“Someone was coming.”
“Who?”
“In a car. It stopped and shined the lights on us. I thought it was the police, so I ran away.”
“You didn’t see who was in the car?”
“Please, no, because the light was in our eyes.”
“Could you tell what kind of car it was?”
“No, please.”
“I see.” Dawson paused. “You know Comfort was killed on Tuesday night, don’t you?”
“Please, yes, I know.” He looked down.
“Did you kill her?”
“Please, no.”
“But what you did was still wrong,” Dawson said. “You helped Tedamm rape Comfort. That’s wrong. Never forget that, understand?”
Antwi’s chin was quivering. New tears began. “Please, yes,” he whispered.
“Do you think Tedamm killed Comfort?”
Antwi rested his forehead in his palm. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I just wish I never met him. Don’t let him go. Please, don’t let him go.”
“I won’t,” Dawson said. “And what about you? What are you going to do with your life?”
Antwi was downcast. “I don’t know. Me and Ofosu, we want to do something together to become better and leave this shit life. Ofosu is the only one I trust.”
“He’s your best friend?”
“In all the world.”
Dawson smiled. “What about school? You said you were about to enter junior secondary before you came to Accra. Why don’t you let SCOAR help you?”
Antwi shook his head so hard it might have come off. “Please, if Socrate is there, I’ll never go back.”
“I’m going to do something about that,” Dawson said.
Antwi gave him a quizzical smile.
“I would like to meet Ofosu,” Dawson said. “Do you know where he is?”
“Sometimes we used to go to Kaneshie Market together,” Antwi said. “Maybe he’s there now.”
Kaneshie Market is massive. Dawson and Antwi went to several areas where street kids hung around and where Ofosu might be found, like the video game kiosks. These key spots all had nicknames like Frytol, Roadside, Gold Store. Their last stop, called Dora, was where Ofosu was. He was joking around with three boys his age, while two others were washing a black Altima under the watchful eye of its owner.
When Ofosu saw Antwi approaching, a smile burst on his face and he broke away from the others and came to meet his friend. Ofosu, a year or two younger than Antwi, was wearing a faded orange T-shirt and jeans. With a heart-shaped face, he had some of the most beautiful features Dawson had ever seen on a boy.
“Ei, Antwi!” Ofosu exclaimed. “Where have you been?”
Speaking in Twi, they playfully jostled each other and held hands for a moment. Ofosu was easily the more effervescent of the two, constantly smiling and laughing about something.
“This is my friend Dawson,” Antwi told him. “Chaley, he beat Tedamm, oh!”
“Serious?” Ofosu looked at Dawson in admiration. “Where is Tedamm now?”
“In jail,” Dawson said.
Ofosu and Antwi looked at each other with eyes shining, as though they had secretly wanted this for a long time.
“Dawson works at CID,” Antwi said. “When something bad happens, then he investigates.”
“Not policeman?”
“Ah, chaley, no. This one, they call it ‘detective.’ Better than policeman. He wants to know about what happened that night we were with Comfort.”
Ofosu nodded, looking uncomfortable.
“But he already knows everything,” Antwi warned him. “Tedamm told him, and me too, I told him. So when he asks you some question, don’t tell any lie. He’ll catch you at once.”
Dawson looked at Antwi with new respect. The boy was doing a masterful job.
Antwi gave Ofosu another good-natured shove and then left him alone with Dawson to join his other friends.
“Ofosu, εte sεn?”
“Mepaakyεw, εyε.”
“You’re happy Tedamm is in jail?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Did he rape that girl Comfort?”
“Yes, please.”
“What about you? Did you rape her too?”
“No, please.”
“You know what is rape?”
“Please, yes, I know.”
“What is it?”
“Please, when the man make sex on the woman by force.”
“Yes. Is it wrong?”
“Yes, please.”
“You know it’s wrong, but you and Antwi helped Tedamm do it.”
“Because we fear him.”
“Listen to me. I said, you know it’s wrong, but you helped Tedamm do it.”
Ofosu bowed his head.
“So that means you did wrong too,” Dawson said.
“Please. Yes.”
“Did Tedamm kill Comfort?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know.”
“When you ran away with Antwi, did you go back to Tedamm?”
“No, please.”
“Did you see Comfort again?”
“No, please.”
“Do you know anyone who wanted to kill her?”
“No, please. Not at all.”
“What about Ebenezer Sarpong? Do you think Tedamm killed him?”
“Please, I don’t know.”
Ofosu was beginning to squirm visibly with discomfort.
“Okay,” Dawson said. “That’s all. Be good. You and Antwi should try to go to school, you know?”
“Yes, please.” He smiled, showing all his flawless teeth. “I want to do that.”
Dawson walked with Ofosu to the rest of the group. They launched into boisterous teasing and joking around, occasionally punching one another to peals of mirth. Dawson turned away with a smile. Boys will be boys. And it takes them such a long time to grow up.
36
In the evening when Dawson came home, a flour-dusted, spatula-wielding Hosiah greeted him excitedly.
“Daddy, we’re making pizza!”
“So I see.” Dawson swept his son up onto one shoulder. “And looks like you were rolling around in the pizza dough. Are you going to be in the pizza?”
“No, Daddy!” Hosiah giggled. “How could I be in the pizza?”
“I don’t know, but if I find a foot in there, I’m not eating it.”
Hosiah went weak with hysterics. Dawson carried him into the kitchen, where there were two surprises waiting. The first was a pleasant one-Cairo and Audrey.
Dawson rumpled Cairo’s hair. He hugged Audrey. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
She was sweet, with dimples and a smile that had hooked Cairo and reeled him in the first instant he laid eyes on her.
Christine, who was at the side counter rolling out pizza dough, said, “Dark, Mama brought you something you really like.”
That was the other surprise, much less pleasing: Christine’s mother, Gifty. She was sitting at the table with her legs demurely crossed.
“Really,” Dawson said. “What would that be?”
As always, Gifty was beautifully turned out, this time in a glamorous short bob hairstyle from her vast collection of wigs, a slim-fitted turquoise top, black slacks, and stilettos to match the blouse. Ironically, her stylishness made it easier for Dawson to dislike her. Almost to his regret, though, his wife was physically very much her mother’s daughter. The older and the younger, each of them was lovely, but there the similarity ended.
Gifty stood up. “Come, my dear. I’ll show you.”
My dear? Dawson winced. He followed her out of the kitchen.
“There you are,” she said triumphantly with a dramatic sweep of the hand.
Arranged on the sideboard to form the letters DD were sixteen bottles of Malta.
“Oh, wow,” Dawson said.
“Do you like it?”
“A supply of Malta? What could I possibly not like about that? Thank you, Mama. It’s very good of you.”
“You’re welcome, Darko. It’s my peace offering. Look, I’m so sorry I took Hosiah to eat pizza. I shouldn’t have done that. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Dawson kissed her on the cheek. “All is forgiven, Mama. I realize you didn’t mean any harm.”