Being Celeste

by Tshetsana Senau

  “A minute, I have to make a call, I’ll wait for you outside.”

  Was that him replying? Number 27, it was him. What a lovely voice he has. So deep and pronounced and frothy and rugged! Oh I just want to live in it forever and ever. I wonder how he looks when he’s talking. I missed it, looking for a damned coat. Maybe he has dimples or something. I missed his facial expression when he plays the impatient mate who has to make a phone call. I missed everything. Argh! I hate coats...but that’s stupid. I grabbed the order and turned to walk over and hand it to Kate to ring it up. I saw with the corner of my eye again, number 13 smiling at me. He must have been one kind soul, wondering why I was ignoring him. But I wasn’t ignoring him. All this beauty was making me panic. I gave Kate the coat and of course, I should have known, she was having the same ordeal as me. Except she remembered how to talk, unlike me, disabled in that department! She was all flustered looking and had on a weird smile, almost like it was forced to hide the panic. This is not good. We can’t both panic at the same time, who’s going to run the shop then? Number 13 was just as tall as number 27, except his body was slim. He had followed me to the till point. I almost ran into him as I turned to run back to my table and pretend to be organising clothes until he left.

  “Thank you,” I heard him say to me.

  I just soared over to my table, I didn’t even flinch.

  “Is she okay?” I heard him say again.

  Shit!

  “Sh-she’s fine!” Kate replied with a squeaky voice. It had gone from sweet to squeaky. “She just eh, lost her voice.”

  I was looking over at them.

  He turned to face me and said, “Oh, sorry about your voice. Is it a cold?”

  I don’t know how it happened, but I managed to nod and force a smile on my face at the same time. My eyes wandered back to my table of clothes but then I saw number 27 quickly enter the shop again. He walked over to number 13. Someone knock me out right now, for I cannot take this agony anymore! I couldn’t feel my legs. I was in love, mesmerized.

  “Hey, I’m done,” said number 13.

  “Sure,” replied number 27.

  After number 13 said his thank yous to Kate, they left. I felt the breeze of their motion brush across my face, number 27’s especially because he was on my side, and I breathed it in. How refreshing. We waited until they were gone far enough and Kate and I just went crazy.

  “OMG! My gosh, they are so handsome!” said Kate. She was jumping up and down, with trinkets of tears in the corner of her eyes.

  I was jumping too. It’s a miracle that my voice came back. After a while though I stopped and said, “Gorgeous? But you gave number 27 a four earlier.”

  “I know, and I take that back.”

  We both laughed like crazy. The laugh had incorporated relief, excitement, and sheer gratitude for being graced with attractive first customers.

  “Number 27 did seem a bit like an arrogant arse, but he is hot, you’re right,” continued Kate. “I couldn’t contain myself all that time they were in here, did you see me, Celeste? I was about to explode. I wanted to freeze time and walk over to you and point out that there were two hot guys in the shop, in case you hadn’t noticed. But then you came over to me and you looked all frozen up.” She paused and laughed hysterically, a little too hysterical, I think. Although Kate had handled the present situation better than I, by not losing her ability to talk, I don’t think she was handling the aftermath well. I thought she was about to bounce off the walls with glee. “You couldn’t say anything Celeste. The poor guy was so nice and well mannered and you just ignored him. That was hilarious. If only there were security cameras in the shop so that you could see yourself,” said Kate. She then went on another elevated hysterical laugh, it had some cackling to it, but not in a malicious way. Her mouth was so wide open, I thought she was going to swallow me and everything in the shop. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Ah, Kate! one of those people who laugh and cry at the same time.

  Oh, but don’t listen to me. I was in there laughing with her. It was funny. I’d been so stupid and immature. I mean they were just people, soccer players even, they were normal. What’s the freezing up for? It was funny. I also found myself, mouth wide open, releasing my ridiculous laugh for all to here. I wonder what the neighbouring shops were thinking in the complex. It was rather quiet in the mornings. They were probably thinking that we had captured a couple of wild parrots or crows and they were screeching out, demanding we let them go. But we didn’t care. This one would go in the history books.

  “Oh but did you see their uniforms? They belong to the university soccer team. They must come all the way from the city. I wonder where they’re going to play,” said Kate, wiping the tears from her face. “They go to the university. Let’s facebook them, I’ll get my phone.” Kate rushed to behind the counter and started pressing at the dials on her phone to access the internet.

