The Bride Price: An African Romance (Chitundu Chronicles) Page 4

  “The bed is for you, Myrna. I will sleep on the mat. It is what I am used to,” he said. Myrna climbed onto the bed with its mattress filled with soft grasses, then she pulled the red wool blanket over her, smoothing out the quilt. After she blew out the candle, she found she was wide awake. After a few minutes, she asked, “Festal, are you asleep?”

  “No.”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “I am.”

  “Goodnight, then.”

  “Goodnight.”

  The following morning, Festal was gone. Myrna woke to the hee-hawing sound of love-sick donkeys braying in the far pasture below. She pulled her legs from the warm covers. The room was so cold she saw her breath. She removed her nightgown, arranged a chitenge around her hips, and wrapped up in her sweater. Then she pulled her wool socks on and up her legs before swinging her feet onto the cold polished floor. The room smelled of fresh thatch, smoky pitch, and Brazilian floor wax. In the outdoor kitchen, Festal had built a fire and water was heating. She heard the popping of the firewood as pitch flared up, and smelled the fragrant smoke.

  Immediately she headed for the latrine and noticed a bowl of water, soap, and a towel set out in the small building. The walls were freshly whitewashed and on the back wall there was a crescent-shaped opening so she could see the valley below. She had not noticed this the evening before in her rush to relieve herself. She washed and returned to the house, her legs damp and stinging from grasses that had brushed them.

  Myrna put leaves in the china pot then went out to the kitchen where she dipped boiling water from the large iron pot for the tea. By the time Festal returned, she had made small sandwiches with hard biscuits and barbecued eggs her mother had packed. She opened a can of sardines. Until they bought some provisions, it was the best she could do. Festal came back from checking on his calves and Myrna said she wanted to see them.

  “Let’s eat something first, then I will show them to you.”

  They ate without talking and drank the hot tea from enamel mugs with fresh cow’s milk. When they were done he led her out to see his cattle. Morning sun sent a glow around the corral. Gigantic Brahmin, Watusi, and Holstein-cross cows, as well as some white face mixes stared at her as she entered the area. Festal named off the breeds to her. She was startled by the length and thickness of their horns and the sudden tossing of their heads. Their warm breath made puffs of blue against the morning cold and she could see how damp their noses were. The calves lay in a small paddock piled in the corner for warmth. Their heavy coats of black and white hair were tufted up as though they had just been licked. Their eyes were heavy with sleep as they had just finished their morning milk and were ready to nap. Festal had rigged a leather milking bucket with a nipple for those without a mother.

  “Most of the ranchers just abandon these,” he explained. “But this is how I got ahead. I saved them and started my herd.” He didn’t tell her how many cattle he owned, but she could see there were six healthy calves of all colors that he had just fed. She reached over to pet them and rub their soft sides.

  “After we finish putting the supplies away, the neighbors want to meet you. If you’re not too tired,” he added.

  As Myrna walked back to the house with Festal she felt the heat on her face. The flies were beginning to come inside the house. She decided that while Festal was away at work, she would make some curtains for the window opening and the door. This should keep the majority of them out. She would also have to make covers for the bread and fruit dishes, she thought, as she looked at the onions and yams that were now covered with flies. She stepped outside to the kitchen and put the cover on the large cauldron of water over the fire, pushed the fire logs beneath its legs, and placed the dirty dishes in a metal basin to rinse. She asked Festal where she could bathe.

  “I made you a place where no one can see you,” he said. “I will show you.”

  Myrna, was raised in a large family, and had never worried about anyone watching her bathe, it just didn’t happen. At home, she took her bath behind the reed screen when the boys were at school and the men were working, as did her mother and sister. Well, she would have new ways to learn, that was for sure. She followed Festal behind the rondavel to a building with a spiral opening like the shell of a snail, so that no one could see the bather. The leather bucket above her head was on a pulley and when she pulled a rope, the bucket would empty onto her to rinse away the soap. There was a metal pan to stand in to catch the water that would then be used to water the orchard. She touched the new towel that hung on a wooden peg and felt the roughness of the loofah sponge hanging beside it. A bar of green soap was on the washroom floor. Festal filled the leather bucket above her with heated water, then left her to finish her bath.

