THE MEXICO REUNION

THE MEXICO REUNION

Anyone would have attached little or no meaning to the proposed trip to Mexico in three days, given how casually my father tossed it forth, but not me.

I know him too well to take his words lightly. It was no different the last time I toured Cuba with him a few months after I returned from the hospital.

He had pulled out a thick brown cigar out of its container while we talked casually. In his canny mannerism, he dragged the cigar bar horizontally across his nose, dragging a satisfying long sniff of it before he lit it.

It triggered my curiosity and I posed him a few questions about the commodity. But instead of direct answers, he told me to pack a bag for a visit to where he got it; stating that that would answer all the questions I had.

We were airborne in two hours and to my astonishment, it was Cuba that the destination was. Therefore, when he left my room, I got busy on the phone with Jimmy for many hours.

In the end, he informed me that he was getting a few things together in preparation to pay his grandmother a visit to the South.

"It would do you a world of good, Jim.

It would prove therapeutic I bet, if you can stay for a while.

I mean, I haven't been the same girl that left Vavula some years ago." I encouraged.

"I will sort it for you if that's okay." I submitted with a note of finality.

A few times, before we hung up the phone, I was promoted in my spirit to mention my trip to Mexico with my father to him but decided against it as soon as they came. I couldn't say why, even after he said he was making plans to head in the same direction.

Meanwhile, my aversion to a loud setting was well documented. You should remember how much I hated the buzzes at the penthouse and conversely, how much I loved it at the Hanson’s, the stark opposite qualities in the standards of life, notwithstanding.

But the resultant outcome of my recent bargain assured that I was constantly immersed in polluted environments just as the one I would later find myself in Mexico that weekend. I sat next to my father, inundated in a boisterous atmosphere similar to that of a fight final at the Arena back home. Truly so, it was a fight final that held a pleasant surprise for me.

My father shook hands a thousand more times saying, "Meet my beautiful daughter" to predominantly old folks who feigned elaborate grins inadvertently unveiling the part of their aging selves that was mostly imparted by old age.

At that moment, I saw reasons with my sibling who did the Maths ahead and chose different paths. I appreciated their choices, even though this was mine too.

"I am not asking you to be okay with it, Angel, just understand it. You are condemned to take over from here. My father started when we resumed our talk when he returned to my room on the night I returned from Basel.

"Lyon who ideally, should naturally assume my place at the helm has distanced himself, stating he was way too far into creating his path to consider my offer and so, not interested in the position.

Martha was equivocal on her lack of interest too. As if in sheer disdain, she stated that she would never bring herself to think of returning to Vavula let alone living her life encumbered by the many things that complicated mine as a businessman.

"I don't know of anyone who would want to be you, Papa, certainly not me.

You should try Lyon and Light, who knows...as for me Vavula has seen the last of me," she was quoted to have said. While his words echoed in my head, I yielded temporarily to a timely distraction at the entrance of the event center as spectators swayed at the sight of an approaching fighter.

In a moment, when the cacophony his presence generated died down, I retrieved my gaze and in a cursory glance at my corner, I met a sea of eyes staring at me in unmistakable lasciviousness.

I was visibly startled at their brass unashamedness although I was ready to handle it, drawing from my experience on the day Jimmy sought my legal opinion on how to give out his property.

However, I hadn't fully developed a string of thoughts that trickled in on how best I could manage the old money bags, their sweat stench, and those quivering tones that grated on my nerves when the crowd buzzed at the entrance of another fighter masking off his head in a protective gear just as the first.

Something suggested I knew the last guy, but I was quick to convince myself that it wasn't possible.

However, when the fight recorded a winner and the fighting gears were undone, I justly credited my instinct for such a level of accuracy. It was Jimmy and he catered home the victory.

Frantically, I burrowed my way through the teeming crowd going after the one who had won my heart, abandoning my father to whatever thought that precipitated the astonishment masking his face.

Jim! I croaked amidst overwhelming joy as I breezed into his sweating arms and laced my arms tightly around his caked thorax as though the sweat of a man didn't bring me to puking anymore.

"Is this you?" He spit, doing his best to control his breath.

"Yes!" I replied excitedly as I led us away to the hotel where my father had already gone ahead of us.

We had taken turns to freshen up and sat to talk when my father showed up by my door to bid me a good night.

"Dad, meet Jimmy, my friend from Basel.

Jim, my father. I submitted in a single breath pointing at each man in a geature.

The two men shook hands with the older one taking the initiative to foster a deeper conversation.

"That was a great show of strength out there, Jim"

Thank you," he said politely, beaming a very fine simper.

"Have a great night you too," as he reluctantly separated from my embrace and proceeded to the exit.

Jimmy and I talked a bit into the night starting with what brought us to Mexico.

"When you said you were going to the South, I thought of Brazil, Chile, or Panama. It never occurred to me it would be Mexico."

"You mean I never mentioned that my mother is from Mexico City?" He asked rolling his eyes.

"You know, while we spoke a few days before I came here, I was nudged to inform you that my father and I were coming to Mexico, but I didn't see how it was important and so, decided against it."

"Knowing ahead of today that we were both coming here would have been great, perhaps you would have spared some time to visit my family," he said.

"Yeah...but we are here now. We still could."

"So, what was it that brought you? Business?"

I told him how I was emerging as the CEO of Albert Farm and Allied Services and was there to meet with some board members as well as visit the facilities.

“I am sure you would be better than your father,” he chipped in.

“No way! The shoes are too damn big. I will just aim to do the best I can, no one can beat that man’s record.” I followed up.

By the time his cousin came to pick him home, we had talked long into the night and needed a befitting rest for a day had brought us a lot of pleasant presents.