  “But we don’t know their names,” I said, the excitement dying down from my body. “How are you going to find them?”

  “Easy, I’ll just search for the university soccer team page and I’m pretty sure they are members of the page,” she replied, feeling rather proud to be familiar with technology. “There, the soccer page! Come see, come see!”

  I hurried over and we both starred at the screen as if our lives depended on it. Man! Kate could be a spy or something. It’s scary the way she’s cool about searching for people we hardly know on facebook. But I’m not complaining, work your magic Kate.

  “There they are,” she said. We were looking at a picture of the whole soccer team. “Number 27 is called Taboka.” She paused, waiting for my reaction. I love it! “Number 13 is called Thabang. Hmm! The two Ts.” Kate handed me the phone and said, “My gift to you Celeste.”

  I was in another land where I was already planning my wedding and changing my surname. When she gave me her phone, I immediately went to number 27, Taboka’s facebook page. “What do you mean my gift, don’t you want to have a go?” I finally said, noticing how selfish I may be being, hogging the phone.

  Kate cringed. “Honestly, they are not my type. They may be good looking, but not enough for me to cyber stalk them.”

  I really didn’t hear what she said. While she was talking I was looking at the many photos of one Taboka on facebook. He didn’t have a bad side. Before then I was browsing through his profile. We like the same music, rock music. And he’s into movies, just like I am...and he plays the guitar...he can write a song about our love. We are perfect for each other, we were meant to meet. It’s fate, all of it. I bookmarked the page, which wasn’t really necessary because when I got home, I was going to see him on the big screen of my computer monitor. I was so excited about the future now. Kate went back to her cash register and started filing papers properly into a blue file, probably inventory. She decided to leave my gift and I alone.

  Chapter 3

  Yes, blue Tuesday for Kate. This time she’s managed to surprise me. I never thought I’d see this much blue in one place in my life...then again, I’ve never been to the ocean side, but a knitted blue dress, really? Where did she get it from? I don’t remember her mentioning a shopping spree. I wonder if she realises I hate her outfits. Gosh, I forgot to look for that newspaper last night. It should be my first priority tonight. It’s no surprise I forgot. I’ve been so caught up with Taboka, ever since yesterday. I practically know everything about him now...well, what’s online I guess. I found out that he’s very much into athletics, and he’s won numerous awards for his soccer skills. He appeared in the newspapers and all. I’m going to get married to a soccer player, a famous one. Boy, I know how to pick them! The last thing I saw last night before I dozed off was him. I couldn’t help it, it’s very hard to take my eyes off him, it’s like I’ve been hypnotized, I’m under his spell.

  “Celeste, please don’t tell me that you’re still thinking about that idiot!” said Kate, coming from behind me.

  I was starring into the parking lot, ho
ping to see the bus drive in like yesterday. I know Monday madness was yesterday, but I don’t need it anymore, I have something specific now that I hope for...wait, did she just call my future husband an idiot? The nerve! I’ll see how she likes it when I don’t make her my maid of honour. I’ll let it slide, as there are no other candidates for the position of maid of honour. Kate’s my one and only. “Did you know that the university soccer team are here for three months? They are attending a soccer boot camp somewhere on the outskirts of town,” I said, a smile gradually piling on my face.

  Kate rolled her eyes. She rolled her eyes at me. First she calls my Taboka an idiot, and then she rolls her eyes at me. I want to point out that this is all her fault. If she hadn’t searched for him online I would have forgotten about my man of mystery. I would have let him lie with all my memories, but in the wonderful ‘to keep’ pile, of course. Who would forget that good looking man? I reached for my phone and checked for any status updates on his profile. Maybe I should send him a friendship request. No. He’d think I was a stalker.

  Kate towered over me to see what I was doing on my phone. “Hmm, why don’t you send him a friendship request?” She chuckled, I sensed idiot in the chuckle. “You know, I don’t think I really like this dude...I mean for you,” she continued. “He’s not your type. I wonder why you’re so smitten.”

  I wanted to take something and whack her with it so that she could see clearly. “Kate, my dear Kate! Clearly there’s something wrong with you,” I replied, with a worried smile on my face.

  “No there isn’t. Look at him Celeste, he’s not boyfriend material. Plus, he looks like a kid. How old is he?”

  “Twenty. I’m just a year older than him.” I hurried over to the jeans rack to tag them because I knew where this conversation was going.

