Robin came out and called my name but I ducked down and he didn’t see me. I picked and picked the seat stuffing. Zami came around shushing with his broom like he does every day even though there’s nothing to sweep. Tony went with him. Then Silumko came out and him and Zami sat on the back step eating porridge. They ate it with their hands instead of with spoons and they ate it in silence. I tried to make the sound of the bird I always hear but they knew it was me not a bird. I whistled at them and they looked but they couldn’t see me. In the end Tony showed Zami where I was. It was a good game and I wanted to play it again but Robin came out and said it was time to go. While the grown-ups were getting ready Zami taught us how to drive the Jeep by showing what pedals to press and how to change gears.
I didn’t want to go in Beautiful’s car and Robin didn’t either, even though it was an Audi. We made Nan and Grandad go with her and we went with Dad. It was a long journey. I watched Dad’s driving the whole time but he didn’t do it like Zami did. He put it on to Automatic Pilot and it drove itself. Beautiful’s car was in front and I could see Nan and Grandad’s heads like they were little children. I knew Nan would be talking in the posh voice she uses in shops and on the telephone. I thought about who would die if we had a crash. Beautiful and Dad could have a sign and suddenly smash their cars into each other but duck down at the last moment so they didn’t go through the windscreen. They would live happily ever after.
We did a walk at a place where there were colourful birds and monkeys so tame you could touch them, even though Nan said not to. It wasn’t a proper safari, though, it was more like a zoo. The monkeys were scratching in the dust and making patterns. Beautiful said they were looking for insects to eat but it seemed like they were trying to draw. One of them drew a line that looked like a path going up a mountain. It looked like he was doing a drawing of where he lived. Beautiful was pretending to be a safari guide even though she works in an office. She kept getting me and Robin to stand with Dad and have our photo taken. Grandad was sweating. Dad asked if he was alright and Nan said did he want to stop and have a sit-down but Grandad said he was fine and would everyone stop treating him like he was ninety-nine instead of sixty-nine.
We went to have a look at where Beautiful works. The people in her office shook our hands. Her name was on the desk and a sword was on the wall. She let Robin hold the sword. It was a Zulu sword even though Beautiful isn’t a Zulu. She’s from another tribe. Beautiful’s tribe are famous for their dancing. She said tourists like Zulu swords and Nan said They like dancing too – one day you must show us your dancing. Robin asked if the sword had killed anyone but Beautiful said it was just for ceremony. She should have told him it killed someone, it would have made him like her. Grandad was sucking up by asking all about history and Beautiful was just talking to him all the time, no one else. Whenever Nan said anything she was talking in her posh voice and Dad was smiling the whole time and pretending we were a normal family. Me and Robin were the only normal ones.
We went to a big hotel with a café in the garden. Dad was totally bum-licking Nan because he knows she loves that kind of thing and he was trying to get her to like Africa. Nan said the tea was delicious and the cakes were delicious. Everything was delicious. Dad and Grandad talked about politics. Me and Robin just sat there being bored. Robin wasn’t allowed to wear his headphones. The hotel was famous in the olden days for apartheid and when I didn’t want anything to eat or drink Dad said was I doing it as an anti-apartheid protest and Robin got all annoyed. She’s not being political, he said, but Dad kept saying I was on a protest. I had a fizzy kind of headache that Nan said was my hormones but Dad said it was because I hadn’t eaten anything. Then him and Nan had an argument about malaria. Dad told Nan she had given us the wrong medicine and I said would he prefer me to go mad or die from malaria. Robin got angry. He called me a drama queen and said he was sick of all of us and stormed off through all the tables in the garden with all the people watching so in the end Dad didn’t get to show off and Beautiful knew for sure we weren’t a normal happy family.
When we got back, Zami was outside the gate talking to Lindisizwe and another man who was so skinny he looked like a drawing of a stick man and who was wearing a woolly hat even though it was sunny. We ate stew that Silumko made and Nan asked Beautiful to show us her dancing. Beautiful said she didn’t have the proper skirt and she only dances at weddings. Grandad said he would like to see her traditional dancing and because he said it she couldn’t say no. Dad said he would be her drummer. It was embarrassing. Dad was drumming on the table with his hands and Nan was clapping, but totally in the wrong rhythm. Beautiful was standing on the grass and stamping her feet a little bit and turning around in a circle. It wasn’t actual dancing.
