by Carl Hancock
‘No flowers, please.’
‘But we will have a vegetable area, an orchard and I would like a very large English lawn. Can we have jacaranda and a cei-apple hedge like Londiani …?’
‘Don’t forget the date palms, the small coffee plantation, the paddling pool!’
‘Thomas McCall, if you are not careful …’
‘And if you are not careful, Madam, we will be late for our appointment.’
‘You mean there really is a mind doctor …’
‘Would I lie to you? Look over there. I hope you’ve brought sunglasses. Solomon’s been polishing the Harley. Come on.’
* * *
Bertie Briggs was the McCalls’ nearest neighbour. He was waiting for them near the gate to his farmhouse. Ewan was almost three and he was perched in front of his father and reaching out for the handlebars of the Harley. The fair-haired boy’s birthday was not far away, the anniversary of the day when Bertie had gained a son and lost his soul mate on the same bloodstained bed in Nairobi Hospital. Ewan was Bertie’s most precious treasure and his greatest worry.
‘Tom, can I come with you? I know how to hang on. Dad and Solomon have been teaching me.’
‘Next week. I promise you. Today I have to give Rebecca a lesson. Big ladies have to learn how to hang on, too, you know.’
‘But Rebecca is not a big lady. She’s my teacher in Hippo House. She knows everything!’
Bertie slid from the saddle and lifted Ewan off with him.
‘And we have to go over to Londiani to see another big lady who knows everything as well. We’re having tea with Rafaella. Remember? Pizza and chocolate cake. She told me it’s your favourite.’
‘Yes, but Tom could take me on the bike and you could follow us.’
‘Talkative boys don’t get chocolate cake for tea. Tom, Solomon filled her up in town this morning.’
Bertie moved in on Tom and hugged him. ‘Bless you, boy.’
‘That’s a new one, Mister Briggs! Why for?’
A flustered Bertie blinked sharply to hold back a tear. ‘Oh, lots of things. I just saw you again at Ewan’s age. It’s the time of year. You two look after each other out there. Don’t bother to bring back the bike tonight. Solomon will come over in the morning.’
Within minutes Tom was travelling at a sedate speed down South Lake Road in the direction of Hell’s Gate. Clinging close to his back, Rebecca was enjoying her first ride on the Harley. The breeze they created caused her scalp to tingle and played with her long, black hair, making it dance about erratically. Progress was slow and not only because Tom wanted it that way. The workers on the flower farms had finished for the day and on both sides of the road hundreds of them were walking and chatting their way into Naivasha town. There was not a single one of them who did not know the young couple going in the opposite direction. In six months Rebecca had become the most famous woman in the country, an international singing star with the Toni Wajiru band. Tom had miraculously survived two violent attacks on his life. It was not only the local kids who had given him the nicknames of Superman and Lazarus.
So there was a great deal of smiling and waving and calling in their direction. It was Tom’s first outing on the bike since the day, nine months before, when he had taken Lucy, a friend visiting from England, on the same route, with almost fatal consequences to himself. He needed to try to regain his equilibrium after the visit of the Rubai family. It was not only Rebecca who needed to see the mind doctor. Abel Rubai who had supposedly come for some kind of reconciliation and his son, Reuben, had caught him unawares and, without realising it, unleashed the demon. Julius was dead. How much guilt did he bear for this death? Stephen, the pastor father of Rebecca, had almost succeeded in leading him out of this dark forest of his own creation. Rebecca could help him take those last few steps.
On the road to Eburu they would pass through a real forest. At the Kingoni police post they left the tarmac and were onto the wide, dusty trail that would bring them to the north side of the lake. One advantage of the late coming of the short rains was that where there normally would have been deep mud, the track was dry and the many potholes easy to see. Tom made brief stops, just as he had done when Lucy was his passenger.
Each time after the sound of the motor died and the dust had fallen to earth, they sat in silence and just looked around. Rebecca was aware that Tom was troubled, had been since that night when the bullet from Julius’s gun lodged in his thigh. She knew that something had happened, something was said the day before to make things worse for him. The forgiveness talk had failed.