  “I knew it. You can’t date a guy younger than you, it’s all wrong. You’d be like a...cougar. That’s intense. Your first boyfriend and you are a cougar? Shouldn’t you preserve that stage for when you are middle aged and hopeless with love?”

  “Kate, it’s just a year. I’m sure I wouldn’t qualify for being a cougar, it’s ridiculous.”

  “By definition, a cougar is an older woman. You’re older than him.”

  “It doesn’t matter. So you want to tell me that you wouldn’t go out with a guy you really liked, because you found out he was younger than you by a year, or even a few months?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t. It’s wrong.”

  Oh gosh, she’s insane. What’s wrong is her blue outfit!

  “Kate, I love you, but sometimes you are a little crazy,” I finally said.

  “And you are a cougar!” she snickered and walked off to write something behind the counter.

  I think she thought she won. She made a ruling and I had lost. The word cougar doesn’t bother me very much, but I have no idea how to respond to Kate. How do I tell her off and make her see what I see? It shouldn’t matter, I will fight for our love, mine and Taboka’s. We shall make it work. I will be a cougar to the hottest cub in the land, and everyone will swallow their words. It should strike me strange thinking like this. He doesn’t even know who I am. He probably never even saw me yesterday. I have to devise a plan for him to notice me, the next time he comes around. I can’t exactly kidnap him and then dawn on him the news of our marriage on the day of our wedding, now can I? That’s going to take some work though. It deserves a Saturday evening at Kate’s. Hopefully she stops calling him an idiot. Until then, something or someone, help me to stop peering into the parking area, hoping for a bus to come along. Even as far as I’m standing, at the back of the store, tagging jeans on sale, I can’t help but look forward every thirty seconds. This sucks. Oh wait, a customer...no, it’s just my dad. Oh, look at that, him and Kate’s thinking may have been in the same frequency today. He’s wearing blue jeans and he has zipped his blue jacket all the way up. I wonder what he’s cooking in there, because I think it’s done. Oh, it’s embarrassing. Zipping his jacket has outlined that belly of his that he so adores.

  “Afternoon ladies,” he said, feeling rather chummy.

  “Mr Mokone, good afternoon to you too,” replied Kate. She was rather chummy as well.

  I couldn’t be bothered with the happy mood, because I was beyond stressed with my imaginary love life.

  “I just came to see how you ladies were doing, and check on the shop,” he said, looking around while standing in the same position. My father was more of a behind the scenes kind of man. I mean, ignoring his enormous height, I think he’s like 1.9 metres tall, and his massive self (he’s the reason why I’m overweight. Because he wanted a mate in that department, I’m pretty sure he fed me all kinds of junk when I was a baby, so that I could balloon like him.). But he never really paid much attention to anything except his sleep and feeding. Mum must have put him up to this, coming to check on the shop. She’s been gone for two days now, gone to the city to check on my older sister, Bontle. They are both retired, my parents. My mother spends her days swamped in church activities, while he spends his days thinking about his next trip to the cattle post.

  “So how’s everything?” he asked, still standing on the same spot.

  “Fine,” replied Kate, writing something down behind the till point. She’s always writing, I wonder what.

  “It’s been a slow day,” I said. “That’s what happens in the middle of the month, people are broke.”

  He smiled. I think he was just proud that I was here, in the family business, talking about slow days and what not. “Oh, your mother asked me to tell you that she ordered more leather coats over the phone this morning. They should be here tomorrow.”

  Great, more coats, more tagging.

  “I have to leave for the cattle post in an hour. So you’ll be home alone tonight.”

  I don’t know why, but the term home alone just gives me a rush of adrenaline in my body. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the independence, hidden in it...or peace and quiet. I start feeling like I’m all that. “That’s okay dad, Kate will come and sleep over, keep me company,” I said. Although it would be great being home alone, I can’t actually do it. Besides, Kate doesn’t mind. I looked over to where she was, still scribbling and pressing the calculator. Was she pretending to be busy to give my father and me space to talk? I don’t know. What is she adding?

  “That’s good, good!” he folded his arms over his belly. “I left the meat out of the freezer, so you girls have fun tonight. Oh, here.” He came over and handed me twenty Pula. “Buy yourself snacks or something. Mum should be back tomorrow.” Then he left.

