Chapter Eight

EIGHT

Someone is touching my leg. I first felt it from my sleep. I slowly open my eyes and note where I slept close to the television. I note that I slept. My spirit lifts even as I watch the boots that crossed over my leg. The person puts off the television and walks towards the couch designated to me. He lifts the teddy and I immediately scramble to my feet. ‘’Drop. it.’’

He first tilts his head as he checks out the knife in my hand, he then studies the teddy bear. His eyes return to me quickly. ‘’Who are you?’’

‘’Who are you?’’ I return to him.

He shakes his head and scoffs. ‘’One of Zuri’s nuisances.’’

He drops the teddy and turns away. I do not mind being called a nuisance. With the way he begins to pull his t-shirt over his head, it is established that Zuri is the lantern seller and this is the brother.

I pad across the room and peep as he enters one of the rooms close to the bathroom I used. He leaves the door open and later comes out without his boots. I walk back and settle on the couch. I put back the knife and hug my teddy. I lean back and try to sleep but it is not working. I lie down and try to assume the careless position I found myself in when I woke up with a book on my chest.

It is an endless moment of changing positions and keeping my eyes closed. I return to the floor and lay myself on the gray concrete floor close to the stool. I close my eyes lying there but instead of my mind wandering into oblivion, it wanders around the activities I have engaged in the past few days.

Now it is hard to understand where I am at the moment. Could this all be a plan or a trap?

Why did she leave weapons in my room?

Why was that door open on that day?

Why was she keeping me?

Could she have been looking for me?

I begin to hum while sorting through the books for another book to read. There are books on building constructions, one christain book and that is all. I pick one of the construction books.

I have read different books covering different aspects of life before. Right from when I stopped legally going to school at fifteen. Uncle Joel said I had become expensive. Then I fell back to sneaking into any class that I could, gathering knowledge in everything while being nothing.

I flip through this text without interest and when I am unable to adjust my mind to sleep or read, I let out a long scream. It frees up the bottled emotions- it unwinds me. I inhale deeply and let it all out.

A presence towers at the entrance of the sitting room. I raise myself and stare at him. He stares back for a while then he walks away. I keep sitting staring at the space he occupied even after he leaves.

I move to the window and feed my eyes with the view of the buildings littered around. I wish one had an open window where I can anonymously see the private lives of another person. The thought alone amuses me.

After I tie up my hair in my shirt and stuff inside the teddy, I ignore the restriction warnings and walk to the kitchen. One paper bag is still on a table in the kitchen. I am a little disappointed that she forgot to feed me tonight when it is part of our agreement.

I can see little of the world from the window here. At Least I can see the queue in front of the barbecue joint and people still walking in the street.

I settle on a chair at the table. I am not famished but I still dig into the porridge and consume the last of its contents. A little skeptical about the fluids in transparent jars in the old fridge, I move to the tap and lap water from my palm before leaving the kitchen.

Having limited options, I resign to reading about building nails and ceilings while lying on the couch. It is there I am lying when distinctly audible footsteps approach. I sit up as she comes closer. She is still putting on the small satin nightwear she must have used to sleep.

She clasps her hands together and does something with her eyes. Confused, I wonder if she is a sleep walker.

‘’ I am sorry I forgot to hand you your meal last night,’’ she says, coming closer.

‘’ I already ate.’’

‘’Oh?’’ she mouths, turning to the direction of the kitchen.

‘’ I could not find the waste bin so I left it on the table.’’

She nods more than she should while her eyes dart around the room, probably trying to note what else I touched. Her eyes then focus on me. ‘’ My name is Zuri. if you need anything, ask me.’’

‘’ Can I get a thread and needle?’’

‘’Sure, ‘’ she replies

She starts to leave but pauses at the door. ‘’Do you have a name?’’

‘’ Imani.’’

‘’Imani,’’ she says, trying out the name.

I nod and watch her leave the room. Soon she returns with the thread and needle. She sits beside me while I begin to construct straps to the teddy bear. She does not say a word and I appreciate the silence as I work.

She puts on the television and tunes through the channels. After a while she lets a military movie play. ‘’ I will go for a tutorial before turning up at the shop,’’ she says.

‘’Do you need me to go ahead?’’

‘’No.’’

I shrug. ‘’I know the worth of things.’’

She smiles and sits on another couch. She does not trust me. I could seem like a vagrant roaming the streets to her. I am that and worse. I do not trust myself either. The risk she must feel she is taking to bring me into her home. It is indeed a valid feeling.

I hang the teddy on my shoulder to check the fitting. Zuri throws a glance at me and looks away. ‘’You must love it,’’ she says with her eyes on the TV.

I do not think the question deserves a reply. I just nod even though her eyes are elsewhere.

‘’My brother must be sleeping now but I am going to leave a note for him to let him know you will be staying a while so you guys don't awkwardly bump into each other.’’

‘’Cool,’’ I say.

When I am done I face the television. She is watching a show of soldiers who do not know how to fight or handle a gun. Severally she giggles into her palm and then looks at me like it is wrong for me to see her response to comedy.

When the show is over, she gets up and goes into the kitchen. I sit still and focus my ears and nose to know what she is doing. There is some clattering of pans, some cursing and then silence. I hear the sound of a spoon being hit against a plate.

I do not have the patience to keep using my senses so I tiptoe to the door of the parlour where I can just see the kitchen which is the room after the parlor facing the corridor of three rooms.

Pancakes. She is making pancakes. I almost shout in glee. I tiptoe back and arrange the books I used last night or early this morning.