Afterwards, Beautiful walked around the garden with Grandad showing him all the plants and telling him about them, like it was her garden not Dad’s. Grandad’s head only reached up to her shoulder. She called him brother instead of his name and when I said to Dad he’s not her brother why’s she calling Grandad brother he told me the word she was saying was bava which means father. He’s not her father either, I said, and Dad started going on about African customs and boring stuff like we learn at school. I yawned on purpose.
I used to yawn when I was doing my homework. You used to tell me off but I couldn’t help it. Even though homework is boring I wouldn’t mind doing it if you were sitting next to me like you used to.
I went to find Zami. The crickets were loud and the moon was lighting up the sky. I had my torch and my alarm. I stood on tiptoe to look through the window of his shed and I could see him reading. His house was all concrete. The floor was bare concrete and the walls were too. There were no pillows on the bed and his chair was two blue crates on top of one another.
When I knocked on his window and he saw it was me, he marked the page like Nan does, by folding over its corner in a triangle. The book was one of Robin’s animal guides. I said Is this what you do at night and he said Read and write, yes, it is important. He is making a whole book the same as Robin’s but in his own writing because books are expensive. I said You can have my DS if you want, I don’t play it much any more but he didn’t say thank you even though he is so polite and even though that was kind of me and a DS is more expensive than a book.
I told him I wanted to go and see the Young Lady lioness and he said it was best to see the animals at night when they are hunting. It’s night now, I said. You could take me. He said I would have to ask your father. I told him about Beautiful’s dance and about her pretending to be a safari guide but he didn’t say anything.
A moth kept batting itself against the lightbulb. His torch was on the desk. I shone it right in his eyes. Neither of us knew Morse code so we made up our own. One flash for yes, two flashes for no. If you like the idea, shine it once, I said. Zami picked up the torch and shone it on the wall. Then he clicked it off again.
Jack started barking and we heard Dad telling him off. He was coming to find me. I could tell he was angry because of the way he said my name. He told me off for not having long sleeves on when it was mosquito time. You wouldn’t even care if I caught malaria, I said and he said Don’t be silly, it’s time for bed. Then he told Zami there was a hole in the fence to mend the next day. He put his hand on the back of my neck and steered me out of the door. On the way back to the house he shouted at Jack for barking. I went to bed without saying goodnight to anyone apart from Zami, who I said it to by shining my torch at his window.
In South Africa people go to the beach on Christmas Day and have a barbecue. None of us wanted to go to the beach because it was too hot so Dad said we could stay at the house instead. We opened our presents from under the tree and Nan and Grandad brought presents from England. Mine was a black and white skirt with polka dots on and a letter from Beth that made me homesick.
No one was playing the drawing game because they were too busy having Christmas. I waited ages for Picasso to guess my crossword puzzle and it
came with another message. It said Well done and I knew that was your way of saying Happy Christmas. It wasn’t a happy day though.
I wore my new polka-dot skirt with my new ballet pumps that were all nice and skiddy on the tiled floor. Robin asked me why I was dressed all fancypants and when I told him to shut up he said Alright, no need to get arsey. Nan said Language, Robin, but Dad didn’t tell him off. He just said to ignore Robin because he doesn’t know anything about fashion. Nan said my skirt looked nice but when I looked down at my new shoes the black leather made my feet look really pale and big. They looked like two shiny black cars sitting next to one another at the traffic lights. The sun was all glary and the smell of the barbecue coming in through the windows was making me feel sick. I wasn’t feeling like me and it wasn’t feeling like Christmas.
You used to wear your smartest clothes on Christmas Day and so did Nan but because it was African Christmas she was wearing shorts. You could see all the veins in her legs. Blue for blood with no oxygen in it.
