Love Patterns

by Michael B. Malone

  In the late afternoon we travelled back up the dusty road to Nairobi, through the featureless Taro desert and arrived back in the evening at our bungalow. We had a meal out and I showed Jerie on a map, where we’d been and discussed other parts of Kenya she might like to see. We went home, tired from our travels, and slept innocently and contentedly in each other’s arms. The next evening Jerie took ill with convulsive vomiting, diarrhea and sweating. I cleaned her up and took her to the local hospital, half carrying her. The doctor who was an intense Scot in his late twenties introduced himself as David Balfour. I liked him instinctively. He gave Jerie a thorough examination, prodding and squeezing her stomach and asking her questions in fluent Swahili. He asked me what she’d been eating recently. I told him, what she’d said about living on scraps in the shanty town, and the food she’d had since and how she had stuffed herself. He suggested she’d had too much rich food and her stomach just wasn’t used to it. He recommended a bland diet for a few days and suggested she be made to drink warm water with sugar and salt added to prevent dehydration. He took a blood sample.

  “Just to be sure,” he said, as he smiled reassuringly, gave me a prescription for some medicine and said he was sure that she would be up and about in a couple of days. I asked about any inoculations which Jerie should have, and he told me to come back when she was better, and he would arrange it. He asked me if I was related and I told him Jerie was my houseboy’s sister and added to my amazement that I was thinking of adopting her.

  He asked, “Are you married?”

  “Yes, my wife is a teacher in Scotland. We can’t have children.”

  His face cleared. “Are you thinking of taking her back to Scotland?”

  I almost choked, I could hardly believe he’d asked the question, but heard myself saying calmly.

  “Possibly, she’s very bright. She can read and write in English and I’d like her to get an education, either here or in Scotland.

  David smiled. “I can’t see you having much trouble if her father agrees.” He tore a sheet of paper from a pad and wrote on it. “This is the name and address of an Indian lawyer who can expedite matters for you.” He gave me a look. “You know the system here?”

  I smiled back. Bribes to the right person could surmount seemingly impossible difficulties. “I know the system.”

  “Well she seems a nice lass, hope you succeed with your plans.”

  I thanked him and carried Jerie out to the car; took her home and put her to bed. She smiled weakly at me. “Is it something bad?”

  I smiled back. “No! you, silly girl, you have just been eating too much good food.” I put my hand on her stomach. “Your poor little belly isn’t used to it.”

  She smiled again. “Why are you so good to me Bill?”

  “Because I like you silly. Now I am going to give you a bath, then you can have a nice long sleep and feel better in the morning.” She closed her eyes.

  While I waited for the bath to fill, I wondered again why I had mentioned adoption to David. It was as if there was a secret part of me making decisions of its own. I loved having her around me, and yes, I would love to watch her growing up. Perhaps she could be the daughter I never had. I remembered the promise she’d made me make. She would forget it as she grew older and met boys her own age … wouldn’t she? I felt a bit wistful at the thought. The bath filled with lukewarm water. I returned to the bedroom, carried Jerie through and gave her a quick wash, remembering with shame my fondling of the first bath. I left her lying in the bath, and listening carefully for any noise to suggest she was in trouble, I changed the soiled sheets, remade the bed and spread a large fluffy towel on top. I went back, lifted her out and worrying about how light she was, deposited her on the towel. She was shivering, so I dried her as quickly as possible; then as I saw her eyes closing, I told her not to sleep yet. I filled a tumbler with warm water, added lots of sugar and a little salt. I made her sit up and she managed a few sips before her eyes closed.

  I sat beside her that night, occasionally dozing and waking her every hour for another few sips of liquid. A few times she started shivering and I lay beside her and held her, and she smiled in her sleep and rubbed her face against my chest.

  Towards dawn, I awoke from a doze to examine her guiltily, woke her to drink more water, and fell asleep beside her. It was late in the morning when I woke to find her stroking my hair. Her eyes were brighter.

  She smiled. “I am hungry, when is breakfast?”

  “The doctor said you have not to eat much but you have to drink a lot.”

  She tossed her head, making me smile. “Oh! pooh, I am well now.” she insisted.

  “You will do as you are told.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “What will you do if I don’t?”

  I thought for a moment, she must be bored playing around the house. “I will not get you the bicycle I thought I might get you.”

  She gave me a look of astonishment. “A bicycle! I won’t eat for a month!”

  I grinned. “You don’t have to go that far, just don’t stuff yourself for two days.”

  I went through to the kitchen. Kabero greeted me.

  “Jumbo Bwana, I knock and look in bedroom, but you sleep too good, I not wake you.”

  I smiled approvingly. “Asante Kabero, that was well done. The doctor said Jerie has been eating too much good food, could you make a small bowl of thin porridge with warm milk?”

  “I do that Bwana.”

  ” I returned to the bedroom to find Jerie lying sideways with her legs over the side of the bed. She gave me a weak smile.

  “I try to get up, but the room went, round and round.”

  I scolded her. “You are a silly girl, you must stay in bed and rest.”

