Death by His Grace

by Kwei Quartey

  She looked up at the sound of knocking. When she opened the door, Christine Dawson was standing on the other side. The instant Katherine saw her cousin, she burst into tears and collapsed into her arms.

  On the sofa, the two women held hands and Katherine took comfort from Christine.

  “You’ve been through an awful time so far this year,” Christine said, her face full of sympathy. “Both you and Solo.”

  Katherine nodded. She thought Christine was lovely, with her short, unprocessed hair and her dark, soft eyes. She was slim but well-built with marvelous broad shoulders.

  “Is Solo still at work?” Christine asked.

  Katherine hesitated, looking down. “He went to Takoradi this morning for a couple of days.”

  Christine lifted her chin. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she denied.

  “Come on,” Christine said. “Remember I’ve known you forever.”

  Katherine gave a little laugh. “That’s true. Well, I’m scared . . . I’m afraid Solomon will leave me if I don’t get pregnant soon.”

  Christine showed her surprise. “Kate! Why do you think that?”

  “He seemed distant last night and this morning. And this trip to Takoradi—well I don’t remember him telling me about it in advance, although he says he did.”

  “He probably did,” Christine said. “Don’t imagine the worst. We women are always doing that to ourselves.”

  Someone knocked on the door for the second time that evening. Katherine got up to find Maude and Georgina on the doorstep.

  “Mama?” Katherine said. “Good evening.”

  Maude’s hair was perfect without an errant strand in sight. “We want to speak to you,” she said.

  They entered in awkward silence. Not a social visit, Katherine thought. Something was wrong.

  “Oh, hello,” Maude said as she saw Katherine had company.

  “You remember my cousin Christine?” Katherine said.

  “Yes, I do,” Maude said, managing a smile.

  She and Georgina sat down and exchanged a few words of painful, polite small talk with Katherine.

  Christine cleared her throat and sat forward, “I must take my leave.”

  “Oh, so soon?” Katherine said, dismayed. “Please, stay.”

  “We need to discuss family affairs,” Maude said.

  “Oh,” Katherine said. “All right. Then I’ll see you out, Christine.”

  Outside, Katherine whispered, “This is trouble. I can smell it. For them to come to see me while Solo is not here? Not good.”

  Christine squeezed her hand. “Call me later, okay? I wish I could stay to give your moral support, but—”

  “No, Chrissy, it’s okay.”

  They hugged each other, and Christine left. Katherine returned to Maude and Georgina, who were talking in hushed tones. They stopped as Katherine sat down and faced them.

  “We have come to see you about an important matter,” Maude said.

  Katherine swallowed. “Yes?”

  “Solomon is away,” Maude continued, “so Georgina and I have chosen this occasion to speak to you. He did not ask us to come. We are here independently.”

  Katherine frowned. “Okay, but what is this all about?”

  “The marriage between you and him is not working,” Maude said.

  “Not working?” Katherine said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Solomon wants a baby,” Georgina said. “And so do we—his family.”

  “Why are you thwarting Solo’s efforts to impregnate you?” Maude demanded.

  Katherine pulled back. “Me? How could I be doing that?”

  Maude leaned forward. “You have to tell us. Has someone cursed you to be barren? Is that what has happened to you?”

  Katherine was rigid. “This is nonsense.”

  Georgina got to her feet and leaned over Katherine with a finger in her face. “What are you doing to my brother, you witch?”

  “I’m a witch?” Katherine pointed to herself. “Me?”

  “Do you see me talking to someone else? Of course, you!”

  Katherine jumped up and shoved Georgina away. She staggered back, recovered, and advanced on her sister-in-law for a full-blown fight.

  Maude stepped between the two younger women. “No!” she shouted. “Stop! Sit down, both of you.”

  They did so, glaring at each other. Maude returned to her chair. “Katherine,” she said, “we know you have been going to a lot of specialists. You’ve had all kinds of procedures and tests for your infertility, but nothing is working. Have you consulted a traditional healer or fetish priest?”

  “No, and I’m not going to,” Katherine said. “I don’t believe in that.”

  “But you’ve exhausted all the modern medicine options,” Maude said, gesturing in frustration. “What harm could come from trying a traditional healer?”

  Katherine shook her head. “Solo and I will continue to seek professional medical advice. This other stuff you’re suggesting is a waste of time.”

  “Because you don’t want to bless my brother with a child,” Georgina said with finality. “I knew it.”

  “Shut up,” Katherine snapped. “You hate me, Georgina; that’s all there is to it. Because you and Solo are so close, you’ve always felt I took him away from you.”

  Georgina flapped her hand backward and sat back with her arms folded.

  “Did Solomon ask you to come to tell me this?” Katherine demanded.

  “Didn’t I already say he didn’t?”

  “Then I don’t need to hear any more,” Katherine said, striding to the door. She held it open. “Goodbye to you both.”

  Maude picked up her purse, shaking her head. “Such disrespect. You’re a disgrace.”

