Telesa - The Covenant Keeper

by Lani Wendt Young

  “Oh yes, and who is your mother?”

  I paused, realizing I didn’t actually know her surname, “Her name is Nafanua.”

  The shattering glass had both Daniel and I on our feet. Mama had dropped the glass of lemonade. It lay on the ground, the scatter of glass fragments like glistening teardrops on the cement.

  “Mama, are you okay?” Daniel was full of concern but the old lady waved him away.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry. So clumsy of me, the glass just slipped right out of my hands. Perhaps I’m a little tired, a bit too much sun. If you’ll excuse me, I might go in and take a little rest.” Mama stood and turned to me. “Leila, it was a pleasure to meet you. I always enjoy meeting Daniel’s friends.”

  With that, she walked back into the house, leaving Daniel and I to clean up the mess. I was shell-shocked. I just knew that the woman had dropped that glass because she heard me say my mother’s name. She hated me. She warned her grandson to stay away from me. She knew something about me, about my mother, that I didn’t. My hands were shaking as I helped Daniel pick up the glass and take the dishes inside. In the cool dimness of the kitchen, we worked together to wash the cups. My appetite had vanished, so Daniel consumed four of the coconut buns while I dried everything and put them away. I looked around. It was a comfortable kitchen. Baby pictures of a chubby little boy with cheeky green eyes smiled at me from the fridge door. A baby held by a distinguished silver-haired man in blue overalls.

  “Is this you and your grandfather?”

  Daniel smiled. “Yep, that’s us.”

  “You’re lucky, to have such good parents. A good home. It feels so … complete here. Thank you for bringing me. I’m sorry that your grandmother didn’t like me.” My tone dared Daniel to contradict me.

  He shrugged easily. “Hey, isn’t that classic though? Your parents are never supposed to like the girl you bring home! I bet your dad absolutely despised the boys you took home.”

  The laughter spilled out before I could stop it. The idea of boys wanting to go home and meet my dad was ridiculous. The thought of boys wanting to go anywhere with me was even more funny. Daniel looked at me curiously but I just shook my head and declined to offer any explanations. It was quiet in the house. And too close for comfort in the kitchen. Daniel was too tall, too big – he filled the air, every breath I took tasted of him. And while I thrilled to be alone with him, I was conscious of his grandmother somewhere in the house. Probably seething at my presence. My eyes flashed,

  “Hey, can we check out the workshop now?”

  “Sure. What time do you have to be home though? Don’t you have a super tight curfew?”

  I waved my hand airily at him as we strolled out to the shop. “Nah. That’s the one bonus of staying with Nafanua. She doesn’t mind me being out late. She’s a little more in tune with the 21st century.”

  The rest of the afternoon whiled away in fascinating fire and sparks. Sene was working on a set of wrought iron gates in the far corner, so Daniel and I donned helmet and overalls. He then proceeded to walk me through some of the welding basics. It was hot, humid work but enthralling as the blue fire alternately cut through and joined pieces of metal. Daniel left me to practice welding a straight line on a scrap piece of metal while he helped Sene to solder two frames together. It was with a jolt that I realized the sun was setting, as Daniel turned off the welder.

  “Hey, welder woman, it’s time to quit! You’re going to burn a hole right through the floor soon.”

  Sene laughed as they both stood and watched me come out of my blue fire daze. I was flushed and exhilarated.

  “That was amazing! Thank you, I loved it. If you’re taking on apprentices, then I’m the woman for the job.”

  Sene’s reply was a rough guffaw, “Just what we need, another complete novice around here, as if I don’t have enough to deal with trying to clean up Daniel’s messy work!”

  The two men continued to joke as they put the gear away and packed up the workshop. It was a cool relief to peel off the overalls, down to my thin t-shirt and cut-off denim shorts. I bunched my wiry mane of unhelpful hair into a messy chunk at my neck, longing for a cold shower as I walked out to the Wrangler. The ocean was coming in at high tide across the road and the setting sun was throwing crimson fire haphazardly across the blue easel of sky. I paused.

  “Wow, you get to see that every day… this is a great spot to live. You must go swimming every day.”

  Daniel avoided my eyes. “Nah. The ocean isn’t my thing. Shall we go get my car?”

  I didn’t pursue his swift changing of the subject. I had completely forgotten about his truck. “Ohmigosh, I’m sorry, yeah, we better get your green bomb,” I teased, “otherwise she might think you’ve run off with a sexy black Wrangler and abandoned her forever under the mango trees!”

  We farewelled Sene and drove back to the school where deepening shadows were beginning to slink from their hiding places. The place was deserted, the only activity coming from across the field where the hostel students were gathering for dinner at the canteen. Daniel hopped out and walked over to the driver’s side. Concern creased his face as he looked down at me.

  “I’m sorry I kept you so late. I don’t like you driving home by yourself. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m driving a new Wrangler, how unsafe could it possibly be?”

  He was unconvinced. “I’m going to follow you though. Just to make sure you get home okay. And give me your cell-phone number so I can check you get in alright.”

