by Suzanne Popp
Bishop sometimes wondered if he should have set some goals for his children. Stephen had finished his course at secondary school and become a math tutor. His wife Esther seldom visited their home, and had not invited them to theirs, saying it was too small to make them comfortable. Bishop did not know what the issues were between them, but he was not surprised when Stephen decided to stop teaching and start driving cab. He could make almost twice the money, now that the economy was good, and tourists and businessmen were coming to the area. Joseph helped him get a vehicle for the taxi, service, and within the first two years, Stephen had paid him back. Stephen and Esther now lived on the outskirts of Blancville, closer to Esther’s parents. They had one child who spent more time at Esther’s parents’ house than she did in her parent’s according to Beatrice. The girl was seldom brought to see the Chitundus, and this caused pain to Beatrice, so Bishop avoided mentioning the family as much as possible.
Bishop had set some goals for Myrna. The disappointment of having to take her from her schooling was almost as hard to bear as the death of their first child, Eunice. He had said this so often, the words came now without feeling or thought. These were peaceful times for Beatrice and Bishop, with letters from the country, telling how Myrna’s family was growing, and occasional visits from their son Thomas, who was now in the prestigious Royal Academy boarding school that Myrna had attended.
Thomas was not a challenge to them, and seemed to be making his way in a sure, if uneventful course of study with no idea what he wanted to do when he finished. He did love being on the cricket team. What was the path that Violet’s children would take? He knew that Joseph wanted them educated and spent time with them as they grew up. But Bishop wondered if they had been too scattered in their approach to the boys’ education. None of them sustained an interest beyond what came easily. They didn’t worry about their future, nor were they competitive if it wasn’t comfortable.
Only Bwalya had shown a talent for any particular field. He had a desire to be an artist early on and would defend the illustrations he made in the margins of his exercise books. Joseph tried to understand Bwalya’s art, and when he asked him about it, Bwalya would tell him, if it doesn’t tell a story with emotion and color, why bother? He was a skilled artist, everyone said, but the grandparents had never seen him or his art since he returned from Europe. The other brothers would show up from far regions with tales of their travels, and gifts they brought back for their grandmother.
Beatrice was surrounded by her throng of grandchildren on the holidays, and sometimes on Sunday when they joined them for a special barbecue. No, Bishop certainly could not complain about the family they had raised together. The music started and Bishop felt his eyelids grow heavy with the peacefulness and familiarity of the sounds. He was asleep before the message on the Great Commission began.
Violet and Joseph spent Sunday morning in the warehouse. They led a circumscribed life with their business ventures drawing the circle. The assistant they hired to help had fallen ill, and the two of them were taking inventory of the stock. Buying, stocking, selling, and then repeating the cycle— occasionally choosing a new product to try— was Joseph’s strategy. It was dark and cool in the building, a relief from the blast of heat outside on this November day.
When most of the goods had been accounted for, they took a break to eat some Welsh meat pies and take a drink of tea. By now, the tea was cold, but sweet to their taste.
The first years of Violet and Joseph’s marriage had been a blur of infants, nannies, and visits to relatives to share the children. After they had passed the difficult times of infancy and childhood they had expected a release from the constant watchfulness over the health of their sons. The boys were in middle school, then secondary school, and vocational school when a cloud moved over the country. One by one, something was claiming the lives of young people, as surely as the cholera had taken the cattle from grandparents in days of old. This disease was not named, nor did anyone acknowledge that it had affected their families. The Leibitsangs attended the funerals of their sons’ friends, crossing themselves in gratitude that it had not been one of theirs. Benjamin, now a senior in college, and the others were attending various vocational and secondary schools. They offered up a prayer for the safekeeping of all their boys and gave generously when the plate was passed.
CHAPTER 32
GRADUATION
Joseph watched the line of graduates go forward. He sat on a wooden folding chair next to Violet and felt the tightness of his breath against his chest. He had not attended school, and now a son of his, was receiving a degree from the University. As the music of the processional swelled, he wondered if others were feeling this overwhelming tightness in their chests. The tears welled up behind eyelids. He was swollen with happiness, his throat tight with emotion.
