He clung to me like a barnacle, going along with me just to hear stories about America. he says he likes the place because we have enormous buildings, we don't cheat on our spouses and the women 'just say what is on their minds.'

i told him yes our buildings are big, but that affairs happen all the time in the u.s. and if i were really to say what was on my mind i probably would have hurt him, so i didn't. his company made me feel tired and i wasn't afraid to show it. maybe letting out a few loud slow motion yawns could clear him from my house, i thought.

when that didn't work, i'd put my head down where ever we were at and close my eyes. he didn't seem to care so i'd answer him from a resting position.

"i've grown tired of this place." he'd say, referring to Ghana.

"i can't see why." i'd murmur.

then he'd go on to explain his reasons.

one thing i appreciate is he never asks me for anything except my company and some conversation.

after his first few days of stopping by my house, i realized he was just there to befriend me. he doesn't want to be my husband or even my boyfriend, he doesn't want a visa, or a letter to get a visa, he doesn't want dinner, or water from the well.

he's just lonely.

he's Muslim and we play soccer together. he says he used to be a Christian, but now is Muslim. In two years he plans to return to Christianity.

"2 years?" i laughed. i wasn't aware you could schedule faith into a datebook.

"yes, in 2 years."

he had brought a soccer ball that day and on it were the words "NO JESUS NO LIFE", i found it ironic that the ball belonged to his team. it jump started our casual religious conversation. i asked him about Islamic beliefs , but he couldn't express himself very well. he couldn't come up with the words to explain much.

i knew exactly how he felt.

"faith" i reassured him "it's a hard thing to talk about. at least the kind that lives in your heart."

he agreed.

i didn't mean for it too, but i noticed my demeanor softening up around him. he wasn't so boring anymore. a week or so went by and it was clear- he was a soul-searcher. i was somebody who had time and an equal curiosity about things, when i was awake. i made a commitment to his company, to stop sleeping when he came to visit.

our time together was short, but i would call him a friend. he answered my questions about Ghana and corrected my brash generalizations. he came early and stayed late, sometimes a little too late for my liking, but it all worked out. his school came back into session and he returned. he goes to university in Kumasi. when he left he thanked me for spending time with him and said he had to get going, spring semester was starting on Monday.

"okay but before you leave..." i said a little hesitantly "what is your name?"

we both laughed. we had talked about everything, asked each other a million and one questions, but never our names.

"i'm Osmand."

i waited for the other names. none came.

"and what is your name?" he asked me.

"i'm Kacie."

"Kacie. fine, it's been a pleasure. take care."

then he left.

i think the man on the bicycle is mistaken.