  I pulled the sheet back over her, helped her sit up and gave her sugared water to drink.

  “Kabero is making you some porridge, don’t gobble it. I’m going to the chemist to get you doctor Balfour’s medicine. Stay in bed until I come back.”

  She grinned at me. “What if I need the bathroom?”

  I grinned back. “Just hold it in until I get back”

  She tossed her head. Before I left I warned Kabero not to give Jerie too much to eat. I didn’t take long and Jerie was asleep when I came back. I sat by the bed. She woke about two hours later. I felt her brow she was still sweaty.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  “Tired,” she said.

  “I got you some nice medicine, do you want it now?”

  “Will it make me better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  I lifted the bottle from the bedside table and filled a teaspoon.

  “Open up,” I said.

  She obediently opened her mouth, then as I saw her lips close over the spoon I lifted it upwards, so her upper lip scraped the spoon clean as she swallowed. Her expression changed as she swallowed, and her teeth clenched together as she shook her head in disgust. She spat then wiped her tongue and lips on the sheet, swearing in Swahili. For the life of me I couldn’t stop myself laughing. I gave her the glass of sugared water to wash the taste away. She gave me a hurt look, so I tried to console her.

  “It will help you, and you only have to take it for two days.”

  She shook her head. I will not take it again, it is horrible.”

  “Remember the bicycle,” I reminded her.

  I could almost see the opposite emotions warring inside her. “How many times I have to take it?”

  “Four times a day for two days.”

  Her lips curled as she remembered the taste.

  “I take.” I couldn’t hide my grin. She glared at me then suddenly smiled. “If you take it too.”

  I was lost for words. The sly little minx. I grinned “Okay.”

  Jerie sat up with an answering grin, holding out her hand. “Your turn,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean now, I’ll take it next time.”

  No! now, you promised.”

>   “You are bad to me, I ought to send you back to your Baba.”

  She was unimpressed and continued to hold out her hand. I handed her the spoon and the bottle with a sigh. She filled the spoon as much as she could then, grinned.

  “Open your mouth Bill.”

  I resignedly obeyed and tried to swallow the sticky liquid down as quickly as I could, without tasting it, but gagged on the disgusting taste. I tried to pretend that I liked it, but couldn’t. I looked up to see the merriment in her eyes.

  “You are right, it is disgusting, but you, I mean we, still have to take it.”

  She muttered resignedly. “Okay.”

  I jumped into bed with her and we fell into each other’s arms to console each other for our ordeal. When I got up about lunchtime to ask Kabero to make more porridge I asked about Jerie and her mother. I wasn’t sure if I got the story completely correct as he used a mixture of English and Swahili to approximate his native Kikuyu concepts, but I found that “sister” included cousins and other family females, and that Jerie’s father was Kabero’s uncle. Jerie’s mother was a member of the Luo tribe of west Kenya, and Kabero believed she’d been a combination of a wise elder and a witchdoctor. He made a warding, sign, avoiding my eyes.

  “Jerie much like her, she says things that upside-down people’s heads.” When he saw my puzzled look, he explained. “She makes people think strange things.”

  I smiled in amusement. “She seems perfectly normal to me, in fact I was thinking of sending her to school if her father agrees. Do you think he would sell her to me?”

  I had a sudden dire thought. What if he wouldn’t sell her. The thought of Jerie going back to live in the shanty town appalled me. I tried not to let my feelings show as I waited for Kabero’s answer.

  “Her father not like coombas, they steal his farm, maybe he not sell.”

  “Could you ask him?”

  “I do that Bwana. You want me go today?”

  I thought that I’d better wait until I’d seen the lawyer. “No, I will wait a few days.”

  I remembered my promise of a bicycle for Jerie.

  “Do you know where I could buy a bicycle for Jerie?” I saw his look. “Make that two bicycles, one for yourself.”

  “I could ask people Bwana, you want me try today?”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll have a snack for dinner, you take the rest of the day off.” I gave him a twenty-shilling note. “Don’t get too drunk, remember to ask about the bicycles.”

  He gave a delighted smile. “Thank you very much Bwana, I ask very good.”

  I collected Jerie’s porridge, liberally sprinkled it with sugar, thinned it with milk, and woke her. She sat up in bed, her eyes brighter, grabbed the spoon and began gobbling. I put my hand over the bowl.

  “You will make yourself sick again, eat it slowly.” She slowed down, but I took the bowl away before she’d finished. “That will be enough for now, you can have more later.” I lifted the medicine and the spoon from the bedside locker and saw her

  cringe.

  “Do I have to Bill?”

  “Yes, Remember the bicycle.” She opened her mouth and swallowed the spoonful, then after gagging and swearing, she watched me carefully as I took my spoonful and made sure that I swallowed it, before I went to get her a glass of milk. I found her asleep when I came back so I left the milk on the locker.

  While I munched a sandwich, I thought that I had better get things moving and contact the lawyer. What would Kathleen say? She would have a fit. But it wasn’t as if I was really going to adopt her. I just wanted to rescue her from the camp and give her an education. Kathleen might never even see her. I finished my coffee and went to sit by Jerie’s bed, feeling her forehead and worrying about her. She woke for a short time and I made her drink the milk.