I am lying on my side on the couch with my knee close to my chest when she comes in. She says I can go to the kitchen and eat while she lowers herself to the red rug close to the door. It looks like a place a dog would stay to eat. It seems off, seems abnormal that she would leave the centre of the living room and move to the door. I sigh and walk to the kitchen.

I carry my plate and stand close to the window as I eat. A delivery truck is offloading. People are in a queue infront of it. It feels strange to see people in this part of the world exhibit a certain level of order.

A man in blue overalls is writing out something as he walks down the queue. He hands each person a card or paper after he collects their money. Another man is walking around with a gun in his hand. With the way he held it, it looked like a toy but people respected it.

Before noon, Zuri comes out dressed in a pink ripped shorts and a white turtleneck sweater. Her boots first announce her presence as she enters. She lowers a small carton on the couch. ‘’ I had to sort out some stuff for you.’’

I peep into the carton and look back at her. Using a finger I move the fabrics inside around then I look up and smile. She is only able to think of lending me her clothes because I have lost a whole lot of weight these past months. I do not know if my smile is broad enough to show I am grateful or if I should have clapped and squealed.

She does not leave immediately. She must be thinking of orders to dish out. She points at me with her eyes narrowed. ‘’Your hair,’’ she says. ‘’ I really thought you were on one bushy stuff yesterday.’’

One bushy stuff.

My inability to find a response makes her lean off the couch. ‘’ Be ready before I get back.’’

‘’ I will be.’’

Except for the sound of the woman singing on the TV, inside the house is silent after she leaves. I do not like how the woman's voice sounds too thin and patronizing. My mothers voice was like that - too thin like a cat's cry. I hated it most on days she sat at the foot of my bed massaging my feet and apologizing for the depthless pain she thought I must feel. I do not know what use it was but I never told her it was a waste of time.

I move to the door and lock it with the bolt first then raise the latch over it before hooking back the chain connecting the door to the wall.

I walk back and disconnect some wires from the television and soon it is a fizzling box. I’m more comfortable with this meaningless sound. I pick a book, ‘’ The Caucasian chalk’’ and sit beside the stool.

So many times, I have compared this story to the story of the two women in the holy book who slept side by side with their babies. One of the women wakes in the middle of the night and finds her baby dead. She then goes ahead to swap her dead baby with her neighbour's sleeping baby. The case gets to the king and the king declares that the living baby should be shared amongst the women. The real mother cries and refuses while the other woman agrees to it.

‘’The caucasian chalk circle’’ reminds me of that story at the point the child was put in a circle and it was declared that the real mother of the child and the woman who raised the child should drag the child. Whosoever drags the child out of that circle, gets the child. The woman who raised the child cried out and refused lest the child's arms break while the real mother was ready to drag her son out of the circle.

I know my mother would want to drag me if she is ever put in the place. She will be too desperate to have me around her that she'll forget what is best for me.

A door opens and the sound of swift footsteps follows. I look and wait. The footsteps get closer and closer then corners into the kitchen before coming into the sitting room.

He stands at the door and his eyes float across the room and lands on me. He just stands there in a pullover and trouser and stares like he is half awake.

‘’Why are you always there?’’ he asks, taking a few steps into the sitting room.

I roll my eyes. That he just saw me here last night does not mean I am ‘’always’’ here. I am not supposed to even answer that.

‘’Imani right?’’ he asks. ‘’Zuri said that's your name.’

‘’It is.’’

‘’Alright. Come let me show you where you will be staying.’’

I remain on the floor. ‘’Have you cleared out your stuff?’’

He touches his forehead. ‘’She said you are not staying for long.’’ It sounds like a question and I almost laugh at the impatience in his voice. He was letting himself get annoyed because of me.

‘’But I am.’’

He takes in everything he feels then audibly exhales before leaving. I hang my teddy and go to meet him. I already know where the sound of his door comes from. It comes from the last room close to my bathroom and Zuri's door sound comes from the middle room. My room had to be the first room.

‘’Which room is it?’ I ask as I stand at the door of the kitchen.

He lifts his eyes and casually returns it to his tea. I love the smell of cinnamon the tea comes with. I can almost taste it.

‘’Look, I don't have the time to play around. She said you are helping out with the shop that is why I am being patient.’’

Why was he talking about patience when I hardly even took his time? He takes his time sipping his tea and I linger at the door looking around their small kitchen.

They pasted pages of old magazines on their fridge and on some parts of the wall. I wonder if it is for decoration or something done out of boredom. I walk to the window and look. The truck is gone and the crowd has dispersed. Now umbrellas have been set up with different goods displayed.

‘’She said you don't have a place to stay,’’ he says.

I look at him and shrug. ‘’Yes.’’

‘’Where were you before?’’

‘’In the streets, in empty apartments.’’

He closes his eyes for a second as if in thoughts then gets to his feet. ‘’Let me show you the room.’’

I follow him to the first room. The bed is arranged with a blue cartoon bedsheet. That is all that is arranged about the room. There are cartons of different sizes everywhere and a table holding more cartons. Bags are arraigned all over the floor. It is as if I am expected to dive from the door straight into the bed.

‘’It is nice,’’ I say.

He snorts. ‘’The look on your face says something else.’’

I bring my teddy to the front so I can hug it as I journey into the wilderness. I am not complaining or dissatisfied. It is this or sleeping in the same room with a bunch of maniacs.

‘’ I am going to clear out the place slowly, okay? Just try to fit in some how.’’

His attempt at being nice makes me laugh after acting ‘’impatient’’ earlier on. I feel his eyes on me then he pats his trousers and leaves.