by Suzanne Popp
Stephen and Esther were there. They were recalling their own wedding and honeymoon, and realized what a blur it had been. It seemed to have been months ago that Esther was all nerves planning for her bridesmaids and wondering if the flowers would hold up in the heat, and whether the caterer had planned food enough for the guests.
The day of the wedding, Bishop was pacing the narthex at the Presbyterian Church. He was reluctant to have his remaining daughter leave his home, his wife was worried over the health of Jethro once again, and the business had taken another downturn. When he saw his daughter enter the room, he forgot all his problems. Violet was dressed in a gown covered in tiny shells and as frothy as the waves of the sea when the tide is turning. She and Beatrice had designed it and it took more than a month to sew all of the tiny shells to it. She wore a small tiara on her head, with her hair swept up in a twist of ringlets. Pearl drop earrings hung down over the sweetheart neckline of her dress. She was a page from a fashion magazine. Bishop couldn’t wait to see the look on Joseph’s face when he saw his dreams come true. Together, father and daughter walked down the aisle of the sanctuary. The wedding party was waiting at the altar, dressed in fuchsia and deep pink dresses that went to their ankles. Each had a bouquet of plumeria and orchids that trailed from their clasped hands. The bride carried a bouquet of calla lilies and plumeria, which scented the entire area.
The audience began to ululate as the bride made her way down the aisle. Joseph felt tears well up as he watched this vision of a girl coming to claim him. His best man steadied him as he stepped down to meet her father and receive his bride. Beatrice also stood, her Jethro in her arms. The rest of the service, except for the tossing of the bouquet, was a blur. The music was excellent. Joseph’s two brothers blended in an acapella song of joy and fruitfulness that was traditional wedding music for their region. The church choir began encircling the couple with their blend of feminine voices. The senior pastor, who had known Violet her entire life, intoned blessings, baptizing them into the family of Christ. Candles in stair-step candelabras framed the handsome couple at the altar. Jethro started to cry and then suddenly stopped when he saw his sister in her dress.
At the reception, Dodge was omnipresent. He claimed he had discovered Joseph, insisted on hugging the bride, then scouted the attendees for others in need of his services. Bishop and Beatrice took a seat further back from the main table, where they could observe and enjoy the hospitality. Valoo had surprised the family with a catering of samosas, and gold-covered tiny cakes. He also proposed an impromptu toast
“I want to congratulate the Chitundus on the marriage of their daughter Violet to Joseph Again Leibitsang. He has been like a son to me. Whenever a couple decides to join their lives together, the marriage must have three legs. It is like the traditional pot. There is the couple, the family, and values. None can be missing or the marriage will not hold up. And so I toast you, the family, the couple, and values.”
There was polite applause, but also a buzz of talk. Several of the guests thought he had said Valoo, and were puzzled at his inclusion of himself in the wedding threesome. No one could understand what he meant because he gave the toast in English and spoke too rapidly. Valoo’s wife was not present as their daughter in India was due any time.
Joseph and Violet ate with their guests, served out the tiny gold cakes, and greeted each of the tables of visitors. They had several pictures taken of themselves and all of the guests, with the flame trees providing a backdrop for their happiness.
Violet and Joseph drove to South Africa for their honeymoon, arriving the next morning at a small guest house. Joseph had been there several times on his travels and knew they would be welcome. The guest house was a stucco, half-timbered Tudor cottage near the base of Table Mountain. Violet was amazed at the height of the mountain, the clouds that would come rushing in, and the assortment of foods that were laid out each day on the buffet. She had never ridden in an elevator before, and this bungalow had a quaint wrought iron cage elevator that held two people. Joseph loved showing her the elevator, the neatly wrapped toiletries, and all the new things that this small town beauty had never been privy to.
The wedding night had one interruption. A South African official came and knocked on their door and demanded to see their passes. Both had their visa, and a passport, which they had left at the front desk and were just going to bed when the knock came. Joseph spoke politely to the officer and showed him the papers, then asked him to check with the hotel owner if he had further inquiries, as he was just married and had come here to show his new bride this beautiful country. The officer made a small joke, apologized, and in the morning the couple found a bottle of Johannesburg Riesling Reserve wine on their threshold. Violet had been frightened in the night, but Joseph comforted her. They made love for the first time in the small hours of the morning. Again in the late afternoon, they returned to their room to experience what they had waited for so long, and the wine was sweet and smoothed the way.
Violet remembered several things about her trip to South Africa. What stood out in her mind was how Joseph had handled the rudeness of the official barging in on them, and turned her fear into a good memory. She recalled the softness of the towels, and the number of them; the scent of the lemon soap, the full stream of water in the bathroom, instantly hot for her bath, and the tautness of her husband’s slim body against her on top of the freshly pressed sheets. They had to be Egyptian cotton, she told Joseph, they were so dense and smooth. She brought back gifts for her brothers and her parents, and two bottles of the special wine to give to Myrna and Festal, and Stephen and Esther. She was glad to be back in Blancville, where the builders were clearing the lot for their new home.
