Esther's Well

by Beth Kean

  Control yourself, he ordered as the nightdress slipped back into place and she began to shuffle back beside her mattress. Just relax Peter, don't do anything stupid, you are feeling horny, but this girl is probably still half asleep, she has given no indication of interest beside my own hypothesis, which could be correct, but could just as easily be utter bull and imagination. She has made no invitation, and let's face facts, she's no more than twenty five, you're almost forty... you are flattering yourself!

  Darkness engulfed him again as he heard the faintest of puffs as she blew the candle, and Peter was left blind, except for the images that crowded his mind, the sweet and dainty toes, the tight curls that he longed to stroke, and the delicate pink that he knew would feature in many future dreams.

  Go to sleep, he sighed, and turned over.

  “Mr Peter, are you awake?” her whisper was almost silent. She had heard his sigh, heard him turn.

  “Yes Esther,” he replied quietly, “I'm not sleeping.”

  “I'm sorry,” she replied, a little louder, “Did I wake you?”

  You have no idea just how much you have woken me. The thought brought a smile to his lips and a renewed vigour to his loins. “No,” he replied, “Why would you have woken me?”

  “I just wondered.” he debated if he heard a hint of relief in her voice, maybe she had been half asleep and suddenly remembered that a strange man was lying almost close enough to touch as she squatted over a bucket with her nightie hitched up almost around her ears. “I lit my candle, I was worried that I disturbed you.”

  You can disturb me like that any time you want, again he suppressed a chuckle and composing himself he replied evenly, “Honestly, you have not disturbed me, but I wouldn't mind knowing the time... as I'm awake now.”

  Matches rattled seconds before one flared, the light illuminated her face, Peter felt a crazy urge to slide under the blanket and kiss her, an urge that he sensibly quashed.

  “There is a clock in the living room,” she said softly, “Let me check for you.”

  “I have my watch,” Peter replied, but his response was too slow, Esther had peeled away her sheet and now stood, her feet striding toward the doorway, appreciatively he studied her shapely ankles, and dainty toes. It was a fetish that he had never been able to fully explain, but very few things had greater ability to drive him crazy with lust than a well turned ankle and pretty toes.

  “It's almost five thirty,” she announced a few seconds later, “If you are ready, it's not too early to get that shower you mentioned.”

  “Where do you shower?” he asked, sitting up in bed.

  “Come with me,” she laughed, “I'll show you, it's not quite light yet, but if you can cope with cold water I'll prepare for you now, just bring a towel, I have soap.”

  Peter struck a match and quickly lit his candle as he heard her open the back door. Follow you now? In just my boxers? “Why not,” he whispered, “She's out there in just a nightie, it obviously isn't stressing her, so why should I worry... we have slept in the same room!”

  “Have you checked for snakes?” he called as he stood in the doorway. Dawn had not broken, but he sensed its impending arrival, beside the thickest stand of bananas her candle flickered, Esther bent over a wide plastic bowl.

  “You are safe, come, everything is ready!” He saw her beckon, the candle backlit her as had happened the previous evening, the outline was not as clearly defined, but combined with what he had witnessed shortly before the effect quickly prompted another rush of blood.

  Damn, he thought, his cheeks prickled and he knew that if the sun had been shining she could see that he had transformed into something similar in colour to a beetroot. Quickly he covered his embarrassment with his towel and tiptoed tentatively into the half light of a swiftly breaking dawn.

  “I'm sorry that there is no proper bathroom here,” she apologised as she handed him a bar of soap, but it is really very private, no-one can see in from outside, and please don't tip the water when you have finished, I will use it to water my vegetables.”

  “Do you have enough for yourself?” instantly he recalled their conversation from the previous afternoon, she had enough water for her own shower and cooking. She had cooked for two and made double the tea.

  “I can shower later,” she replied with a small smile, “That is not a problem.”