I thought the barbecue was going to be sausages but it was a whole baby pig with a metal spike through its body that turned it around and around over the charcoal until it was cooked. Its eyes were closed and you could see its eyelashes, all crispy and burnt. It had little hairs on its tail like Tony. I didn’t want Tony to see it. If he came round to where we were sitting I would shoo him away. Luckily he didn’t come. I think he stayed away because he could smell it.
No one ate much, not even Robin. Nan said No one likes eating a big meal when it’s hot, not even if it’s Christmas Day. She said it in her polite voice mixed with her gentle voice that she normally uses for saying hello to Minnie over the fence.
Grandad said the heat was too much for him and he was going to have a lie-down. When he was gone Dad said I made a mistake, didn’t I, we should be having roast turkey in England like normal. Robin said No, it’s good to try different things, which is what Nan and Dad always say to him.
Nan started watching one of the old films Dad gave her for Christmas. I think she was doing it out of kindness because his cooking was a failure and Christmas was a failure. Dad went in his room and shut the door but I listened outside and I could hear him talking on the phone. I think it was to Beautiful. He was telling her how nobody ate the barbecue.
I spied on Grandad when he was asleep in the little round cottage. He was lying in a star shape on the bed with his mouth open. I did a cough but he didn’t wake up so I made another noise with my foot but he still didn’t wake up. When I got nearer I could smell his smell of medicine and of old cheese. I could smell the thatched roof too. His things were on the table next to his bed – his wallet and heart pills and malaria pills. I picked up the malaria pills and shook them. He did a great big sigh that made me jump but he didn’t open his eyes. The name on the bottle was Douglas Arthur Forrester. In his wallet there was a photo of you. It didn’t look like you, though, or maybe I forgot what you looked like. On Nan’s side there was a book with a lady on the cover. She looked mysterious because her hat was covering her eyes. Nan’s make-up bag was there. She’s only got old make-up but her lipstick is okay. I put some on and I sneakily put some on Grandad but not on his lips. On his cheek. A dot, like on a doll’s cheek. He did a big snore. There was a glass of water with bubbles in it where the water was old. Mosquitoes like old water so you shouldn’t leave it standing around like that. I poured a little bit on Grandad’s bed near his feet. Then I poured a bit on his knees. Then I dipped my fingers in and sprinkled the water so it was like rain coming down on his face. That woke him up. He was a bit shocked. He sat up in bed really quickly and said What the devil – ? When he found out it was only me he panted like he had just been running and said I was lucky he didn’t have a heart attack. He asked what I thought of this place and I said I don’t know, what do you think of it? He said he didn’t think much of what he’d seen so far. I said You’re going to like the football match tonight though because we were going to watch the orphans play. I told him there was going to be a sacrifice and I said What do you prefer, England or Africa and he said England, much, even though your Dad’s lawn puts mine to shame.
Dad’s present to Zami was a Manchester City football shirt that he got Grandad to bring over from England. I couldn’t find the water container to make Tonyhog a mudbath so I knocked on his door to ask him where it was. When I said Happy Christmas Zami said Happy Christmas To You. A bit like people normally say Happy Birthday To You. What’s it like when both of your parents are dead, I said, and he said Not good and he looked at me and I looked at him for a long time with nobody saying anything. Tony needs water, I said, and Zami came with me. We had to pour loads and loads because as soon as we poured any the earth drank it all up and it disappeared – you would never know it had been there. After his bath Tony lay down in the shade all stretched out on his tummy with his back legs out behind like he was a human. I wondered if he missed his bushpig friends but Zami said once a pack of wild bushpigs came near the edge of the garden and Tonyhog ran away.
When it was cooler in the day it was time for the football match. We drove there in the car and the Jeep. Silumko drove the Jeep with me and Robin and Zami in it. We waved at people and shouted Happy Christmas.
It was a proper football ground with seats for the audience to sit in but instead of grass for the pitch it was just bare ground. All the players were wearing red T-shirts with Play For Hope written on the front and Taylored Travel on the back. Beautiful was there. She was wearing a red T-shirt too. When Dad kissed her she said What do you smell of and he laughed when he told her it was my Christmas present.
