by Pike, Leslie
She doesn’t say a word at first. It’s as if she’s absorbing something she didn’t expect to ever hear. Then her eyes turn to me.
“Are you certain, Belinda?”
Shit. He just said it was both our decisions. She’s a very smart woman.
“Yes, Mama. It’s a fish-out-of-water story. It’s foreign to me here. Literally and figuratively. I do love it, that I won’t deny. But loving the country and being able to devote my life to it are two different things. The worst thing about it is that part of me thinks I’d be great at it. But I’m not sure right now, and this is the timeframe we’re in. The enormity of the decision doesn’t escape me. I feel like I don’t know where to find air.”
A barely there smile lifts one corner of her mouth.
“Understood, dear. Just for the record, I think you’d be brilliant at it. But I respect your decision.”
She looks at Zan. “And yours, too son. Here’s what will happen. I’ll assume the throne with you in an advisory role. We will include Kwai as well. The people will be informed I’m carrying the reins for Nubia who will assume his duties when he comes of age. I think it’s the best option we have.”
“I think so too, Mother. I’m sorry this is a disappointment to you.”
“You could never disappoint, Zan. And no king should be forced to serve. The people would suffer.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’d never look at the honor that way. Forced isn’t a word that would ever apply to me. I think you know that. But I’m glad you’re rethinking your own place in the story. Our people love you. And beyond that they trust you.”
The gentle smile and the tilt of her head tells me she knows Zan speaks the truth.
“Tell me, Belinda, when are you returning home? And more importantly, when are you coming back?”
“Within a week, Mama. I’ll be back as soon as I can settle a few things I have to take care of in New York.”
“Lovely, dear. We will all be waiting for you. It’s not just my son who pines for your company. We are all a little less sad when you are among us.”
“What a beautiful thing to say, Mama. Really, I’m touched.”
It almost brings tears to my eyes. But a funny thing happened. When she said ‘home’, it didn’t sit well with me. And in that moment I realized how little I’ve thought of the city, or my apartment or even my job. Only my family and friends tether me to that particular ground. And now I have ties that stretch across the ocean. Is Mozia becoming home?
Chapter 27
Zan
“You didn’t need to see me off. I know you have to practice your speech.”
I give her the ‘you’ve got to be kidding look’, which consists of a crooked smile and a shake of my head.
“I’m taking you to the airport. Get over it, beautiful.”
The thirty minute drive is one I both love and hate. We get to go through the verdant hills and valleys but it means she’s leaving. Being with Belinda, waking up and going to sleep with her, has become a sweet routine. When she’s gone I feel different. Less settled.
When we’re together it’s all the small things that make me happy to be alive. It starts with the mornings. If I’m lucky enough to wake up first, I watch her face. Right before she begins to awaken, her bottom lip does this thing. It sort of pushes out like a pout. At first I wondered what dream was creating the effect. But after a while I understood it was just her way. I’ve kissed that lip, the mouth, and the rest of her awake many times, but not nearly enough to grow used to it.
But if I hold off, there’s another show. With eyes still closed, she throws back the covers. The cool air touching her warm skin. Thank all the gods and some of the more mischievous saints, for allowing me this sight.
Knowing she will be my wife is more than I ever really imagined. To be fair, getting married itself was off my radar. Then I looked at Belinda. It’s funny how quickly a man can dump his hard held beliefs about himself. That’s the effect of a woman. The woman.
Now I’m in this new strange place. Nothing has changed except for everything. The job and my station will remain the same. The appearances and speeches will go on. But I’ll be a married man, and from this point on it will be the prince and princess. She will be Her Royal Highness the Princess of Mozia. But I will not be king.
That distinction will buy us so much more freedom. She won’t have to be present at every official visit, or state dinner. We will be able to spend blocks of time in New York. I know more about the surface of the moon than I know about being married. Yet I want to be her husband. But I will not be king.
Soon mother will slip into her new role easily and with Kwai in his position and I as her advisor, Mozians will hardly notice a difference. But I will not be king.
Get it out of your mind! Shit, man, it’s a done deal. The queen is about to address the country, and there will be no going back. I check my watch. Another half hour and it will be done.
All this time while I’ve been lost in my thoughts, Belinda’s been lost in hers. I just noticed her staring out the window, but she isn’t looking at the traffic. She’s in that space between eye and object. Deep thought.
“We’ve got a detour,” Chudda says. “It’s going to add some time.”
Good. Maybe she’ll miss the flight.
“Where are you?” I say, rubbing her hand.
“Oh. Sorry. I was far away, honey.”
“Come back. We only have a few more minutes.”
I pull her to me, and we hold each other as if we’re never going to be together again. She’s very quiet. Do tapes play in her mind? Wait. What if she’s second-guessing the whole thing? Not that she loves me. Or even that she wants to marry me. Maybe she’s realizing for the first time, just what she’s getting into.