Nothing he had done in his work, or even his marrying his beautiful impala woman, compared with the pride he felt in having his son exceed his reach. Joseph knew he had made this success possible. For himself, employment and self-determination had been a quest. Could he rise to be a man of civility and of execution? It was not enough to have the ideas—could he make them tangible? As he had watched his employer strive for success, there had always been a doubt of the outcome, a fear that underlay the enterprise. Now, this son graduating gave him his answer. He was humbled to be a part of the tradition of education and the acknowledgement it brought.
Joseph glanced over at Violet to see if she was feeling a similar euphoria. She squeezed his arm at that moment, without looking away from her son. Benjamin alone was her focus and her joy at that moment. Later, she and Joseph would make love on the floor of their bedroom, celebrating what they had created and brought to fruition.
The crowd rose and cheered for the victory of a long concentration and discipline. Joseph would have a diploma to hang on the wall in his office, a reminder of this triumph.
Benjamin saw his parents in the crowd. His father was wearing his best pinstripe gabardine suit, too warm for this November afternoon, but he knew how proud they were. They could not know that his eyes were scanning the crowd for a girl forbidden to him. Benjamin’s thoughts were on Henrietta, a girl he had met in the cafeteria at his college when he had been sweet-talking the cook into serving him a snack after hours. When Henrietta walked in with a basket of hot rolls balanced on her head, her small waist and tight breasts accented by the line her body made while she carried the basket on her head, Benjamin knew he had to learn all about this nymphet of a girl. Within the next few weeks, she was sneaking to his dorm room and making love in his bunk bed. They laughed at the danger of being discovered, or toppling off the narrow bunk.
He had also gone to her mother’s flat on days when the mother was at the ovens, baking the rolls that supplied the greater part of the city. There he would join the girl on a mat on the floor, or behind the curtain that closed off the bedroom from the sitting room. She was a petite, athletic girl with a ready smile and eyes only for him. He did not doubt what his mother would say to this match. Henrietta had no family except for her mother, and her father had died from pneumonia when she was eight. She was not of Ben’s tribe, nor did she have any intention of learning his mother tongue. So why was he so in love with her? He loved the adventure of his going to see her and planning how they would manage. She was not materialistic in the least. Her favorite gift was a page of music that he would sing to her, and she would transpose into a beautiful song. Whatever she heard, she could imitate. Her family had fled from the wars to the north, she never specified more than this, but he knew her childhood had been as unlike his as her music was to his wailings. She was a vision, that is how he pictured her. Now that he was graduating from the University people would begin to ask when he would marry. He had already had Uncle Dodge making suggestions and trying to get him to share a drink and talk prospects. Uncle Dodge had no idea how much Benjamin loathed him.
Hen, for that was his pet name for Henrietta, knew that he had a hy
ena in the family, that is how he described the character of this uncle. Sometimes they would play a game and try to guess how many cows, goats and chickens Uncle Dodge could negotiate for Hen. Benjamin would make a tiny offer and Hen would pounce on him in mock fury. One day, her mother had come in just as Hen had pounced. Both of them came out with the identical lie, they had seen a mamba and were looking for it under the bed. They did not know if the mother believed them, but she looked terrified and went rushing to get her broom to protect her child.
When they called the names of the graduates, Benjamin heard the name Leibitsang, and walked jauntily up to the platform, saluting his father before he took the rolled up diploma, then shook hands with the dean. He saw his parents snap a picture at that moment, and it was over. He was a graduate.