  That’s my father, the behind the scenes man. If it were my mother, she’d still be in the shop, throwing directions and comments left and right...and she wouldn’t have given me money for snacks. One day I should offer to go to the cattle post with my father. I can’t help but shake the feeling that he is lonely, which is why he is so behind the scenes all the time. He doesn’t have a son to go to the cattle post with. It’s just me and my older sister. She’s been living in the city for two years now, ever since she graduated from law school. She is a big shot lawyer now. It’s just me at home with the folks. I’m sure dad would appreciate me offering my time out of my busy schedule and love life to accompany him to his beloved home away from home. I can only imagine the trip there. Knowing him, he would buy all the snacks in the shop so that we would be well set for the trip. That’s why I like travelling with him, because we are always sorted in the food department.

  “Celeste!” called Kate.

  Imagining over!

  “Yes, what is it, my dear Kate?” I replied, leaving my thoughts behind.

  “The bus, it’s here!”

  The bus, it’s here! Pick me up and throw me in the air, the bus is here! My gosh, what am I wearing, is it good enough? The bus is here...well hang on, why is Kate so excited? After calling me a cougar, why is she excited?

  “You should go over to the supermarket right now,” she ordered.

  I sto
pped my excitement. “But I thought you said I was a cougar.”

  She giggled. “You are, but you have to start somewhere.” She laughed. “Go on, go on then. Look, look, they are climbing out. And they don’t have their uniform on this time.”

  I should go, I thought, to the supermarket. I should follow them. I turned and brushed a look at my image in the huge mirror on the wall, to see if everything was in order. That was it then, I couldn’t go. I couldn’t let Taboka see me. I was a mess and half. Then like clockwork, cue in the insecurity. I was wearing my work clothes: a pair of blue jeans, a striped button up shirt and a black blazer. At that moment I thought I looked like a forty-something mother of two, who had let herself go. I felt fat and pathetic, a wholesome combination, my fat had made me unattractive. An idiot loser like me would never grab the attention of a star soccer player like Taboka. Who was I kidding, I’m not going over to the supermarket, my confidence has been shot down by the terrible blob of fat I am. Look at my arms, just about to burst the seams of my blazer, and my round cheeks. You know, I used to have dimples, but I’ll bet they are covered up by the fat in my cheeks. I think if one of my thighs were to be cut in half, they would still be fat. Who put this mirror here anyway?...oh, it was me, for the customers. I don’t get it though, a while ago I felt amazing thinking about the family and my marriage. But my head was in the clouds I guess; reality always shows me that I have no confidence whatsoever. I’m not going, never mind. I won’t let my future husband see me like this.

  “That’s okay Kate, I’ll watch from here,” I finally said.

  Kate looked at me like I was from another planet. After a while she sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll go. Besides, I feel like having some juice, so I’ll spy for you.”

  I wonder if she sensed the usual lack of confidence in my voice. I smiled. Kate, she is such a darling, and my best friend. Go get them, tiger! I thought. “Oh, okay. Get me some juice too then,” I said. I trusted she would come with all the lo-down, relevant I might add. Kate was the world’s number one boy stalker. I learned all these tricks from her, you know. I watched her literally hop out of the boutique, like a messenger going to get some good gossip. I was in between, feeling bad about the person I was, on the outside, but excited because of what Kate was doing. It was very thrilling actually. But now I guess you know why I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m an insecure fat girl, without direction. Who would want to date me, right? However, I cherish the day, once it comes, when I get to eat up my words like the lunch I had today. Chew them up and spit them out because they are terrible words, and that was a terrible lunch. I can’t wait to have a boyfriend, you know, it makes my heart beat a whole lot faster. It makes it pound even louder when I think about it, louder and more passionate than the beat of a Setswana drum, playing along to traditional dance. Yes, that’s it. I feel impatience rushing along with the blood in my veins, when I think about it. I just don’t know how I’m going to get to that place. It’s like there’s a huge barrier just pinning me down, but I can see the place, almost touch it even, I just can’t get across. My friend from secondary school, Malebogo, called me the other day; she’s in university, to give me an update on her life. She’s on two years with her man, and they met when she was in first year. I’ve seen pictures of him too online. He’s super fit and they look so cute together. I don’t think she calls to gloat, she would never do that, but it’s all she talks about, her beloved boyfriend. Then she never fails to ask about my non-existent boyfriend. She jokes about it all the time. I’m worried, and I wonder how Kate feels about all of this. I won’t bother her though, as she’s gone through an accident, she’s one level higher than I am. I shouldn’t bother her with problems from those below or on level one. But she knows how I feel. I just don’t like talking about it. How did it get so bad, how did I let myself get this old?