  CHAPTER 6

  VIOLET MEETS HER MAN

  It is the weekend and I am at home reading my diary. So much has gone on in my life in the last few months. I have just jotted down brief notes. I want to read it and catch up. Mother has gone to the market with the baby Jethro and Father is talking bricks with someone. The boys are playing and this is my chance.

  February 19 – Dear Diary. I met someone at Myrna’s wedding. He came alone and by the time he reached the reception, his shiny black shoes were all dusty. He said he wanted to see me and had caught a glimpse of me in church when I was singing. His name is Joseph.

  Actually, I had noticed Joseph earlier. He is not from these parts. I liked his face and the way he lost his thoughts when I smiled at him in church. I saw him stop singing and lose his place. He is about 20 and works for the Indian shopkeeper at the mercantile store.

  When Mother and I first went to Joseph’s shop for cloth, he put some extra cloth in her bag, and made sure she counted her change. I was with her and know he wanted to look at me, but he never took his eyes off my mother. Even pregnant, she is an impala woman, as my dad calls her. Her skin glows golden and her large eyes take on a startled look when she first hears something. Her cheeks pull in with two tiny puckers when she smiles. Dimples. That is the word. Sometimes I start to say pimples. I have to think about it each time I go to describe them. Dimples. Mother did not comment on her condition, but I know it pleased her when I told her she was the most beautiful pregnant woman in our house. After she had baby Jethro, she turned slim almost immediately. I am writing this diary in English as I want to keep up my languages. Joseph says this is important in any business. I am making short entries in my journal, just enough to remind myself of what is going on, so I don’t run out of pages. Love, Violet.

  The second Sunday in February, Joseph returned to the Full Gospel Presbyterian church. Violet’s choir was performing at another congregation at that time, but he didn’t know that, so his eyes roamed the sanctuary, looking for the girl who he secretly called his impala girl. His disappointment at not seeing her among the singers was noted by Dodge, who approached Joseph in the narthex shortly after the rains had started. The two men, along with the majority of the congregation, were trapped inside, until the deluge ended. Dodge put his arm around Joseph and said, “I have been watching you for some time. I have a niece that sings like an angel-perhaps you have heard her in the youth choir.”

  “Yes. There is one girl I have noticed that is tall and has large eyes.” Joseph went into a reverie as he thought of the girl that sang so beautifully and who he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

  Eyes so widely spaced so that the white of them made you look only at her face. She was a slim and tall girl, tall like himself. I didn’t pay much attention to anything else, although I tried to follow the logic in the sermon, and dutifully opened to the passages in my-new Bible It is leather bound with gold edged pages, and the cover of it is embossed in gold with my name, Leibitsang. It gives me pleasure as it is the first book I have ever owned. While I cannot read it, I can find the page number and chapter, and follow along with the reading, and depend on the pastor to tell me what it says. It feels powerful to be a man who knows book, and this is where I will rec
ord my wedding and the birth of my children.

  Dodge was going with what resembled a sales pitch on the family, lineage and pedigree of the girl. Joseph tuned the man out, but nodded occasionally as Dodge went on, in case there was something in his words that could help him with his pursuit of the girl.

  “You are looking very downcast, as though you have lost your best friend. I came over to welcome you to a family gathering, as my lovely niece is getting married.”

  “The Chitundu girl?” Joseph couldn’t control his voice.

  “Now don’t look so crestfallen. It is Myrna, the older sister who is having her nuptials. Your girl is still in the running. Myrna is marrying an older fellow from the north. She was in secondary school, but now she is a bride. I helped seal the deal, and it wasn’t the easiest transaction.” Dodge laughed with the memory of how this uppity girl had been trussed and brought to the altar with scarcely a whimper.