CHAPTER 20
BIRTH OF LILY WONDER
It was late afternoon when the labor pains began. A storm had just drenched the area with much needed rain so the roads were slick with red mud. Festal hoisted Myrna into the donkey cart and headed the donkeys toward the hospital, eight kilometers away. He wiped sweat from his brow and whipped the donkeys in his haste to get there. Myrna had read about labor in her book, but the words did not come close to the pain she felt.
As they entered the clinic, Myrna’s waters had broken and the baby’s head was crowning. She heard someone moaning in pain, and looked at Festal to see who it was. He was squeezing her arm and tears were running down his weathered cheeks. The nurses rushed Myrna into the delivery room and scrubbed her down in record time.
They caught the baby and held it up for Festal to see. He was dumbfounded and groaned in his disbelief. The child had no testicles. It was a girl. Never had Festal imagined that he would not have a son. He put his hands in his pockets and walked out of the room while the nurses cajoled the mother and praised her for a healthy and full-weight girl. They made no comment about the absentee father, but instead concentrated on making sure Myrna knew how to care for the newborn. She bonded immediately with her precious little girl then overflowed with emotion for this new role of being a mother. She had a strong desire to share this joy with another woman, especially her sister, but she knew she would have to wait. Her body was absorbed with warming the child and making sure it was receiving enough milk, even as she flinched with every contraction— as the baby nursed and her body cleansed itself. She did not realize how devastated Festal was to not have a son.
They left the next day for home, the father walking beside the cart, and the mother contentedly nursing the baby. She named her Lily Wonder, although Festal was reluctant to give her a name. He left that afternoon for the fields where he told his fellow cattlemen that the labor was easy and they would have a boy the next time. Their neighbor Lottie said she would check in with Myrna during the day.
When Lottie came to see how Myrna was doing, she saw Myrna cuddling her baby. She had Lily wrapped from head to foot in a length of flannel, and a little knit cap pulled over her head, making the curls spill out at the sides and the forehead. Lily was a beauty. Lottie gave the mothe
r the lunch she had made for her. Myrna let her friend hold the baby while she went and took a leisurely shower, sprayed herself with perfume, and put on a fresh blouse. Lily was asleep in her friend’s arms when she returned. Myrna ate her lunch and Lottie talked about what lay ahead.
“I know you won’t hear this, but I have to say it anyway.”
“Why don’t you think I will listen? I’m listening.” Myrna nibbled at the bread her friend brought for her.
“You need to not get pregnant for the next two years so this baby will thrive and you will be strong.”
“I can’t even think about being pregnant. I am so happy with my Lily Wonder.
“Well, I spoke my piece. I am happy for you and don’t forget to baby Festal.”
Lottie left after an hour, with a good report of how the baby and mother were doing.
Lily was a placid baby with a big appetite, healthy and calm. Myrna wrote her sister about Lily, but did not send the letter until a couple of months had passed.
In December, when a full year had passed since she first met Festal, and nine months after she had married him, she sent out the announcement of her baby. Her mother was happy, her father wanted to see the child, and Uncle Dodge drove out to the cattle station immediately to visit his niece and the baby. Myrna warned Festal that the man could bring disease to the baby, so Dodge was only allowed to view her from the courtyard through the open doorway. Lily was bundled in blankets with a cap pulled over her head, leaving only a portion of her face visible. Festal was pleased at his wife’s concern for the baby and said he would take Dodge to the local bar to show their hospitality since he had come so far. Myrna nodded her agreement.
It was late when Festal left the Big Banana Bar. The girls there were friendly and offered the father free drinks, then an additional one when they heard it was a girl. Dodge asked about the delivery, the size of the baby, and how everything was going. He wanted to see Myrna and the baby to make a better report to her family, he said, but Festal could tell him everything they needed to know. Festal drank his beer and told Dodge he wanted a son. He could not tell Dodge the weight of the baby, or the exact date it was born. There was no calendar at the house. Dodge said a girl was a good thing, boys could come soon. He put his arm around Festal.
“Waitress, bring us another round of beers. And if there is anything else this man needs, see he gets some, and send the bill to me.”
They listened to the music while the girls flirted with them. Festal walked back to the ranch alone, leaving Dodge at the bar with one of the girls. Myrna was sleeping when he came in. Festal was calmer than he had been when he left the house. He walked over and looked at the baby. One arm had come out of her swaddling and when he touched her hand to put it back inside, she curled her fingers around his. He wrapped her up again, sighed, and stretched out on his mat.
When the baby was two months old, the neighbors in the cattle station came to see the child. They brought gifts—this time for the baby. Festal watched the procession and kept a close eye on his wife and child so no harm would come to them. He feared disease or any other kind of harm, and it was a time to protect them. Even when the hunting dogs got too near the baby, it resulted in an immediate punch from his fist. Myrna did not seem to notice his anxious protection of the family, and basked in the joy the baby brought her. The baby slept in the bed with her, and if she cried, Festal would waken to make sure Myrna nursed her and drank some tea.