  She and her daughter marched out to the Benz waiting outside. Georgina shot one glance backward that seemed to say, “This is not over.”

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Maude and Georgina had left, Katherine tried to call Solomon, but he didn’t pick up. Her heart was racing. She was confused and felt hot around the face and neck.

  She called Christine to tell her what had just occurred.

  “What infuriates me is how they’ve used Solomon’s absence as an opportunity to attack me,” Katherine said.

  “Have you called him about it?”

  “I tried—no answer. I’ll try again as soon as . . . Oh, that’s Solo on the line right now. I’ll call you back.”

  She clicked to Solomon. “Have you spoken to your mother today?” she asked.

  “This morning, yes. Why?”

  Katherine told him what had just transpired.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” he muttered.

  She found his subdued response strange. “But how dare they speak to me like that, Solo?” she said, trying to coax more indignation out of him. “Accusing me of being a witch, or somehow preventing the pregnancy from taking place? Don’t they understand what a difficult time this is for me as well? I mean, I’m beyond insulted. I want an apology from both of them.”

  Solomon cleared his throat. “Well, that might be difficult, but I’ll talk to them.”

  Why was he so cool about this? “Solo—did you know they were coming to see me?”

  “No, of course not! Why would you think that?”

  “Because you don’t sound angry or upset. As though this is nothing.”

  “We already know about the tension between you and my mother.”

  “Tension is one thing; insults are quite another.”

  “Like I said, I will talk to them.”

  “Hurry home. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. I’ll do my best to leave Takoradi early in the day.”

  “I love you,” she said.

  Bu
t he had already ended the call.

  Katherine felt a sudden chill, as though malaria had struck her for an instant. What had Solomon’s flat, monotone voice meant?

  That night, she dreamed about Maude, Georgina, and witches. Katherine heard every creak in the house and kept imagining a prowler outside. But she had no reason to be anxious. The front gate was secure, bolted, and padlocked, and besides, faithful Gabriel was on night duty keeping Katherine and her home safe.

  After work the next day, Katherine went to Kaneshie Market to get food and supplies. By the time she returned home, Accra’s chaotic rush hour traffic had sapped her like a wilting plant. But she perked up in the kitchen as she cleaned the fish she had bought and washed off the garden eggs, okros, onions, and tomatoes in readiness for Solomon’s favorite meal the following evening.

  In the morning, she woke up with the eagerness of a child at Christmastime. Solo was coming home today. She had asked her boss if she could leave work early if she came in at 6:30 A.M., and he had agreed. At around three o’clock, she left for home. Solomon’s flight was scheduled to get in at five, and he would take a taxi home. With any luck, in rush hour, he would get home by seven.

  Katherine put the finishing touches on the okro stew, which smelled delicious. Esi, the house girl, was starting on the banku. At 5:35, Solomon called Katherine to say he had just arrived and would head home shortly.

  Less than an hour later, he called again. Maude was ill, so he would take a detour to check on her at home. Katherine barely swallowed her anger. Solo’s mother was probably doing just fine. All she was doing was diverting her son away from his wife.

  The minutes mounted to an hour, and then two. Katherine called Solomon’s number, but he didn’t pick up. What was going on?

  It was almost ten when his taxi pulled up. Katherine heard the horn blow, and she hurried outside, where Gabriel was opening up the gate.

  “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” Katherine exclaimed as she embraced Solomon.

  “You, too,” he said, laughing. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Gabriel carried his bags into the house. Katherine and Solomon followed holding hands.

  “You must be exhausted,” Katherine said.

  “I am,” he said, kicking off his shoes and undoing his tie. He was about to slump into his favorite chair.

  “No,” Katherine said, pulling him back. “You know you’re going to fall asleep. Come straight to table. I’ve prepared your favorite.”

  “I’m not that hungry,” he said.

  “Come on, you’re always hungry,” she retorted.

  Esi put the meal and a basin of water on the table.

  Katherine released her for the night. “Thank you for staying late.”

  “Yes, madam.” Esi, so petite she was sometimes mistaken for a young girl, curtseyed and left.

  Katherine served Solomon up two balls of banku and plenty of stew to go with it. “I missed you, honey,” she said, beaming at him.

  “I missed you too,” he said. “Share half of the banku with me.”

  “You’re only going to eat half of it?” she asked, surprised. “That’s not like you.”

  “I ate something at Mom’s,” he confessed. “Sorry, I was hungry.”

  “Oh,” Katherine said, disappointed. “Okay. Is she all right?”

  “Her back has been troubling her,” Solomon said, rinsing off his hands in the basin as he prepared to eat the traditional way.

  “So, nothing serious,” she said, sitting down. “Why did you take so long there?”

  “We were talking.” He shrugged. “You know how she is.”

  “Did you talk about what took place the other night when she and Georgina came to see me?”

  “Not so much,” he muttered.

  “What does ‘not so much’ mean?”

  “Kate, please,” Solomon said. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow. I’m just too tired for that right now.”

  “Sorry,” she said, changing the subject. “Did you get everything done in Takoradi?”

