“Hello!” “Hello” “Is this Wangari?”, the manly voice asked. Or maybe thundered, in not so a bad way, a good way, murky way. I couldn't identify the voice. It left me tongue-tied, something I still struggle with. His voice was deep, hard, a few men I knew would match this kind of grit. So I listened, to his breathing, as he waited. What’s wrong with me? … I couldn’t answer a simple Yes or No. The 3 seconds seemed like an eternity.
“Yes… this is she, who is this, please?” I finally managed to squeak out, hoping my voice wasn’t shaking. Inserting the “Please” as ‘good behavior’. My Dad taught me well. I hated when it did that to me, my voice that is. Tremble. I hate being ambushed, surprised. I am a person who loves order, order in everything and anything. Simple.
The man on the other end chuckled. It was a warm, reassuring sound, like a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven. “I’m glad I caught you,” he said. Was he, though? Was this some kind of elaborate prank?
‘It’s…Chris,’ the voice replied, hesitating. “Chris with a K! Kris to the Kantada!” he said.
“So, Chris with a K, what’s up?”
His voice remained steady, with a hint of amusement. “I’m glad you find me funny, Wangari. Not everyone does, you know. Some people… they just don’t get it, Wangari.” There was a strange edge to his words now, like a knife being slowly dragged on an iron sheet.
“It’s not about what I need,” he finally replied, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “It’s about what you need.” A chill ran down my spine. “And what exactly do I need?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “You need to be more careful. You never know who might be watching you… following you.”