  “It is a problem for me,” he replied swiftly and offered her the soap and his towel, “Now don't argue with me Esther. You go first, leave me some water, I will shower straight after you.”

  “Are you sure?” he sensed the incredulity in her voice, “Seriously... because I really don't mind!”

  Peter chuckled, and smiled, a broad smile prompted by a strange sense of familiarity, somehow sharing with her felt completely right. “Esther,” he began, “I can't explain, and you will probably think that I'm nuts, but I feel so comfortable with you, and taking a shower straight after you also feels natural.”

  “Its settled then,” she replied quietly and took the soap from his hand, “I won't take long, and when I'm finished I will warm some tea and matoke, then we can walk to the river... if you still want to!”

  “Nothing could stop me.” Peter looked into her eyes as he passed her his towel, he had never found himself attracted to the easy, and probably working girls that he had encountered in Nairobi and Pretoria, yet as he gazed into Esther's deep and dark eyes he felt an irresistible urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. Control yourself he warned as emotions began to run high.

  “Thank you Peter,” Esther added as she took the towel and placed it carefully beside the half filled bowl, slowly she turned and smiled before raising an eyebrow, questioning.

  “Oh God I'm sorry!” Peter felt himself flush again, “What am I thinking!” swiftly he turned away, but not before catching the mirth in her eyes.

  “For a moment I thought that you were insisting on watching me.” she laughed.

  I really wish that I could, the words rang clearly in his mind as he ducked back inside the house, I really wish that I could.

  Nervously he sat on his mattress, his mind raced, she had turned him inside out , overnight, he admitted, less than twenty four hours earlier he had casually dismissed her as not his type... too young. Now he felt himself falling into a full blown fantasy.

  “Peter!” he heard her quiet voice at the door, “I'm finished.”

  Unsure of himself he called back quickly, “Thanks, I'm coming now.”

  Esther stepped through the door, the towel wrapped tightly over her breasts, Peter fought the urge but failed as he glanced down, he knew the towel, it was his after all, swiftly he confirmed what he had suspected, the bottom reached only to the juncture of her legs, and inch shorter and she would have been faced with a decision, expose breasts or expose her mound, luck had saved her the difficult choice, but only just. Quickly she slipped behind the dividing blanket.

  “Here,” she called quietly, Peter glanced down in time to witness the towel drop around her ankles, “Sorry, it slipped,” she laughed, and stooping quickly she scooped it up and thrust it below the fabric barrier. “I'll get dressed and then make us tea.”

  “Thanks,” he chuckled, his composure returning, the situation no-longer feeling quite so surreal, “I'm ready for hot tea, I guess that you don't have coffee?”

  Stupid question, he told himself as he strode to the bananas, he had known in his heart that a girl who lived on the razors edge would not have such a luxury. Oh well, he sighed as he slipped his boxers down to his ankles before draping them over a short branch, there is something so intimate about sharing her water, a stranger in most aspects, yet I feel so incredibly close.

  Crouching he scooped water in his cupped hands and soaked his chest, the cold snatching his breath and amazing him that water could be so chilly in such a hot climate. “A quick shower,” he laughed as he developed a lather, “And probably a good thing that it’s a cold shower, especially as I've been feeling so bloody horny.�
� he added with a whisper.

  The scraping of an aluminium pan caused him to freeze, the sound originated directly behind, the sound of metal on rock, the three rocks that he knew stood equidistant around Esther's charcoal cooking fire, no more than twenty feet behind where he now crouched naked.

  “Is that you?” he asked quietly.

  “It is,” she laughed, “But don't worry, I'm not peeping, I'm just trying to get the charcoal lit, we need to leave very soon, just pretend that I'm not here.”

  “Easier said than done,” he whispered before adding in a louder voice, “Now that I know, perhaps tomorrow I can get the fire lit while you shower... to save time.”

  “Okay,” she laughed happily, “That makes sense.”

