“Sure. Love you, Dad.”

TWENTY-TWO

After getting off the line with Derek, Gordon sat listless and depressed at the edge of the bed in his hotel room. He thought he might go downstairs to the bar for something to drink, and then eat dinner at the Papillon Restaurant, but he wasn’t that hungry. Maybe later, after he got in touch with Cas. Gordon tried his number but got only voicemail. He got up and sat at the desk where his laptop was open. Rather than talk on the phone, Gordon would pour out his woes into an email to Cas. Sometimes writing was more therapeutic than talking.

Hey, Cas, how are you, buddy? I know you’ve been trying to get hold of me and I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. Spoke with Derek earlier on and told him what’s happened here in Ghana. Bottom line is he was right. There’s no Helena. Her number has dropped off the face of the earth. I’ve been duped big time. I fell for the kind of thing that in the past I would have said was an obvious ruse that only an uneducated dumbass would fall for. Funny when it happens to you. I believed what I wanted to believe, and so here I am. My feelings are all mixed up—anger, shame, embarrassment, depression, emptiness, the whole shebang. It’s surreal, like I’m not in my body.

I’d set my trip for 2 months, but as I told Derek, I’ll get the earliest possible flight back when the Delta office opens after the long weekend. It’s a holiday here on Monday. Derek just wants me back asap. This is a classic case of “I told you so,” even though he didn’t say that out loud, but he did warn me this might happen.

Hope you’re well. Talk soon.

He went down to the Gallery Bar where a bunch of Brits and a couple of Ghanaians were drinking beer and watching a soccer match on the wide-screen TV above the bar. Gordon had a scotch on the rocks and sat quietly in a booth by himself. After that he went to Cedar Garden and had kofta kebab. When he returned to his room, an email from Cas was waiting for him.

Gordon—listen, sorry to hear about this, but I have a different take on it than what Derek probably has. So, you got duped, so what? Big fucking deal. Look, shit happens, right? Chalk it up to one of those regrettable experiences that’s not going to ruin your life and, in the end, won’t make the slightest damn difference. In a few years it will all be a distant memory. Why hurry back? is my question. I know there’s probably a lot that’s changed in Ghana since you were last there, so cut your losses and just have a damn good vacation! Go sightseeing somewhere, look up some resorts or whatever. Don’t they have some animal parks or something? What’s happened isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a guy! Okay, so you’re out a few thousand dollars, but you could lose that just as well in Vegas for God’s sake. Hell, you could even embrace the whole experience and blog about it, I don’t know. Call me if you like, and we’ll talk, but I say sleep on it. In the morning things might seem quite different.