Since he was a boy Tom had never been one to share his problems, but Rebecca knew that there had been angry words exchanged in the meeting that was meant to bring some kind of peace. Nor was she fooled by the careless light-heartedness in his manner on their journey out.
After travelling along forest trails and over rough, undulating tracks, he parked the bike under a tree at the top end of a grass airstrip. It was wider and longer than the home strip on Crescent Island. On this road to Eburu, much further away from the lake water, big animals were rarely seen. Perhaps only the birds had a home here though. On his many visits, he had sometimes shared his refuge with giraffe or gazelle and others of the diminishing numbers of other creatures of the African plains who were passing through. They sat comfortably, arms interlinked with their backs resting against the smooth trunk of a yellow fever tree. They said nothing. It was enough to be part of the vast, dry landscape, with the sun well down in the western sky. Dusk was not far away. In the cool of the late afternoon, every blade of grass, every leaf seemed unwilling to break the stillness. The loudest noise was the sound of their breathing until they caught the sudden rush of air from the wing beat of a dozen white cattle egrets moving purposefully up from the lakeside, flying directly above them on their way home after their day’s work. Tom looked up.
‘I wonder if they’re coming from Loldia or the Lang farm next to Karura Tu. I love those creatures. They are hard workers. They don’t miss a day on the job. I wonder where they live. Perhaps they are in a hurry in case they’ll be late for tea!’
‘Papa likes them, too. He always stops to watch them fly over. He thinks they have a special gift, a reward for being the hardest workers in the Garden of Eden.’
”Becca, you know my grandma is a Catholic.’
‘She used to talk about the beautiful churches in Verona. And you know she would not approve of the “grandma”!’
‘Yes, I know. I like to tease her sometimes. She tried to teach us a bit of Italian when we were kids. Waste of time. She used to call us her figlii moroni, or something like that. Anyway, she goes to confession once a month, an Irish priest in Nakuru. And the happiest boy I knew in Oundle was a left footer, too, Todd Tremlett. Before we went to the pub on Saturday night, he was in the box in Saint Mary’s. A dry-clean for the soul he called it. Those egrets don’t need any confession. No hang-ups.’
‘Lucky egrets. Lucky boy. I must tell Papa. He’ll enjoy the story. But Papa teaches a different way. When we were younger, he read to us from a story by a mzungo who lived a long time ago. Every night before bedtime, we all sat ‘round the table and listened to a chapter from Pastor Bunyan.’
‘Pilgrim’s Progress. Our scripture teacher read it with us at Pembroke. All I can remember are a few words I still don’t understand. Umm, one was “delectable” and a really weird bit, “slough of despond”. We had relatives living in Slough, near London. I couldn’t figure it out.’
‘Despond, despair, Thomas! Papa told us it was a very hurtful thing.’
‘And guilt?’
‘A bad pain!’
‘You make it sound like a sickness. I’ve got a good dose of whatever it is just now. It hangs around like a heavy cold you can’t get rid of.’
‘But, Thomas, isn’t that why we have come to talk to the mind doctor?’ She looked him in the face and arched her eyebrows in a smiling innocence.
He smiled back and pulled her close enough to kiss he
r lightly on the cheek. ”Becca, I’m so looking forward to you wifing me. How can one woman be so beautiful and so clever?’
‘Not so clever. Why am I afraid of this brother of Julius?’
In the silence that followed, Tom watched a line of ants moving in procession up the smooth trunk of the tree. She, in her turn, was watching him closely. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity when she saw the solemn expression melt into bemusement and then into a beaming smile.
‘Thomas, you must share with me.’
‘Stephen Kamau!’
‘You are giving me puzzles again.’
‘It was about a month ago.’ His voice was full of excitement. ‘I was in the office with your father when he was warning one of the young planters for being lazy. The kid, Matthias, was scared, thought for sure he was going to lose his job.
‘Bwana Kamau, my papa will kill me. You know he’s very angry man.’