  He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Night was fast falling as we drove the long route up to Aleisa and I had to admit that the reassuring gleam of his headlights behind me was a comfort, especially when I had to turn off the main road to the long drive up into the mountain isolation. We were almost to the house when my phone buzzed. It was him.

  “You okay? I’m glad I followed you, your mom’s place is miles away from anything.”

  “Yeah, I’m good. And thank you. For following me. I was kind of worried.”

  “No problem. I’ll make sure not to keep you so late next time. Drive safe.”

  “Umm Daniel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks. For today. I had a great time. Even though your grandmother hated me.”

  His laugh was low and sweet, his voice sending ripples of electricity through me. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s probably just worried that you’re a wild woman who’s going to lead me astray or set fire to the workshop with your over-enthusiastic welding attempts. See ya tomorrow Leila.”

  He blinked his high beams twice before turning to drive away back down the road. I continued on without him, warmed by the memory of the afternoon. I had parked the Wrangler in the garage beside the other vehicles, when my phone beeped with a text message.

  ‘Wan 2 go running 2 moro afta skol? Wan 2 c if u as good as Maleko says u r!’

  ‘U R On. B redy 4 d-feat.’ was my swift reply.

  There was a loopy smile on my face as I went in to the house. Which slipped once I heard the hum of voices. My mother had company. There were five women gathered in the living room with Nafanua, sitting scattered throughout the expansive space. Sipping tea, talking, laughing. Everyone paused in their conversation when I came in, faces filled with curiosity. Their every gaze took me in from head to toe. Stale sweat from a day in Samoan humidity. Grease stains on my legs and arms. Two band aids where I had burned myself on the welder. Hair a disheveled bird’s nest. Mismatched jandals. A t-shirt that used to be white. I cringed and waited for the restrained displeasure that I was so accustomed to in the Folger family. Displeasure that didn’t come.

  My mother stood and welcomed me with a smile.

  “Leila! Here you are. How lovely. I’d like you to meet some of my sisters. I’ve told them all about you and they’ve been dying to meet you. Please, come in and let me introduce you.”

  I smiled weakly and gestured to my oily state. “Umm, nice to see you ladies. Nafanu
a, if it’s okay with you, I’ll just run upstairs and take a shower first? I’m ah … kind of nasty.”

  There was a ripple of laughter from the women. Nafanua joined in and waved me upstairs with graceful ease. “Yes, maybe it’s best that you shower first. Come down when you’re presentable.” As I lightly tripped up the curved stairs she called out, “Leila, I hope you don’t mind, I did a bit of shopping and got you a few things. They’re on your bed. I hope you like them.”

  I groaned, imagining the outfits she would have picked out for me. The sight of my double bed overflowing with shopping bags had me coming to an abrupt halt. “What the - ?!” There must have been at least a dozen of them if not more. I took a swift peek, there were shoe boxes and glimpses of denim, neatly folded piles of cotton tees, other mysterious folds of emerald green linen and startling red. Shaking my head, unsure what to think, I took a much-needed shower. Standing under the cold sluice, I smiled still as I thought back over the afternoon with Daniel. So what if his grandmother didn’t like me. That was nothing I wasn’t used to. My own grandmother didn’t like me so it shouldn’t bother me if his didn’t! It took two generous handfuls of shampoo to get the welding smoke smell out of my hair but still my enthusiasm for the work did not dim. My pulse raced as I thought about Daniel and I welding side by side, the flash of his eyes laughing at me from behind the protection of the steel helmet. I relived my flush of happiness at his closeness, his smile, his protective shielding of me as the flames spit and hissed. Thinking of him brought another pang of delicious excitement, but also a knife stab of uncomfortable dread. Because – while I was completely entranced with this beautiful boy who could sense my saddest of moods and replace them with soaring lightness, who could make me alternately smile and grimace at his teasing – I wasn’t sure how he felt about me. And that was enough to bring me back down to earth with a crash.

  I put Daniel out of my mind while I foraged through Nafanua’s purchases. Only one day in her house and she had read me well. Yes, there were some rather elegant and slinky outfits that I pulled a face at and shoved aside. But mostly there were items I actually could see myself wearing. The beloved denim shorts and jeans. Relaxed fit. The white cotton tees and singlets. There was a bag of lingerie too. More of my Bendon favorites. Nothing too racy. But the shoes were not standard Leila issue. Gold wired sandals, black stilettos, red platforms, even a pair of gladiator-style wrap shoes that would reach above the knee. Ha, I threw them all in the closet with a snort. But I didn’t want to keep Nafanua and her friends waiting too long. Quickly, I dressed in the new clothes, denim and cotton, dragged a brush through my hair – I didn’t want Nafanua to be ashamed of me. Not so soon anyway. I walked back down the stairs, bits and pieces of conversation drifting up.

  “She’s beautiful, Nafanua – she looks so much like you, incredible!”

  “How much have you told her?”

  “Yes, what does she know? What can she do?”

  Nafanua put the talk to a stop, catching sight of me on the stairs. “Ah Leila, please come and meet everyone. These are my sisters.”