  Joseph was relieved to hear it was not the girl he admired, so let his defenses down.

  “Where is the wedding being held and how should I get there? I am not sure what I should wear. Will they welcome me? I need your advice.”

  “Don’t worry about being welcomed. I am inviting you. Wear a sports coat, or a suit, and I will come and pick you up next Friday at the mercantile store and take you to the event. It’s going to be in the large park next to this church. You can count on me.”

  “Do not mention me to the girl,” Dodge added. “I don’t want to take any credit. Let her think that the caterer told you to come, and that this is not your usual habit. She will be busy at the wedding, as she is the maid of honor, so you will see her and note if she is what you are interested in. I can tell you, you won’t find a better family, myself notwithstanding.” Dodge smiled at his skillful disclaimer, and thought what an attorney he could be, if he only had the desire to study those long hours.

  Friday, Joseph was ready and waiting for Dodge. When Dodge didn’t show up, he hired a taxi and made his way to the wedding of Myrna and Festal. The grounds beneath the majestic baobab and flame of the forest trees were filled with wedding guests and spectators.

  A truck with a cow standing in the back was parked under canopy of the trees, and her bellowing punctuated the service that followed. Joseph stood at the back of the seated throng of guests. The tent was filled with visitors, all dressed in their wedding finery. He recognized the fabrics and traditional cloths of regions he had traveled. The bride was beautiful and tall; young, and a little tearful. She was dressed in a simple muslin gown with a lace veil and a bouquet of red lilies. The groom, who seemed to be in his forties, was slightly shorter in stature, even though the bride was wearing sandals. He wore dark clothing and his nervous gestures may have made him seem older. He didn’t smile, and the deep lines at the corner of his eyes indicated long hours in the sun. His hair was thick and cropped short, but no silver showed in it and his eyes were amber in color, with long curled lashes. Intense, and not to be trifled with, this is how Joseph would have summed him up, had he been called to do so.

  Festal held on to the girl’s hand even after placing a gold band on her finger. The cow in the truck continued to bellow, now with continuous giant sobs of sound. The couple turned and faced the crowd and the bride handed her bouquet of flaming red lilies to a short, voluptuous woman, who was standing beside Violet, then the family headed to the reception in the adjacent field. Joseph followed the crowd of relatives and well-wishers.

  In the park, colored papers something like small flags lined the pathways. The food sat under small tents, and it was abundant. The bride and groom stood against a baobab tree while their picture was taken. Drinks were brought to them and plates of meat, breads, rice and groundnuts were served to the 300 or so people gathered in the park.

  Joseph tried to get close to the sister. He caught her name as the relatives congratulated the bride. Violet. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He stood at the side, watching the event take place, and comparing it with the celebration he would have when Violet made him her husband. Violet. Even the sound of it made his heart sing. He would provide dresses for all the bridesmaids, there would be at least five of them, and have plates for all the guests; even small napkins with their initials intertwined. There would be music and they would dance into the small hours of the morning.

  Just then Dodge came up to him, with no mention of the missed ride. “So, you are becoming part of the family,” he proclaimed. “Have you met the mother and father? They will need some persuading. I can help you with that. I don’t require much of a retainer. This is the ideal time to make your case, while they are still enjoying the fruits of the first pairing.” Dodge laughed at his poetic rendering of the event. “Then the newlywed couple is off to cattle country. But you could keep their last daughter, and her children to come, closer to home. This is a real benefit. You will have to tally up what it is you offer, if I am to negotiate this in all of our best interests.”