On Violet’s wedding day, Myrna took stock of her own marriage. They had a child and another on the way. What would be Festal’s reaction if this one was also a girl? He had a hard time adjusting to the shock of one daughter; there was no guarantee that this would not be one as well. If her sister had a son, Festal would be reminded that he did not. Myrna let that thought pass and concentrated on having a healthy baby and making life good for her husband and the child. They made the storage room into a nursery, and that year they planted two more trees, a cashew and an almond. They also built a coop for chickens too high for predators and out of reach of the dogs. Festal made a pen that could keep Lily safe and would fold up against the wall when not in use. He bought her a small stool for her to sit on with cowry shells embedded in the base. He loved to watch how she imitated her mother and was learning to use cutlery. Sometimes in the evening, Lily would stand in the doorway with the last rays of the sun shining around her face, the tiny antelope leaning against her side, and Festal would try to memorize the scene, as it was so beautiful and so transitory. He had no camera to capture it, other than an uncluttered heart.
CHAPTER 21
GROWING
A year later the second baby arrived. Festal and Myrna had made a small nursery next to the large room, clearing out the storage shed and taking it over for the children’s room. They made it to the hospital before the waters broke, and were lucky to have the neighbor Lottie caring for Lily. This time, Festal was furious when the nurses announced, “It’s a girl!”
Myrna had a more difficult labor this time and was not in a mood to have her husband belittle the baby they had made together. The nurses ordered him out of the room and Myrna took two days to leave the hospital. The baby was healthy and beautiful. Like her sister, she was born with a mop of curls on her head and lips like a bow. Her skin was light in color and her fingers were long and fine. Her amber eyes were surrounded with curling lashes, like Festal’s.
All Festal noticed is what the baby was lacking. He now went to the Big Banana Bar on his own to be consoled. The girls were only too willing to hear about the birth of Pansy. When Festal complained about the baby being a girl, one of the barmaids informed him she thought the man had something to do with the sex of the child. He couldn’t verify that one way or the other, but the girl’s knowing about things he didn’t was a total turnoff. He headed back to his home with the intention of talking to the village healer about remedies. He blamed the dark powers for not being able to produce a son, and wanted to fix this.
Within a year, the first son arrived to Violet and Joseph. Like clockwork, five healthy boys followed. Bishop relished the rough and tumble play of a houseful of grandsons, and Joseph hired a nanny to relieve his wife of some of the chores that came with such a full house. The two of them interviewed her together before deciding on her services.
Grandmother Beatrice made matching shirts for all of them from striped chambray and they had school jerseys with the letter “L” monogrammed on the front. Violet took them to the photography studio to have their portraits done, and their pictures sat in the window to advertise the photo shop. Each time a son arrived, a photo was mailed to Myrna and Festal. Festal would carve a small bull and have Myrna mail it to their father.
Once they were weaned, Joseph took one of his sons to the store each day and a small play area was erected for them. The customers stopped by to see which boy was at the front counter and remark how strong and handsome he was. When they grew older, they still bantered as to which one would be allowed to visit the store. Business increased, and more than one young woman came to the store to make a purchase just to see which brother she could meet.
Fifteen months after Pansy was born, Iris arrived. Festal did not want to even walk into the clinic. He was hexed, he was sure of it. Three girls. He was almost 50 and he would never have a son. He was consoled by more than beer at the Big Banana Bar, but never mentioned the child was another girl, because of the remarks of the bar girl following the last birth. His fellow workers began to heckle him once they realized how sensitive he was about not having a son, and only being able to produce daughters. Some volunteered to help him with his plowing to insure he had a son the following season.
A year later, Daisy arrived. She was slight in size but had powerful lungs that never stopped crying. Even the thick walls of the rondavel could not shut out her shrieks. The other girls would go out by the calves to avoid the sound. Iris, the one year old, who could not avoid the screams, would join in. Festal built a second small rondavel for himself
a little distance away so he could escape the cries. In desperation, Festal visited the healer; he had been patient long enough.
CHAPTER 22
FESTAL VISITS FETISH PRIEST
Emmanuel Kafuma saw Festal approaching and donned his traditional robe. He waited for the man to state his problem.
“Hello. I am coming to you for medicines for my wife. She has been having only girls and she needs something so she can make sons,” Festal blurted.
“How many children do you have?”
“Four girls.”
“And how long have you been married?”
“Five years.”
“And how old is your wife?”
“She is nineteen years.”
“You have many years to make sons. You need to slow down. If you give her some time between children, you are more likely to have sons. I have no medicine for her. Just this advice. Get her some help with the children and wait before trying again. I am not charging you for that advice, but it is not easy medicine to take.”
“I will try. Thank you.”
Festal could not abstain more than he was. They had not had sex now for three months and the baby screamed on. Only when he carried Daisy against his chest with his shirt off would she stop her screams. It was a dry season, with not enough grass for the herds. The calves dropped weight, then died. The duiker that they had loved disappeared from their house.