  My God... naive, or a complete tease? The thought pressed as he glanced over his shoulder, Esther squatted beside the fire, she faced him directly yet as he studied her he understood that her concentration was fixed exclusively on the charcoal... his confusion and doubts mounted.

  Naive, he finally admitted sadly and wrapped the towel around his waist, the delusions of the early hours fading into embarrassment and thankfulness that he had not acted on impulse and ruined a developing and completely innocent friendship.

  Chapter 7

  It felt as though he had been walking for hours, one hour and fifteen minutes to be exact he thought glancing at his wrist watch. Esther walked at his side, setting the pace and chattering happily. They had shared a frugal breakfast together, reheated matoke bananas and sweet tea, the staple diet across the region, and he had almost choked as the stodgy and tasteless food threatened to stick in his throat, never a fan of the Ugandan favourite, he found the village cooked variety even less appealing, it's like eating... he hunted for another food equally unappealing, failing dismally, well, it's exactly as it is, it's like eating boiled unripe bananas... an experience I don't ever need to repeat! Yet he had already resigned himself to at least a week of the same.

  Who am I to complain? This girl has opened up her home to me, she has opened up herself, he acknowledged, since the ice had broken that morning, the shared shower being the turning point in his mind, she had been a different person, more confident, maintaining eye contact, her former shyness and submissive traits having disappeared. And all that I do is complain because I don't like the only food that she can afford to offer me... pretty shallow Peter, he chastised himself silently, Okay, you hate bloody matokes, but it isn't going to kill you... is it? Next week I can get back to proper food, she doesn't have that option, she has more bananas to look forward to.

  “The well should allow proper irrigation.” he stated during a pause in her happy commentary, she had almost taken the roll of tour guide pointing out interesting or unusual features, medicinal herbs, ant-lion traps in the sand and a myriad of other snippets and facts, “Across in Turkana they are growing virtually everything... maize, tomatoes, beans... even lettuce”

  Esther nodded, “When it rains here, everything grows so well. I plant aubergine on my land, or cabbages... it doesn't really matter what I plant, it always grows. So the well is vital to the community, we won't survive without it.”

  “Do you think that it will rain this season?”

  Esther shrugged. “Only God knows that for sure. Personally, I don't think that it will. Look at the sky Peter.” She paused and lowered her water container to the ground, “Not a single cloud in sight... not one. The rainy season is just around the corner, and other years past, right now the sky would be filled with clouds, dark heavy clouds. You could almost feel the rain coming, there is a curious darkness, everything feels... heavy, I often have headaches. But this year, blue skies, and no headaches. No, I don't think that it will rain.”

  “Without the well, what would you do?”

  Esther laughed quietly. “The same thing that I always do. Walk to the river each morning, just as I have been doing for months, tend my bananas, grow a few greens... survive!”

  “Our research shows that without the seasonal rains, the river will be dry within the next two or three months.”

  The fact had obviously not been common knowledge in the village, and Esther gasped as the enormity sunk in. “Are you sure?” she shook her head as Peter nodded slowly, “What would we do?”

  “If another water source couldn't be found, and if the rains didn't come... you would have to move.”

  “Leave my home, my land!” Esther shook her head. “I couldn't do that, my land is all that I have, all that is left of my family, my inheritance.”

  “Let's hope that the geologists are correct,” Peter gave her a small smile and quietly berated himself for opening a fresh wound, sometimes ignorance really is bliss he understood as a heaviness descended onto his heart. He had placed worry in her head, he had opened a door and shown her a bleak and uncertain future, he had shattered her happy and carefree mood. “They are sure that deep underground there is a huge water deposit, they just have to drill down into it, the pressure should then force fresh water to the surface.”