  I met a bewildering array of women – all stunning, with long hair and dark liquid eyes, the sultry pout to their perfect lips, all with the same ageless look Nafanua wore with such ease. The kind where you take unobtrusive glances every so often trying to search out unblemished skin, unwrinkled foreheads and try to put a finger on an age. They each wore vibrant colors, so together the room seemed like a bouquet of tropical flowers.

  Fouina in green, seemed the youngest of the group. A slight woman with russet brown hair and pale skin who hung back and greeted me shyly. Manuia had no such hesitancy. Tall, with a majestic luscious figure that she displayed with fiery confidence in a shimmering purple dress – it left little to the imagination. She greeted me with loud exclamations and a perfume-laden embrace. “Oka! Nafanua, what a stunning daughter you have here. Leila, you eclipse your mother in every way, totally eclipse her, a ea girls?!”

  They all laughed at her teasing as I turned to meet the third stranger. Fotu was tall and slender with sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes that made a striking contrast with her golden tanned skin. Her fuchsia ruffled outfit flounced as she embraced me warmly. Then there was Mina, her red silk kimono-style dress emphasizing her Asian-Samoan features. The final sister did not move to greet me. Sitting languidly in a straight-backed armchair, she merely stared at me with a half smile on her lips.

  Sarona. Midnight black hair that fell in straight lines down her back. Together with heavily black-lined eyes, she had an almost Egyptian air about her. There was something else too. Something hostile. Her red smile didn’t reach her eyes. “We meet again Leila Pele Folger.”

  Puzzled, I shook my head, “No, I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Another cold smile and an airy wave of her hand. “Oh, yes we have. Only you wouldn’t remember. I was there with your mother when you were born. Now that was a night to remember, wasn’t it Nafanua?!”

  My mother looked disconcerted and her eyes flashed a warning at Sarona as she drew me to sit beside her on the long sofa. “Enough of that. So Leila, tell us all about yourself. There’s so much we want to know about you.”

  With introductions out of the way, the women settled back around the table laid with platters of finger foods. I sat and listened to their chatter, answering their questions – school, hobbies, likes, dislikes, my plans for the future. They carefully avoided any trespassing into the zones that would include my dad so, after a while, I relaxed. As evening wore on, the group went back to their conversation and I nibbled on dinner and listened. Listening to them was answering some of my questions about my mother – chiefly – what did she do?

  As far as I could gather, Nafanua worked as an environmental consultant for a few of the regional organizations that had their headquarters here in Apia – like SPREP and UNESCO. But most of her time was spent in her garden and her lab. There she worked with traditional remedies to make medicines and other concoctions that she then offered to Western research companies to bid on.

  “We own the patents for several very important plant-based drugs. That’s how we’re able to fund our other ventures that are very dear to us.” explained Nafanua.

  Sarona interrupted before I could speak. “Oh yes, thanks to your mother’s plant work, the sisterhood is filthy rich, isn’t it girls? Only the rest of us don’t get much say over what happens to all that filth, since your mother is the leader of our foundation. And the rest of us have to grovel to big sister, the holder of the purse strings.”

  “Sarona!” Nafanua’s voice was low and venomous.

  There was an awkward silence as the bitterness in Sarona’s comment settled into the room, curling up in nooks and crannies, squirming into every empty space. Nafanua and Sarona locked eyes and an invisible wire of tension strained to break between them.

  I rushed to redirect the conversation. “Umm, so what kind of ventures do you fund?” I asked.

  There was eagerness as the other women seized on the conversation shift. They explained that while Mina worked closely with Nafanua in the lab, the rest of them together, ran two main operations. The first was an animal rescue hospital. Fouina was a qualified vet and worked with two other volunteer vets from New Zealand to carry out village education programs on animal welfare, and provide free animal medical care. Her eyes lit up as she described how their program worked and the progress they had made in several areas with raising awareness and compassion. Fotu also helped out but was really a dancer. “She’s the best dancer on the island.” Fouina added, “Everyone brings their daughters to Fotu hoping she will choose to instruct them. But she only ever teaches a couple of girls each year.”

  The second was a Women’s Refuge that provided legal and financial assistance to women and children trying to escape abusive homes. Manuia was the patron. Sarona was a lawyer with her own practice and provided the legal counsel for the refuge clients. Manuia’s face darkened as she spoke of
the frustration of assisting battered women who then refused to prosecute their abusive partners and then – after their injuries had healed – insisted on returning home to their abuse. “Honestly, sometimes working with these women can be so depressing!” she exclaimed loudly.

  Sarona chose the moment to comment sardonically, “Well Manuia, what do you expect, they’re just ordinary women. Pathetic. Weak. And taught no better than to lie down and take it. With a smile.” She laughed without humor and the others frowned at her.

  Nafanua concluded, “Well, there you have it Leila, that about sums it up for us. You’ll see a lot of my sisters – they each have their own homes spread out over the estate but we come together every day. We’re just a regular family. We work together, play together, and, of course, sometimes we fight together. But then, that’s what makes families so special isn’t it?”