I wasn’t looking forward to the sacrifice. Dad said I didn’t have to look if I didn’t want to. Robin said he was going to look. Nan said the idea that killing a cow or a chicken could bring good luck was a load of rubbish. Dad said Please don’t talk about Silumko’s beliefs in that way, Valerie.
Zami and the other players did a march around the pitch and Dad did a speech through a loudspeaker. Silumko was standing next to him and another man was carrying a live chicken under his arm like a handbag. I didn’t even see the knife. One minute he was cuddling the chicken and the next minute he was tipping it upside down so its blood could pour out like a jug. He poured it out all around the penalty spot. I couldn’t believe I had seen something die right in front of me. I saw that chicken alive and then I saw it dead and the world carried on apart from that one chicken in it. I was sitting down but I thought I would fall over. Nan said I was white like a sheet is white and Grandad made me put my head between my knees but then the football match started and everyone was jumping up and down. Nan said Come with me, Indy, you’ll feel better after a little walk.
We followed the line of the football pitch all around its edge and I asked if that was a faint I did when the chicken got its head cut off. Nan said she reckoned it nearly was. I asked if she ever fainted before and she said Never. I could see the others watching the football match in their red T-shirts while me and Nan were separate. She told me about different customs in Africa and all over the world where a man can get his hands chopped off if he steals something and a woman can get acid thrown in her face for driving a car. When Nan talks about different people’s customs it’s more interesting than it is at school. Her voice goes all quiet and crackly and her body gets close. It was so close my feet were going off the line of the football pitch and into the game. I had to keep looking at the line to make sure we didn’t go over. Nan said there are some places in Africa where people bury real live babies under their new house for good luck. Whose babies are they, I asked, but she didn’t know. Anyone who doesn’t want them, she said, or who believes in the sacrifice. It’s a kind of blessing they believe in. And you thought a chicken was bad enough, she said – that’s not the half of it. I was feeling a bit sick and I didn’t want to be separate so I made Nan go back. We had walked around the whole football pitch three times and Dad said my face had some colour in it. Robin and Grandad were calling ou
t to the players like they do when they’re watching football at home and shouting at the television. It was as if they had forgotten we were in Africa. Robin had Grandad, Dad had Beautiful, and all I had was Nan walking around the edge of the football pitch telling me about dead babies. That was all I had and I didn’t want it. It was Christmas Day but I was glad it didn’t feel like Christmas because without you nothing is the same. Without you everything is different.
IT WAS A QUIET afternoon. Karen and Indigo were brushing dolls’ hair.
‘What are we going to do today?’ Indigo asked.
‘You said you wanted to do dollies, no?’ ‘Do dollies’ was a phrase of Indigo’s from when she was young. She was beyond playing with dolls now, Karen suspected, but with the house to themselves ‘doing dollies’ was what they were doing.
‘We could go out if you like,’ she suggested.
‘Where to?’
‘The swings?’
The girl didn’t reply and Karen softened with relief. The prospect of getting both of them dressed and leaving the house was exhausting. She pulled a hairbrush through a doll’s nylon fibre hair. Sometimes she felt as plastic as the creature in her hands.
‘Where’s Robin?’ Indigo asked.
‘He’s at football, isn’t he?’
‘Where’s Dad?’
‘At work.’
She watched her daughter wrestle a tiny jacket off slender plastic arms. Asking after her brother indicated her unease, which caused a heaviness to press on Karen’s chest, as if a great weight rested there. At least the weight was inside now, instead of outside and all around, threatening to invade her and overtake her. Inside, she could accommodate it. She felt a familiar sense of shame – shame that she found normal existence so hard. Ian said everyone found it hard but she didn’t believe him. If it was true, why did people choose to live like this? The most trivial elements of existence seemed to require stamina she didn’t possess. This was what made her ashamed. She wouldn’t live this way given a choice, she often thought to herself, and yet she had the choice. They talked about living in a cave in Spain or a village in Africa but it was only talk. To make it more than a conversation would require strength she couldn’t muster. Once more she was confronted with her own lethargy.
Alarm Girl Page 8