Benjamin’s graduation party was riotous. More and more people showed up and his father realized that he had no way to keep party crashers from wining and dining off the sumptuous spread he had laid out to celebrate the occasion. At 8:00 Joseph announced he was closing the gates. By this time, the party tent was a shambles and the drinks and food were gone, along with many of the plates and cutlery, the cushions, and the decorations. Joseph tried not to let the rampage of the guests spill over on his mood. But Violet echoed his concerns and his lament at the behavior of the guests who had been drinking. Many just couldn’t handle such an excess of meat and drink after their normal restrictive diet. Some came to be rowdy—it was a party, wasn’t it? They wanted to forget their work-a-day lives. The pent-up frustrations boiled over in raucous laughter, dancing, drinking, and eating. Some seemed to be high on the amount of beef they had consumed. The barbecued beef had been a full sized steer, now it was a ribcage and less. A child in the corner of the garden chewed contentedly on one of the ears.
Joseph’s other sons looked dazed at the carnage of the back yard and the piles of rubbish left behind. A lone rooster wandered into the suburban backyard and started to crow. After Benjamin left, Joseph and Violet headed to their room, arm in arm; they would clean up the tomorrow, determined not to let the aftermath destroy their jubilee.
It was Sunday. Benjamin normally went to church with his parents and family. He liked the lively youth group, the music, and the big screens where he could see every portion of the large cathedral hall. The music was alive with rhythm. Today, however, Benjamin was missing. His mother thought he was probably sleeping in after the excitement of yesterday. His father didn’t want to be irritated, as he was basking in the congratulations of the congregation for the graduates and their families.
Not until late afternoon did Joseph ask where Benjamin had gone. Dodge who had stayed at the Leibitsangs for the party offered to go and look for the boy. He said he had seen him looking around the party last night and thought he might have an idea where he was. It wasn’t like Benjamin to not be at a family gathering, which they had planned for this evening.
Henrietta spent the weekend at the hospital. Her mother had collapsed at the communal ovens where they were baking hundreds of special rolls for the graduation weekend. By the time Henrietta located her at the hospital, her mother was asleep and the nurses advised her to let the woman rest. They told Henrietta her mother was suffering from heat exhaustion from exertion and the heat of the baking. Henrietta sat in the chair beside the gurney. There was not a private room for her mother, but the nurses had kindly placed her in a side hallway near the cafeteria. Henrietta waited for her to wake up.
When evening came and she was still not awake, Henrietta went looking for food for them. She returned to the hospital around 9:00. By this time, visiting hours were over and she could not get in. She waited outside the doorway, and when a doctor came in for a late shift, he let the shapely young girl through the doorway, signaling her to be quiet and stay low. She did. She found her way down the hallway where her mother had been sleeping, but there was no gurney there. In a panic, she traced her way down each hallway, then again. Her mother was nowhere to be found. In the morning, she located the nurse that had helped her mother the night before. The woman had to think for a moment, then she smiled.
‘‘Your mother has been put in a private room. The patient there died, not of anything contagious, so we just moved her right in. It will take a few days before the paperwork sorts it out, by then, she may be feeling much better.” The nurse hugged the girl around her thin shoulders and guided her into the room. There lay her mother, surrounded by a filmy cloud of mosquito netting with a large drink of guava juice with a straw sitting next to her bed. She opened her eyes when Henrietta came in, and patted the bed for the girl to lie next to her. Henrietta pulled the sheet over herself and lay beside her mother. She felt the warm net of security settle over her tired body.
It was late afternoon before Henrietta woke, wondering where she was with the white clouds of curtain surrounding her. Amnesty smiled at her daughter when she saw her awake. “I am feeling much better, Henrietta,” she said, reaching for her breakfast. “Have some eggs. I didn’t want to wake you, you were sleeping so soundly.”
Henrietta could hear her mother’s breathing as she lay beside her and wondered if her mother was really better. She didn’t let herself think what she would have done had her mother passed away while she was searching for some food. She hoped her mother had not been worried about her. With everything that had happened to Henrietta’s mother, she hadn’t thought about Benjamin’s graduation and party. She knew he would be worried since he had no way of knowing what had become of her.
She had to find him and let him know she cared and that she had not wanted to miss his big day. She hugged her mother again and told her she would be back that evening. The nurse smiled at her as she let her out of the room and Henrietta turned to note the number. E 126.