  I wondered about myself. How had I got into this? It had seemed so simple. Hire a black girl for a couple of weeks, have a good time then go back home. How had I allowed myself to be drawn into such a bizarre relationship? And adopting her? But I wanted to. Jerie’s happiness and future were suddenly very important to me. I drew my hand across my brow. I would have to tell Kathleen. I could imagine the confrontation.

  “You stupid old fool, have you gone senile? Adopting a negro girl? What are we going to do with her? What will the neighbours say? Well you can just take her straight back to where you found her.”

  I sat thinking. I remembered the happy times with Kathleen, our commitment to each other. The way we’d sat at our daughter’s bedside while she struggled for life. It did something to a man when he was present when his wife gave birth to their child. Maybe it would be better if I left Jerie in a boarding school in Kenya? Why were things always so complicated? Jerie started coughing. Alarmed I jumped up but the fit subsided. She turned on her side, opened her eyes for a moment to see me standing beside her, then as if she thought all was well, she shut her eyes again and with a smile on her lips, fell asleep. I sat looking at her, noticing for the first time how her eyelids were paler than the rest of her skin, and how entrancing her eyelashes were when closed. I couldn’t possibly let her go back to the degrading existence of the shanty town. I remembered the listless women with their fly covered babies at their breasts. That could be Jerie’s fate. No! No matter how much it cost, I wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe if her father wouldn’t sell her or let her go to a boarding school I could arrange for her to run away and meet me somewhere? I would discuss it with Jerie when she woke. I felt better. I knew that one way or another I wouldn’t let her return to fester and waste away in the camp. I sat looking at her for a while, then making my decision, I left, quietly closing the bedroom door.

  I phoned the lawyer, a Mr. Bachu, and managed to make an appointment for the next afternoon and took note of the instructions about how to find his office. I woke Jerie for lunch and again we went through the ordeal of taking the medicine.

  I read the book I’d bought about the history of Kenya, while she slept again and found out about the Luo tribe Jerie’s mother had belonged to. They occupied an area around Lake Victoria in west Kenya, were mainly fishermen and farmers and were one of the few tribes that did not practice male or female circumcision. They’d had a young dictatorial king in the early 1900s, who was feared greatly by his tribespeople, but who under the influence of the British, introduced new crops and made numerous reforms. Having seen the health and educational reforms in other parts of Africa, the king came home from a British sponsored trip, to bully his subjects into keeping better standards of hygiene and sending their children to the schools he encouraged to be set up. The result was rapid educational advance, and even today, the district was one of the most educationally progressive.

  I felt that I understood Jerie’s abilities now. Her mother who would have been well educated herself, had obviously pushed Jerie in her early years. What a pity her mother had died. From the way Jerie had spoken of her, she must have been strong-willed and would never have let her family descend to the levels of degradation they were living in now and Jerie would have been pushed to complete her education. Still, it was not too late. I would make sure that Jerie had every chance that I could give her.

  The light was starting to fade, I looked at my watch. I’d better make some dinner for her. Not porridge again, she must be getting sick of it. I hunted round the kitchen and found a tin of chicken soup, so after boiling some rice I heated the soup and mixed them together, then thinking that I ought to give her something more solid, I buttered a slice of bread.

  I shook her shoulder with one hand while holding the tray with the other. She came sleepily awake then, as she smelled the aroma of the soup, she sat bolt upright and smoothed the sheet over her lap.

  “How is my little black baby today?” I asked.

  She gave me a tart smile and replied. “Hungry,” at the same time reaching for the spoon as I set down the tray.

  I warned her again. “Don’t gobble.” Trying to make her slow down, I reminded her, “The soon
er you finish, the sooner you”, I corrected myself “ we, have to take the medicine.” She grimaced, but deliberately slowed her eating.

  A drop of soup dripped from her spoon onto one of her breasts and as she wiped it off with her finger, I realized with something of a shock, and perhaps a touch of pride, that I no longer thought of her as being naked, but accepted her as being in her natural state and nothing to get excited or sexually curious about. Again, we went through the ritual of the medicine. I ran a bath and helped her into it, leaving her to have a soak while I remade the bed and put in extra pillows, so she could sit up.

  After sitting for a while beside her, talking while she lay soaking, I washed her, helped her out of the bath and dried her. She asked if she could go outside for a walk. So, I helped her get dressed and draping my coat over her shoulders, thinking I would have to get her a light coat for the cooler evenings, took her outside. We didn’t go far, but she held onto my arm and occasionally stopped, saying that she felt dizzy, but she seemed to enjoy the short excursion, breathing in the scent of the flowers in the garden. She went back to bed when we returned and seemed sleepy, so I took away the extra pillows and left her sleeping, while I fixed myself a sandwich. Later I crept into bed beside her where she snuggled into my welcoming arms. I half awoke much later when I heard Kabero come in, and got up to make Jerie drink some sugared water, then went back to sleep and dreamed strange dreams.