The Prodigal Renegade. Victor Fakunle

sir.” Danny hoped whatever he had heard was good.

      Together they walked to the parking lot. “Here we are,” Chubi said, pointing to an eighties model Chevy Caprice station wagon with D.C taxi cab signage painted on the driver’s side door. Danny jumped in the car. It was freezing. He could have cared less if it was a boat, so long it was warm.

      The city felt quite different from the chaos in New York. Maryland had beautiful homes, lots of houses under construction in new residential developments. There were parks along the highway with kids playing on swings with young mothers pushing their strollers. It was a more relaxed and laid-back environment.

      As Chubi pulled into the Heritage Square apartment complex, Danny heard a rattling noise on the window. It was Dele, making hand signals for Danny to open the door. Danny was glad to see him. He had not changed a bit, except for putting on a few pounds. That was expected, thought Danny as he remembered the McDonald’s burger he’d eaten on the train. A quick hug followed.

      “Welcome ma,” said Dele to Evelyn as he slightly prostrated.

      “How are you Dele? Wow, you are grown. Look, you have a mustache.”

      Dele blushed and took two bags from Chubi, while Danny followed suit and entered the apartment.

      Danny woke up the next day to the aroma of fried eggs and sausage, coming from the kitchen. He barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. Dele had gone to school. He was a sophomore at the University of District of Columbia and was majoring in Pre-Med. He would be going to work later for the afternoon shift at the Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant in the north east section of D.C. They had been up late into the night, reminiscing about old times at the high school they’d both attended. Dele wanted all the gossip on his former classmates back in Nigeria. He had lost contact with most of them.

      It was ten o’clock when Danny walked into the dinning room for breakfast. Evelyn had been knocking on his bedroom door, asking him to get dressed and come out and say hi to Bunmi. Danny was meeting her for the first time.

      “This is Chubi’s wife,” said Evelyn. “She’s had been working a double shift at Howard University Hospital in D.C.”

      She was tall, feisty and a bit slender, thought Danny. Not what he’d expected, especially after meeting Chubi.

      “How are you? I hope you like the breakfast I made for you. Would you like some tea, orange juice or coffee?“

      “Tea. Thank you.”

      As Danny munched on his last piece of toast, he could hear Chubi’s voice from the living room. It sounded like he was having a serious discussion with a stranger. Danny leaned towards the door to hear their conversation.

      “This could work,” said the stranger. “The guy assured me at the Liberian consulate that the papers provided can be verified and are authentic.”

      “Very well, said Chubi. I told Chief Ladi and the General I would take care of Danny, but I can’t discuss the details with his mum. She would freak out.”

      “What about the kid? Does he have the balls to follow through”?

      “Chief Ladi gave me a heads-up about the kid’s escapades back home in Nigeria. I can assure you, he’s not a saint.”

      “Well, it’s their money. Just make sure I get the two grand as discussed.”

      “I told you. I’ve got this.”

      Danny heard someone walking towards the door. He sat down abruptly and took a gulp of tea. It tasted nasty and cold.

      It had been four days since Chubi had called Danny aside to inform him of his plans. He had started the conversation by asking about Danny’s plans for after his mum returned to Nigeria. Chubi looked innocent as he spoke, and Danny went along with it.

      “I don’t know. I will have to get a job as soon as possible”.

      “How are you going to achieve that? I understand your parents hope you get permanent residency in the long-term.

      However, they are ignorant of the U.S. immigration laws. You are in the U.S. on a visit visa which expires in a few weeks.”

      “Like I said, I don’t know. Going back to Nigeria is not an option. Can you help me”? asked Danny.

      “Sure. I don’t want you to become an undocumented immigrant. I have a friend who can get you papers that classify you as a Liberian citizen.”

      “Liberian?” asked Danny.

      Danny had done his research after eaves dropping on Chubi’s conversation. It seemed the United States was the former colonial master of Liberia. They were currently granting Liberians who had fled the civil war refugee asylum status. Danny knew the whole history. The conflict had erupted after Charles Taylor led a coup d’état toppling a democratic elected government in the eighties. That was followed by growing discontent among some of the government officials, who created another rebel group.

      “Yes. It’s the only way I can think of to help you get legal residency,” said Chubi. “Can you handle it?”

      “Do I have a choice?”

      “Don’t tell your mum.”

      “Sure, you can count on me. Trust me, I don’t want to get my mum worried either. When do we start?”

      “I’m making the call right now. The whole set up should be ready by next week,” said Chubi.

      “Alright. Thanks a bunch sir.”

      Danny walked into his room, lay on his bed and put a pillow over his head. He wondered why his parents had not studied in the U.S years ago just as Chief Ladi had. That would have provided him a U.S. citizenship by birth just as Dele. Now he pondered the direction in which life was about to take him.

      Chapter 7

      THE ALARM CLOCK RANG AT 6:00 A.M. Danny turned it off. He was tired. He had not slept all night. He had an appointment with the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services at 8:00 a.m. He was a nervous wreck.

      If he got caught, how will he explain this to his mum? What kind of questions were they going to ask?

      “I can’t back down now,” he thought. Chubi had forfeited two grand to secure the documents needed for this interview today. Danny turned off his thoughts and went straight into the shower.

      There was a knock at the bedroom door.

      “Good morning” said Bunmi. “Breakfast is on the table.”

      “Good morning. Thank you. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

      Danny had to catch the orange line at New Carrolton Station to the USCIS office in Alexandria, Virginia. Chubi was waiting in the car outside to drop him off. Danny came out of the room, walked over to Evelyn and kissed her on the cheek.

      “Good morning mum. I’ve got to go out with Chubi for a job opportunity. See you later.”

      “What about the breakfast Bunmi made for you?”

      “Got to run mum. Tell her I’ll eat it later.”

      “Alright dear. Good luck.”

      Danny hated lying to her. At least he was being honest about the food. He had totally lost his appetite.

      He dashed out the door quickly.

      Danny met the stranger who had made the arrangements for the documents as he exited the metro station.

      “Hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’ve got to ease up man. Lighten up or you just might end up in jail and be deported back home. Here are your documents,” he said. “Your birth cert stating you were born in Monrovia. Your date of birth remains the same, so to avoid you getting confused. That will be awkward, if you don’t know your own date of birth. Alright, I’ve got to go. Good