Henrietta knew approximately where Benjamin lived. She did not have cab fare, but she had some leftover rolls, so she spent half an hour selling them at a discount to raise money for her fare. Within an hour, she was at the wrought iron gate of the Leibitsangs’. The guard asked who she was seeking and when she said Benjamin, he immediately let her in.
The family was gathered in the sitting room discussing where Benjamin might be. Uncle Dodge recognized the girl as the one he had seen near the University.
“This is the girl that knows Benjamin. Ask her where he is,” Dodge said.
Henrietta looked at the family. She could recognize the mother immediately. Benjamin resembled her. The brothers less so. In their midst sat the father Joseph. By his stern look she knew right away he was upset by the disappearance of his son, and her arrival.
“How do you know my son?” he asked.
“I bring rolls to the University, that is how we met,” Hen explained. “Where is Benjamin? Is he missing?” Her gaze went from one face to another and anyone could see she was shaken. Henrietta saw Dodge looking at her. This was the hyena uncle Benjamin had described.
Dodge was appraising the girl and he immediately summed her up as a poor girl who was no marriage prospect at all. She would be lucky to bring two goats for her dowry unless someone worked on her appearance. He liked the bones of her face and her graceful movements as she entered the sitting room. Still, the boy was throwing himself away on such a twit. She had no substance. As he was sizing her up, he missed his brother-in-law’s question.
“Dodge, are you listening? The girl just told us Benjamin is probably out looking for her. Her mother is at the hospital, and he may have heard this from the bakery people and gone there to locate her. Can you follow up on that?” Joseph asked. It was more of a command then a question. Uncle Dodge said he would go immediately, and Henrietta said she would go with him to show him to her mother’s room. Violet stood up and announced she was going as well.
“You stay here, Joseph, in case he comes here first.”
At the hospital, the nurse ushered the three of them into Amnesty’s room. She had combed Amnesty’s hair, spruced up her bed, and was talking to the young man sitting beside the woman. Benjam
in rose as they came into the room. “Mother, Hen, Uncle Dodge,”
Henrietta walked over and took her mother’s hand, while Violet hugged Benjamin. Uncle Dodge sized up the nurse and the deluxe private room and wondered if he might have misjudged the girl. Ben was so relieved to see them all in this space; he even gave Uncle Dodge a brief embrace. The nurse said she was glad to see them all united, but now her private patient needed a little privacy to get her rest. Henrietta could come back in the evening if she arrived before eight o’clock.
Violet was happy that her son was safe, and she had met the girl he was pursuing. Details could be ironed out over a cup of tea when she had Joseph close by to help her think everything through. She looked the girl over carefully and could see that Benjamin had an eye for beauty. She hoped the girl had character and some backing as well. She would need it to get through this gamut. Uncle Dodge wasted no time in investigating the bun girl, as he nicknamed her. She lived in a flat with her mother, who was a master baker. Amnesty’s husband had been in the U.N. Peacekeeping Force in Zaire, and died later of malaria. There were no brothers or sisters, nor could he quiz the mother as the nurse kept him out of the room. She was almost militant in her misplaced guardianship of this family, Dodge thought. Well, they weren’t going to foil him. This girl was not going to trap Benjamin. He would see to that.
On Tuesday, Dodge waited outside the girl’s flat. He had knocked on the door, but there was no answer. At nine o’clock, Henrietta came out, dressed in a pleated jumper and a school jersey. Her hair was covered with a scarf and she carried a small basket. No purse, no phone, no magazine. She walked to the bakery area, filled her basket with scones and rolls, and sold them rapidly, then took a taxi to the hospital. Dodge had not anticipated her having transport, and by the time he arrived, visiting hours for the morning were over. Or at least Captain Nurse told him they were. He did not see the girl leave, nor did he see Ben arrive. He had nothing to report to the family. Nevertheless, he allowed them to invite him for luncheon, anticipating fresh news. He acted surprised when they asked him for information. “These things take time and some delicacy,’ Dodge said. “Pass the rolls.”