  “Just about,” he said.

  A brief silence followed as Solomon began eating. As they chatted, Katherine noticed something peculiar. He seemed to be passing each handful of food past his nose before putting it into his mouth.

  “Honey,” she said. “What’s wrong? Why are you eating like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “As if you’re smelling the food,” she said, with a half-laugh.

  “No, I’m not,” he scoffed.

  He appeared self-conscious, so she stopped staring, looked away, and tried to make some other conversation.

  After a few minutes, he stopped eating. “Wow, I’m full already.”

  He hadn’t cleaned his plate the way he typically did.

  “Don’t you like it?” she asked him.

  “Of course, I do,” he assured her. “It’s delicious. You know your banku is the best.”

  She cleared the table while he went to take a shower before bed. She didn’t want to admit to herself something was wrong, but the feeling hung around like a pesky fly.

  She had hoped that his shower would reinvigorate him, but he was fast asleep even before she got into bed beside him. She had been looking forward to a little cuddling, maybe even intercourse. She had prepared herself for it, and she was fresh and clean. She hadn’t wanted to waste any time before trying for a baby again, but perhaps it was just as well. A tired man meant ineffective sperm.

  She couldn’t stop her mind from straying to the worst possible scenario that Solomon had a Takoradi mistress who had drained him sexually and left him exhausted.

  Katherine’s head told her not to be ridiculous, but her heart said otherwise.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, a surprise awaited Katherine when she returned home from work. Solomon was in the bedroom fast asleep with the AC on full tilt. He rarely beat Katherine home, and his sleeping at this early hour—six-thirty—made her worry that her husband was ill. She thought it best to let him sleep awhile.

  Katherine got dinner ready—simple gari and sardines. She hummed an absent-minded tune, thinking she should check on Solomon soon. As she turned to reach for a dish on the counter, she caught a glimpse of someone standing behind her and jumped out of her skin. She whirled around.

  “Oh, my goodness, Solo!” she gasped, putting her hand on her chest. “You scared me!”

  He was still in his work clothes, but his shirttails were out, and he was barefoot.

  “Solo, what’s wrong?” Katherine whispered.

  “I’m sick,” he said, rubbing his belly. “Pains in my stomach. That’s why I came home early to sleep.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, love. Do you have a fever?” She took two steps to put her hand on his forehead, but he backed away from her as if she had Ebola.

  “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

  She froze. “What?”

  “Are you trying to poison me?” His eyes burned bright and sick. “The food last night. No wonder it tasted strange. You put poison in it.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment. He must be delirious with malarial fever.

  “I understand everything now,” he continued. “The baby—how you’ve been killing it in your womb instead of allowing it to be born.”

  Katherine went rigid. “You’re frightening me, Solo. What’s wrong?”

  He began to back away. “You and your fellow witches. That’s what you all do, isn’t it? Kill people, destroy children.”

  “Stop,” she said. “Please, Solo. Stop saying these things.”

  “I can’t eat your food,” he said, now turning his back on her and walking to the bedroom. “I can’t stay here either. I don’t want to be around you.”

  Katherine followed him. Stunned, she watched him stuffing a suitcase with his cl
othes.

  “Solo, you know I love you,” she said. “Not even love—I adore you. And you know I want a child more than anything. Maybe even more than you do. None of what you’re saying is true.”

  He hesitated as though processing what she had just said, but then he resumed packing. He went to the bathroom for his shaving things. “I have to be alone for a while to think about what I should do,” he said, zipping up the case. “I’ll let you know.”

  He walked past her into the sitting room.

  “Solo!” she cried out as he reached the door. “Please, Solo!” She ran after him. “You mustn’t believe the things people have been saying about me.”

  In the courtyard, Solomon opened the trunk of his car and threw in his bag. Katherine reached for his arm, but he snatched it away and went to open the front gate. He got in his Jaguar and reversed into the street.

  Weeping, Katherine called her mother.

  “Wait for me,” Nana said. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  Katherine hung up and sat shivering with shock until Nana arrived.

  “He’ll come back,” Nana said, wrapping her arms around her daughter and rocking her. “This is just some temporary thing. He’ll come to his senses soon. I’m sure of it.”

  “But it must be his mother who is feeding him all this stuff about witchcraft,” Katherine said. “And you know how much he hangs on her every word. She’ll continue to prejudice his mind against me—I know it.”

  “Everything will be okay,” Nana soothed. “It will all turn out right.”

  That week, Ransford received a call from his sister Gifty, Christine Dawson’s mother. She was distressed about the ominous developments between Katherine and Solomon and his family. The marriage was in danger of unraveling like a flimsy ball of twine.

  “We can’t allow this catastrophe to progress,” Gifty said. “We have to do something and do it fast, or the wounds will deepen.”

  After talking to his sister, Ransford was deep in thought when Nana came into the room.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Gifty,” Ransford said. “She’s worried about Katherine and Solo. She wants us to take action.”

  “But what, exactly?” Nana sat down beside him.