  That was the theory, and he saw her mood brighten visibly as he mentioned the massive aquifer, the problem is, they also think that this place here is on the very edge, there's not even a 50/50 chance of sinking a serviceable well. But that was a gem that he decided to keep to himself, he had crushed her and then thrown a lifeline, it would have been the ultimate cruelty to snatch it away again so soon. He felt a fraud and wished that he had kept his mouth shut, he hadn't needed to tell her about the river, he shouldn't have told her. Now he had given her a large helping of potentially false hope, less than a fifty percent chance of saving her village, not good odds, realistically, he should have compounded his initial stupidity by adding that bitter pill to the mix, but he hadn't, he had back tracked, he had delayed what he felt deep in his heart to be inevitable.

  And if the well comes up dry? He grimaced as he pictured her devastation. Not even twenty four hours had passed since they first met and already she was under his skin, the act of giving her hope had made him responsible for her, especially if the hope turned out to be without basis. What will I do if it is dry... can I just turn my back on her and walk away. Sorry Esther, your life is officially screwed! Yes I know that I told you it would all work out for the best... Guess what? I lied to make you feel better after I screwed up by telling you in the first place! Sorry... bye!

  Peter's feet began to drag, the weight on his soul a heavy burden to carry, Esther edged ahead slightly and the sight of her shapely rear only added to his feelings of woe.

  She really is magnificent, he decided as he studied her sensual shape, the natural swing to her hips, the leso wrapped around her waist not detracting from the aura of raw sexuality that she oozed. What will I do?

  On they walked in silence, maybe Esther sensed the dark cloud that had descended, but regardless, her demeanour had reverted to shy and withdrawn.

  Inside Peter a battle raged as his conscience weighed responsibility. Rationality told him that in the cold light of day he owed her nothing, except maybe an apology for clarifying her jeopardy, and a reasonable helping of sympathy, but beyond that...?

  Beyond that? He questioned, if the rains fail again, which is very likely, if the well is dry, also very possible, what are her options? Relocate to Kampala, or Jinja, any city or major town, find a job, an apartment. The other option, get relocated to a camp, become an Internally Displaced Person, the infamous IDP that no-one wants as a neighbour, the one that can't be trusted!

  “I can't let that happen.” he whispered, determination in his voice. I owe her nothing, but I will find a way to help her.

  “Is everything al-right Mr Peter,” she asked, more than five minutes had passed and the silence continued.

  “Fine,” he replied, “And Esther, please, what did I say yesterday? Just Peter, or Pete if you like... but drop the Mister!”

  “You have been so quiet, I hope that I didn't say anything to upset you, I know that I talk too much sometimes.”

 
Peter smiled, how could he explain that it had been something that he had said that had induced the silence, but it didn't really matter, he had made his decision, he would do what he could to get her established if she had to relocate, he would ease his conscience, and in a way, he relished the thought of making her life a little easier. “Not really quiet, just thinking,” he replied, “About the meeting when we get back, with Chief Joshua. There are many things to put in place, I need to see the selected site, it has to be cleared of vegetation before the drill arrives... lots of things to arrange.”

  “Who decided where to drill?” she asked quietly, “A surveyor?”

  Peter chuckled. “Doubtful, there hasn't really been time, unless a team came here earlier?” he noted her shaken head and continued. “Usually it's the local head-man, or community leader that suggests a place, but the drilling team are the experts really, they decide the most likely spot from those indicated.”

  “And what part do you play?”

  Peter paused for a moment, knocked from his stride, it was a question that he hadn't anticipated, and beyond admitting that he was eyes and ears on the ground, he struggled for justification.

  “I'm the project manager,” he began, “The organisation that I work for is funding the project, in a way I am here to oversee their investment, to make sure that everything goes ahead smoothly, settle disputes.”

  “So if the locations offered by the Chief are not good, you can tell him no and look somewhere else?”

  “In theory,” Peter nodded and sensed that she was leading up to something, gently he gave a little push. “From what I have been told, there shouldn't be much difference between sites within a few hundred metres radius, what I mean is, we could drill right here where we are standing now, or walk for five minutes in any direction and still stand a fairly equal chance of finding water. But I'm guessing that isn't why you asked the question, maybe there is some doubt behind a certain officials motives?”