6

Tessa

Oh my God, the craziest thing happened, and I couldn’t get over it. Archie was offering a chance for me to be part of a threesome, no a foursome. The whole idea of it sounded nuts.

He thought that this was some kind of game.

A joke.

Just like all the others that were sending me messages and playing with my mind, they didn’t realize what was at stake, or rather they didn’t care. They just thought that I was after someone because I’m some kind of perv. They don’t care that I need this to save the paper the one thing that means probably more to me than life itself.

Well maybe, not quiet. But for sure, part of me would die if I didn't get what I needed to keep it alive.

I was headed to class and feeling as if I had the weight of the world on my shoulders when my phone rang. I didn’t even look at Caller ID. Something that I’d been doing lately in case someone else felt the need to call me up and insult me or offer me the chance to stare in their home-made movie. 

Who does that?

“Yes!”

I yelled down the phone; I’d already prepared myswelf to be annoyed before even knowing who was on the opposite side of the line. 

“Tessa, is that you?”

Oh my God, it’s him.

“Dad. Is that you?” I asked just to double-check. It was crazy to think that I didn’t recognize my dad’s voice, but there was a lot of background noise and I could just about hear him. Then again, if it were one of my fellow students who wanted to offer me the chance to be in their sex games, they wouldn’t sound like him. Most of them call and send texts like “Hey baby,” or even one time, “Your place or mine?”

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry, Tessa, I haven’t called lately. Just checking in to see if you’re ok.”

I wasn’t, but now that he had called, I stopped in my tracks, no longer worrying about going to class, not worrying or thinking about anything apart from the fact that I was hearing from him.

“I am, now that you’ve called. Where are you? I haven’t heard from you in weeks. I thought that you forgot about me.”

That was a bit dramatic, but that was how it felt sometimes, then again, he was Grandma’s only son and he rarely went to see her. She never used to mind; she would tell me that she did good job of raising him because he had a fantastic daughter.

“No, don’t you ever think that. I just get so caught up, being on the road or writing up stories that I just lose my head. I’m sorry if you feel that I’ve abandoned you.”

I sighed, “Dad, I didn’t mean to make it sound so bad. Sure, I know that you’re busy. Besides, I’m kind of busy writing myself. I’m trying to get an interview with…someone, and I put up an ad, and no one’s responding.”

Please don’t ask me what I want to interview them about.

“If no one’s talking, then it is because they don’t want to share their story. I’m in Nigeria at the moment. I’ve been here for weeks. And I tell you - it’s tough getting people to tell the truth. If people do tell their story, you know their first fear?”

I shook my head and then took a seat, wondering if I should take notes because he was so insightful all the time. I don’t know why I never called him before even deciding to go on this crazy journey to get someone to interview. Dad knew all the answers when it came to journalism, which was why he was so successful, and I couldn’t think of anything better but to be just like him. 

“What?”

He laughed, “I thought you would know the answer. Anyway, it’s getting caught.”

He lost me. I still didn’t get what he was about, getting caught doing what? 

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t want to tell their story, because things always comes out. They’ll have to pay a price, sometimes a heavy one for being part of the story for the truth coming out, and most of the time, some people don’t want to take that risk. It’s not worth it. They worry about their family, friends, and everyone they know, finding out that they told the story and the consequences that came as a result of it.”

I sighed as it was all coming clear that I had the wrong attitude from the start, dad didn’t fly all over the place to risk his life for nothing, he believed in his dream and did whatever he did to tell the world the truth. Anyone could do an interview, that doesn’t make you unique or a top reporter.

“Tess, are you there?” He shouted, and I wondered how long I’d been sitting, lost in my thoughts when I freally should be getting my ass to class.

“Yes dad. You’ve helped me decide what I’m going to do.”

“Good,” he laughed, “I was hoping that I’ll be good for something, anyway it’s late here, and I shouldn’t be traveling at night. So, I need to be as quiet as possible, but I wanted to hear your voice.”

I smiled, “Glad you feel that way about me.”

There I go, with the guilt trips. I needed to get over my daddy issues and stop trying to make him feel bad. 

“You go write that article and the interview that you want to present to the university. Just remember one thing?”

“What?” I was so excited that I could feel myself jump out of my skin. 

“To send me the article when you’re done. I’m sure that it’s going to be great, but I want to show all my friends that journalism’s in the blood.”

I said nothing because, for a split second, I didn’t feel so excited anymore, the idea of writing it and saving the paper felt great. The idea of sharing it with my dad, hell no!

“Tessa, you there?”

I was still trying to find the words to tell him that there was no way that I could send him the article. 

“Yeah,” I whispered as I felt that a frog was in my throat and preventing me from saying what was on my mind. 

“I love you, Dad,” I said as I knew that our conversation was coming to a dramatic end. 

“I love you more,” he said, then he hung up. 

The part about him seeing the article, I would cross when it came to it. Right now, I had to save the paper, maybe I would write a counter article, and he could show all his friends. 

Who cares?

Right now, I need to get my butt to class.