‘Son, you are good church boy?’
‘Not so good.’
‘Did you ever read this verse? “Go to the ant, thou sluggard. Consider her ways and be wise?”’
‘What’s a sluggard, Bwana?’
Rebecca was laughing. ‘Papa told us that story after he came home from the fields. But, Thomas, what are you talking about?’
‘Don’t you see? Watching the ants just now.’
‘I saw ants. I know they can show us when rain is coming soon. Don’t tell me these are the mind doctors!’
‘They’ve been around millions of years longer than us, just like the bees.’
‘You will tell wonderful stories to our children, just like Papa did for me and the girls, but …’
His enthusiastic flow was halted for a few seconds as he savoured the thought of having half a dozen mirror images running ‘round the house. ‘I was watching the leader and for a moment he sort of paused and looked over.’
‘Thomas, what is happening with you?’ She was pleased to see him enjoying himself.
‘Just then he, is it a he? Well, his eyes suddenly became very bright. At that very moment a name came into my head. Guess!’
‘The children will love this story. Ants, bees and now?’
‘Julius!’
Her jaw dropped and her eyes fluttered in mild shock. ‘Thomas!’
He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
‘Darling, darling, darling, I didn’t mean it to be like this. I can be such a thoughtless prat.’
Words dried up on both sides. They did not attempt to look into each other’s eyes. Gradually her deep sighs eased and she moved her head back until she could see his face. She smiled.
‘Julius, you are right. He is like a hand reaching out of the grave to grasp our hearts. Perhaps why I am afraid of the look on Reuben’s face. I can see his brother’s anger.’
‘Julius was a spoilt, ruthless … I can’t find the right word. He didn’t give a damn about anyone except Julius. And yet if I hadn’t been in the Muthaiga that night, he would still be alive.’
‘And I would be his wife! I should not have led him on, told him untruths, but my heart still tells me that he was ready to kill you. I have talked to Papa about this. He says that the Rubais are a family crazy for revenge. They must have their own way in everything. Mary calls it karma.’
He felt a surge of emotion. He did not hold back.
‘I’m ready to spew him up, pass him out of my guts like a tapeworm!’ Tom punched the air defiantly. ‘Yeah, get shot of him. Get rid of all the sentimental crap!’
One short outburst and Tom felt weary. He closed his eyes and let his head loll back against the tree. He began again in a low, resigned tone.
‘No, I’m not. We’re stuck with him. Can’t undo the past, can we?’
She shook her head in resignation. ‘What can we do, Thomas?’
‘Ah, yeah. Sometimes, ‘Becca, when you’re at the bottom of a deep hole, you can see the sky, the stars better than you can from a mountain top.’
‘Did the mind doctor tell you this?’
‘Now who’s doing the mocking. Only kidding! Todd Tremlett.’
‘The Catholic boy in England? I wish I knew him.’
‘We’ll invite him to the wedding. Grandma would love him.’
‘We can live with this. We can share it.’
‘It could teach us to know how blest we are.’
‘I think we’ve met the mind doctor. I …’
Tom was interrupted by a familiar sound. A light aircraft was approaching their end of the airstrip. There were two, both bigger than the McCall Cessna. As the red planes sped past, they could see passengers who were peering out, trying to get their bearings.
‘Visitors. The Elliots have four luxury bungalows down by the lake. Expensive. These people are in for a treat. They are about to enter paradise, or as near to it as you could expect on this earth.’
‘Perhaps it’s the Rubais coming to make an offer.’ Rebecca closed her eyes and shook her head vigorously in annoyance with herself. ‘Sorry, Thomas, for being a thoughtless, what’s that word you like, prat!’
Tom stared gloomily down at the ground for a few seconds. Next moment he had her neck locked in his right arm as he searched for her mouth. Two, three long kisses later, he was up and drawing Rebecca to her feet. ‘Let’s just check. Whoever they are, they’ve got plenty of dosh, schoolboy talk for cash.’
‘Or dough, not for making bread. You have told me this.’