King or not, Her Majesty or princess, it’s going to change her life immeasurably. Fuck that’s what’s happening. She wants out.
I’m distracted by the turn into the district we just took. It’s one of the poorer pockets of The Capitol. The homes a little smaller, the yards not as kept. To the outsider it would look a bit shabby. But I know the real story.
This is the community that benefits most from my Best Brother and Sisters charity. Here there are more single-parent families and more children in need of role models to look up to. What’s that sign say? I see my name.
As we pass, it becomes clear. Prince Zan, King Zan!!! Each letter is a different color, and there’s three exclamation points. It’s nice to know I’m thought of that way. And as we slowly make our way in the caravan of cars, I see more of the same. What? Kwai and Nubia told me they saw the signs, but I was sure they were both exaggerating to sway my direction.
There’s more on this block than the last two. Almost every home has a sign and some display my picture. It seems this community at least likes the idea, and if I’m being truthful, I do as well. But it doesn’t matter now. She’s more important to me than any title. I chose Belinda as my destiny.
Everything had to be decided so quickly. That was the problem. That’s what finished me. Had we more time, I think I could have shown her what a meaningful life it would have been, not to say this one won’t be. Of course it will. But I could have really made her see. It’s a moot point though.
Shit. There’s no hiding from myself. I’m going to put it out there, because this may be my last chance.
We both start talking at once.
“I want to talk!” we say. There’s surprise on both our faces.
“You first,” she says.
“No you.” I’m trying to buy time, but time or not, I’m going to give it one more try.
“Is it too late to change my mind?”
My stomach drops with the thought there’s a change of heart. “About our decision?”
“Yes. I know, I made the wrong choice. You just went along with me.”
“On one level that is true, but I know we’d only be happy choosing the life we want together. I would be satisfied remaining where I am
, if it made you happy.”
“Satisfied isn’t good enough. I don’t want to settle for good. I think you and I have a real chance at great.”
Every cell in my body reacts to her declaration. I take her face in my hands and gaze into the blue.
“Really? You’re absolutely sure? They’ll be no going back, Belinda.”
Our smiles can’t be contained.
“I don’t want to go back. I never will, I promise you that. I’m prepared to give up my job and my apartment and everything I’ve known before, if it means we’re going to be together. I’ll find a new path forward with my writing. It’s clear to me now. You are meant to be the king.”
“I love you more than you’ll ever know. And I promise to always be mindful you take the journey with me.”
We come together in a gentle embrace, holding the treasure close.
“What time is it?” I suddenly realize the glaring flaw in the plan.
“Two thirty-five,” she says, looking at her phone.
“The queen’s address to the nation!”
Lowering the glass divide, I make the first royal command. “Change of plans. We need to go back to the house. Chudda, get ahold of my secretary. I’m going to need my Robe of State.” Just before the glass divide closes, he turns and looks at me. The wide smile and nod of his head says it all.
“I’ve got to stop my mother’s speech. Shit. The cameras are set up by now. She’s probably going over her notes.”
I tap on the queen’s private secretary’s name. He answers after one ring.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness.”
It throws me. Only an anointed king is referred to in that way. When I hesitate in my response, he speaks.
“Her Majesty, the queen, anticipated your call, Prince Zan.”
My mother is the smartest woman I know.
* * *
Cameras are positioned facing the antique desk the queen sits at. Flanking her stand Kwai and myself, both of us in full military dress. It’s a uniform required, but I’m not comfortable with. My service to Mozia was never as soldier. My past as a child soldier in a murderous army negated any further time required in a valid one.
I was excused. And that was a great kindness. My psychological well-being was considered. But most Mozians must serve a term of two years upon their eighteenth birthday. Tarik did with valor, much to our parents’ pride. And even Kwai did his duty in an exemplary way. Becoming a helicopter pilot birthed a passion in him for flying, and a reputation as a good one.
The director signals for the cameras to start rolling and speaks to the queen.
“Your Majesty, we wait on your command.”
I straighten my sleeves and watch Kwai doing the same.
“Are you ready, son?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Kwai, are you?”
He nods. “Let’s give them something to talk about, Mother.”
She smiles and looks at each of our faces.
“I’m so proud of you both. Your father and Tarik are smiling on us today.”
Then she nods to the director. “Let’s begin.”
“And five…four…three…two…,” And with one finger held up, the broadcast is live.
“When I spoke to you last, upon the death of King Mansa, I asked, whatever your religion, to pray for me. And to ask that God give me wisdom and strength to carry out the decisions I would make. I didn’t know how much I’d come to rely on your support.
Today, I’m coming to you with the future of Mozia in mind. We are passing from what we’ve known to what we’ve yet to learn. This is a new world stage. One that requires young minds and hearts to lead. It is my great privilege to share our way forward.”
* * *
I feel like I’m in some kind of dream. Everything more intense and vibrant than normal. People’s faces, conversations and even me. Tonight’s dinner, given by the queen, is the first of many social activities already scheduled in the months before my coronation. All of a sudden people are looking at me differently. It’s understandable. Hey, it’s new for all of us.
