For the Dream of 5 Years: Chapter Forty: Boaz's Mission

Dan watched as Michelle drove out of the compound and thought she would come back with the sour flour for the porridge she was craving, or she would buy an already cooked porridge. He imagined her coming with the doctor to treat his disorder, bringing her children to play in the compound, or not returning. He was right; the night came, he was still at the window, looking outside for the Range, but Michelle didn't show up. He hoped Michelle would return with a taxi if the Range had developed some technical problems; she did not show up. He sat by the window the entire day, the whole night, lights off, back aching as he froze in the cold. He was not going to cry; he was a man. He would no longer beg Michelle; she would come to him of her free will, just like she did on his twenty-fifth birthday. Days passed, and Dan locked himself in the house; he did not go to the garage. He rarely ate or exercised. He was sad and empty. He wanted Michelle to make his big house a home. Michelle, not any other girl. ***** Boaz was so broke in the city he thought he would locate Dan in a couple of days. He had spent all he had and was almost sleeping on the streets and becoming homeless. His level of 'bad-guy' back in the village was nothing compared to what was in the city. Nobody gave him attention; he was just an ordinary guy in the city, one that dressed funny, one that was hungry because he wasn't working, and one that had realized nobody cared about him. He did not have money to go back to the village. He started asking for work; shoe mending jobs, cart pulling, maize roasting, street sweeping, you name it, he did it. Weeks passed, and all he earned during the day was exhausted by the next morning; food, accommodation, and cigarettes. It was draining him; he could not keep up with that life. He moved out of the city to a place where the houses were not expensive. He had luck finding manual jobs because he was hardworking and had physical strength. Near his new residence, he saw many opportunities, and he looked for work at a garage, Jupitar garage. Luckily, he was hired and started immediately. He was paid weekly; he moved to a much better house and ate better food. "Now I can comfortably look for that swine!" He mumbled to himself one night. ***** Stacy could not control herself when the letter she was supposed to leave in the car for Dan was by her side the whole time, and she hadn't read it. She tried hard to resist the urge to snoop, stopping at several stops along the way and fighting the temptation to tear the envelope all the time. She pulled over at the garage; someone from the garage came over because he recognized Dan's ride. "Hi, my name is Stacy; I was sent to bring Dan's car here. He will come to pick it up," she said after lowering her window. "Okay, you can park it in the back; that is where he parks his cars," the man said, directing Stacy to the back of the garage. "If I read it, he will think his employees did. After all, I will leave them with the car keys," she mumbled after successfully parking between a red Jeep Gladiator and a white Mercedes. The letter was handwritten; Michelle had drafted it on Stacy's kitchen counter before calling her pastor to take her back to her husband's house. The letter was a poem, with a contact of a psychiatrist on the back of the paper. It read: To Big boy, "The moon shone brighter than the sun when I visited your heart, The time moved slower than a dying tortoise since we first met, I had never imagined a roller coaster would balance my flying feet, I needed your spark and charm before you abducted me by accident, I found a box of tattered lingerie on top of your cabinet, Let it go and make yourself a beautiful 'moving on' gift, To overcome the demon covering your sight, Beautiful young and single girls so you could spot, I'ma do the same, and my mission abort, And I will send your way a helping psychiatrist, Let a curvy girl disintegrate into a silent heartbeat. From Curvy Girl. "Aw, this girl is talented! Maya Angelou has nothing on her! Jeez!" Stacy exclaimed as she tried to seal the envelope back with her saliva. She placed the letter where Dan could quickly locate it when he opened the car. She was too nosey to notice the red car belonged to Michelle. ***** After three months, Dan finally grieved enough and decided to return to the garage. All he was doing was going to the gym, attending a book club, and going home. It was time to face the world again. He was told that a lady had brought his car. He went back, opened the Range, and saw a letter on the driver's seat. He could tell that Michelle was saying goodbye; he had healed and wanted nothing to weigh him down. He took the letter and wanted to tear it but summoned his courage and opened it. "Wow, this bitch thinks I am crazy. A psychiatrist?" He exclaimed, frowning and tearing the paper into pieces. He looked at the Jeep and walked away. "I can see we have new workers. This time I would like to meet them individually in my office," he told the manager at his garage after they had a lengthy talk about the business. "Sure, we can organize that in the afternoon; we have a high-profile client at the moment," the manager said. "The man in the green cap, send him in," Dan insisted. He had seen Boaz when he came in and wanted to know why he was working in his garage. "I can't believe my eyes right now!" Boaz said, freezing at the doorway when he recognized Dan in a suit and a big magnificent office. "I came to kill you," he said as he lowered himself on the leather seat in front of Dan's glass table. "How are you, Boaz?" Dan asked. "You piece of shit own this place?" He asked, puzzled. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I own this place and so many other places," he said, laughing and standing up to pick a bottle of wine from a cabinet by the wall. "I don't drink alcohol," he said, crossing his arms and studying the man Dan had become. "How did you do this?" He asked. "After you bayed for my blood, I had to leave and find myself," he said, laughing. "Please bay for my blood," Boaz said, laughing. Dan had never seen Boaz laugh; he was this a stern 'commander' with a cigar in his mouth. "Do you still do cigars?" Dan asked sarcastically. "You ruined my business; I am now stuck with cheap cigarettes. Do you know you made me lose a deal of half a million shillings? I wanted to start my chicken business," said Boaz. "I could write you a cheque if you want," Dan said, reaching for his chequebook. "Wait, what? Why would you want to write me a cheque?" Boaz asked, quite puzzled. "Well, you said I cost you a deal worth 500k. Moreover, I don't want to die, and I don't want you to rot in prison," Dan said. "What would I do with that kind of money?" Boaz asked. "Chicken business?" Dan asked. "What if I paid you that money, which you technically owe me, to make me just like you?" He asked. "First, you would need to work in my garage as you return to school," he said. "Fine by me," Boaz looked alive for the first time. He had not gone through his secondary school; he was willing to start over if the result was anything near Dans. They had a lengthy talk about home, politics, and dreams. Boaz was a stern face over a gentle heart. He was frustrated with life, and with the proper support, he was willing to become a better person. He begged Dan to mentor him, even though he was much older than Dan. He agreed to return to school, work in the garage and pursue his dream of becoming a poultry farmer. He enrolled in Shamba Smart Farmers School for a two-year course on Technology and Farming. The school did not require any academic papers, making his lack of high school papers a non-issue. They became excellent friends with Dan.