‘Learning to speak English proper.’
‘You mean “properly”.’
‘Only testing. Dong! Ten out of ten!’
The passengers were being helped down onto the ground at the other end of the strip. In the hazy air of late afternoon, Tom and Rebecca peered theatrically along the hundred metres separating them from busy activity. She was the first to reach a conclusion.
‘No, I cannot see any pregnant ladies down there.’
‘Agreed.’ His tone changed from businesslike to wistful. ‘I don’t think any Rubais will be spending tonight on this lakeside. I told you that the air up here is very special. It can do miracles. Rebecca, sweetheart, where has all the guilt gone?’
‘Thomas, I cannot see a pregnant lady down there, but Sally has been in my mind such a lot today. I have this wonderful warm feeling in me for her. I owe her so much.’
Two minibuses drove up to the red planes. All engines were switched off down there. Excited laughter drifted up to them. They could see people moving into the buses and being driven off. Within minutes they were alone again, listening to the sound of their own breathing.
‘Thomas, I am ready.’ She released her arm and turned him to face her.
‘What do you mean?’
He could feel her body being pressed hard against him.
‘Perhaps there is a better mind doctor here.’
He understood. ‘Rebecca, what are you doing to me?’
‘I know what I have said before but …’
‘In a few weeks. You are the strong one. Feel my forehead. It’s red hot. I’m confused. I mean …’
‘You are afraid?’ She arched her back and teased him with a smile.
‘Rebecca, I …’
‘I want you to lie with me. Remember those words so long ago? God will bless us, for sure.’
‘But …’
Her reply was to begin unbuttoning her blouse.
‘Bloody hell, and I said paradise was down the road …’
Afterwards, they continued to hold each other close on the soft grass. Evening had come and with it the first chill air of the night. The plains around them that had been green and brown were now shadowy with the onset of night. So, when they sat up, there was a great pool of light out on the lake. The dying sun above the jagged darkness of the western shore cast out a bar of molten gold that reached to the edge of the water not far below where they sat.
‘Thomas, we are in the Garden of Eden. Our people believe that.’
‘And so do I. If you told me at this
moment that we were the only human beings on the planet, I’d believe you.’
‘So, you are Bwana Adam and I am Memsahib Eve.’
‘The Eve part I can understand. God, you’re beautiful.’
‘And perhaps we have started to make a little one.’
‘Let’s try again, just to make sure!’
Rebecca crossed her arms and shivered briefly. ‘The dew is coming. Papa says it is God’s gift to the night animals.’
‘I like the freshness of it, but we can’t risk you catching a cold. You can shelter behind me on the bike. Put my shirt on over your blouse.’
‘So you can catch the cold instead.’
Out on North Road the shelter of the trees and the constant bouncing about on the rough surface kept the shivers at bay. Tom helped out by singing all the way down to the main road. Rebecca grasped his cool, hard body and snuggled under his shoulders. She was glad that he could not see her face. He might have misunderstood what he saw there. They had just shared the most unforgettable experience of their young lives and the bond they shared had never been stronger. But the tightly drawn lips and the sadness in the eyes might have told him that Rebecca was being weighed down by a new guilt. She had allowed herself to be deceived by delicious lust. She had given in to the passion of the moment and was already suffering the pain of regret.
The truth was very different. A deeply felt emotion was troubling her. It was fear. All the comforting words they had exchanged in that beautiful, solitary place, the ecstacy of those minutes when they had melted together under the darkening sky had not managed to reach and wash away the powerful sense of foreboding that had been rooted in her for months like a curse. Twice the Rubais had come close to killing Tom. Next time they would succeed and that time would be soon. This was the pain and she could not share it.
She prayed long and often, but the consolation was short-lived. Now they had become part of each other. They had become man and wife before God.
Chapter Nine
euben Rubai was deeply affected by the family visit to the flower farm, disturbed by the new thoughts, the unexpectedly different personal horizons that were invading his consciousness. He would need time to get a handle on what was happening to him.