Experience being a prince has educated me immeasurably. I’m not starting at step one. I can navigate a Council meeting and understand the nuances of our country’s strengths and weaknesses. It will serve me well in the coming years.
As we stand greeting people and enjoying conversations, I see a familiar face. A familiar body in a tight-armed suit. Three hundred pounds of my favorite Zulu is coming toward Belinda and me. I put out my hand and he pulls me against him in a powerful hug.
“King Zan.”
The sound of my new name makes him laugh. But it doesn’t bother me at all. He remembers the boy my father asked him to befriend. When we part I see the tears in his eyes. Now in mine.
“Chief Waju, I’d like to present the future Queen Consort, Belinda.”
With arms open wide, he invites her inside. There’s no stiff greeting here.
“I stand ready to serve you, Your Highness.”
“Thank you…” The rest of her response is muffled in Chief Waju’s massive arms.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, Your Highness!”
Belinda straightens her collar and smiles. “Don’t worry, Chief Waju. I much rather enjoy a good hug than a handshake.”
The Chief sizes up his new Queen Consort. He looks around, making sure no one’s listening.
“Our family received our invitation to your wedding this month, Your Highness. Thank you for including us. It’s a great honor. May I send you a token of the Zulu Nation’s affection?”
The look on my soon to be bride’s face is priceless. In this moment Belinda sees just how unusual her life is going to be.
Chapter 28
Belinda
The music of Africa plays softly in the background. There’s so much laughter and conversations rising from the dinner table, the music hasn’t a chance. We are a loud blended family. Well, almost. Tomorrow’s nuptials will make it official.
As I look around at the faces of our families, it almost brings tears to my eyes. My mother and Queen Ayana are touching hands and laughing at something someone has said. Kwai is leaning in to my sister’s ear. She’s smiling and pressing her lips together. What’s that about?
I shoot a look to Soraya, who of course is watching the whole thing. She smiles, nods, and raises a wine goblet to me. The sense of how deep our friendship is settles in my heart.
James and Susan are being entertained by Tarik’s children, who seem to be bonding with their new American friends. A bit ago I saw James showing Nubia something on his cell.
My father, who can talk to anybody, is chatting up the Zulu Chief. I wonder if they’re talking about his gift to me?
I feel a squeeze of my hand under the table. Looking into his emerald eyes, a message passes between us. Yes darling, I feel it.
“Kiss me. We can talk later,” he says grinning.
So I do. Right there in front of God and country. And it’s laced with all the love I feel. This setting, the beauty of the batik and beaded decorations, even the people that are with us, fade away. It’s just us.
“God, I love you woman.”
I rest my head on his chest and feel the beating of his heart.
“Toast!!” Kwai says, standing and tapping his champagne flute with the knife. “Does everyone have champagne?”
The waitstaff is perfect as usual. I haven’t seen them miss a beat, whether it’s an official dinner or family meal.
“I have a few things to say. Is anyone surprised?” he jokes.
“I’m surprised it’s just a few,” my husband-to-be calls.
All around the table I see the happy faces. Those familiar with Kwai get the joke. My family goes along with it, joining in the laughter.
“Anyway, since I was rudely interrupted by a future king, it’s protocol that I don’t tell him to F off.”
The laughter rises. Even the queen is holding it in, while shaking her head.
&nb
sp; “I won’t stifle you, brother!” Zan teases. “If you behaved, how would we recognize you?”
That one even makes me giggle.
Kwai’s face softens. “But really my brother, I want you to know what I feel. How I think of you.”
The guests quiet and I feel Zan squeeze my hand. Without words or a look, I know his eyes are welling with tears.
“You and I and Tarik were always best friends. A rowdy band of brothers. Well, maybe I was the rowdy part. But besides being my brother, did you know you were my hero?”
Oh God. Immediately I watch the eyes of our guests fill with tears. Even my father feels the emotion of the moment. Zan makes a quiet sound that says he’s holding back his emotions.
“Heroes are plentiful in our family,” Kwai continues. “But I think we pick one person who you sort of want to be like. For me brother, it was you.”
With that, Zan stands and goes to Kwai. They embrace and hold tight for a few beats. Both have tears running down their faces, and so does every person here.
“And I think you’ve found your own heroine in Belinda. I want to raise my glass and say I wish you both every happiness.”
Everyone raises their flute in unison.
There’s whistles and hear hear’s all around.
“I’m going to cry like a baby if I say anything but thank you,” Zan says, returning to his seat.
I take his hand and kiss his wet cheek.
“Now me,” my brother James says. “That’s going to be impossible to follow, but I’ll try. I want to welcome Zan and his gracious family to ours. This chapter of our family’s story is unexpected. I’m pretty certain none of us ever thought our little sister would marry a king. We were just hoping whoever she married was worthy of her.”
Chuckles all around the table.