  Dodge gave Joseph a sideways glance to see if he was following the course of the conversation and was in agreement. His niece, Violet, was too tall for his liking, and she had always seemed a little lackluster when it came to chemistry, for his tastes in a mate—not that he intended to tie himself down with a woman anytime soon. Violet had stopped attending following graduation from basic school, but she had a beautiful singing voice. Her mother doted on her and she was given to superficiality. Dodge knew the girl looked down on him, and he thought she needed to be knocked down a few pegs, but Violet seemed to have registered on Joseph’s radar. He led the young man over to Violet’s parents and introduced him.

  “This is a friend of mine who owns the store where many of these fabrics are sold,” he said by way of introduction. Joseph bowed his head in greeting and lowered his right arm, supporting it with his left hand, to shake the hands of the parents. They said nothing but they saw the respect he offered. Dodge prattled on as usual. The parents’ focus was on Myrna and Festal, making sure the presents and goods were loaded onto their wagon and that everyone had been able to congratulate the couple.

  When Violet saw Dodge corner Joseph, and smiling, she had immediately ruled him out. But the young man had arrived at the reception alone, so maybe he had come of his own volition. She noticed his height and the care he took in his dress. His shoes were polished and his fingers were long and slim with buffed nails. She also noticed that he watched her, then would turn away with some shyness when she caught him looking.

  Violet was not doing much that hot season, and she found herself running errands for her mother, going to the mercantile store and buying fabric for the children’s uniforms, picking out a print to make a new skirt, and a top for the choir tour. The choir would be touring two other countries, and she wanted to distract herself from the loss of her sister and the revulsion she felt for the man her sister had married. Festal was a predator, just like Uncle Dodge. Violet could tell that from his eyes. He looked straight at her when he spoke, which was not often. Violet noticed how striking his eyes were in color and shape, with their curled lashes, and she had sketched them several times. She tried to capture the intensity of how the man looked at a person, and why his gaze was so piercing, but her drawings did not reflect his animal magnetism.

  Violet obsessed on Festal and how her sister connected with him because her Uncle Dodge had just told her that Myrna was pregnant, and she couldn’t imagine how this had happened. She was considering a piece of lace when she saw the young clerk looking at her intently and she said, “Didn’t I see you at my sister’s wedding?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know your sister at all, but I had to come.”

  “Was it the catering that interested you? That is what my Uncle Dodge told me.”

  “That is what he told me to say. He knows I am interested in…I didn’t even know your name when I came. Now I do. Violet, it is you that attracted me.”

  “I am glad you said that. I will mention to my father that you have a solid business.�
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  “I do not own this business. I am waiting for the right partner to make my ventures worth the effort. I want someone who can make something together with me, so that we are equals in life. That someone I have not had time to think about or find, but now I have hope.”

  Violet reached for money to pay for her dress goods, but Joseph shook his head. “These are a gift to you.”

  “I could never accept a gift from a man directly. What are you thinking?” Violet pulled three bills from her purse and pushed them across the counter, refusing to meet Joseph’s eyes. She looked out the open door as he put her cloth in a brown paper and carefully folded it into a neat packet, tying it with twine.

  “Violet, I have much to learn, but I am willing to be taught.”

  She blushed as she left the store, just as the owner of the mercantile walked in the door.

  “Good afternoon, Valoo.”

  “Joseph, who is that palm of a woman? Call me the next time she comes to the shop.”

  “She is my future wife,” Joseph heard himself say.

  “Well. Congratulations.” Valoo was puzzled at how he and his wife could have missed such a happening. This girl was quality, and now Joseph might be thinking of leaving. Valoo decided he had better give the boy a raise to keep him in the harness a little longer.

  “Joseph, I have been noticing how thorough you are with the inventory and the cleanup. I appreciate your attention to your work. I am going to give you a bonus at the end of the month for the extra hours you have put in. My customers always ask for you when I make the buying circuit. Keep up the good work. By the way, when is the big day?”

  “Thank you, Valoo. You and your wife and daughter will all be invited. We haven’t firmed up a date as of yet. We have to consider the mother, you know.”