But Deliver Us from Evil
Page 26
There is a scuffle behind her. People rush but they are that fraction too late.
Motsumi’s mother runs. Nthebolang feels the disturbed air rush past her and looks up. Mma Motsumi pauses at the rock ledge – but only for a fraction of a second – and then she steps over. One step, and then gone. No sound except the shocked screams of the women who tried their best to contain their emotions. They hadn’t expected this – it is too much – and it all spills over, flowing like water, covering everything.
The wailing begins because all mothers know the pain that led Mma Motsumi to act. It might just as easily have been one of them. That pain is felt deep within each of them, deeper than anything, and they must let it out.
Chapter Forty-three
Beatrice meets Nthebolang at the gate. She takes her hand and they walk to the back of the kitchen to talk away from others. They sit on the ground, their legs in front of them, leaning against the kitchen wall. Beatrice holds Nthebolang’s hand in her lap. Nthebolang feels only weakness.
‘You didn’t tell me it would be like that,’ says Nthebolang. ‘You lied to me.’ She starts to cry. ‘I was so scared and confused at the kgotla. It was as if everyone was against me.’
‘It needed to be that way. I know it was painful for you, confusing, but in the end we got what we wanted,’ says Beatrice. ‘And I was always with you.’
‘What about Seabe? And Mmapitse? I thought that they would go too. Won’t they be punished?’
Beatrice realises that she has broken promises to Nthebolang and feels bad about that. Later, when they’re away from this place, she’ll explain that it was to protect her. Perhaps not the saving of Mmapitse and Seabe, though – that was the price she had to pay for the justice that they required.
‘Your father was a good man,’ says Beatrice. ‘Barobi stole him from you, and in the process ruined your life, and your mother’s too. He was an evil man. He’s been punished now. Thanks to you, your father can rest peacefully. It’s time for you to let the pain go.’
‘But Motsumi …’ Nthebolang says. She weeps, letting the tears pour down her face. Beatrice wipes them away.
‘No, try not to think of him. He wasn’t who you thought he was. You were unable to understand what I was telling you. He was not innocent. You were merely his tool. Nthebolang, he was never going to leave with you, but he blocked you from seeing that. I told you, he was a dangerous man. He manipulated your kind heart, wounded it – that’s a crime. A weak, greedy man is a very dangerous animal and such an animal must be put down. You’re safe from him now. The punishment was just.’
‘I loved him.’
‘No,’ says Beatrice, ‘that was not love. You’ll see one day. You only settled for that corrupted love that Motsumi offered because you thought it was all you deserved. You were wrong.’
Beatrice looks towards the village and wonders what will happen to Ntsweng. Mmapitse and Seabe have plans. Their greed for power is insatiable and, sadly, the people will have to pay. Her mind window tries to reveal the plans to Beatrice, but she doesn’t look. She doesn’t want to see. It will not be her problem. She would tell the king, except that would make him know that his sentencing was not quite complete. He’d been manipulated and Beatrice would not want him to have such regrets. She had her agreement with Mmapitse and it was now complete.
Nthebolang turns to Beatrice. ‘I kept my promise to my father, though … At least I did that. I think my father would be proud of me,’ she says.
Beatrice smiles and pats Nthebolang’s hand. ‘I know that he is.’
Chapter Forty-four
The wagon is packed. It’s early and they intend to be gone before anyone notices. They’re done with this church business. It had helped Nthebolang’s mother get through over her father’s death, but now its usefulness has expired. The mission station will wait nearly empty save for Thomas Milner. He’ll stay behind and hope for the best. Beatrice says eventually the Boers will kill him, but then Nthebolang thinks Thomas Milner is resourceful and slippery. He might find his way out.
Nthebolang sits at the back with Elizabeth. Beatrice and Mma Nthebolang sit at the front. Beatrice has the two guns she stole hidden in blankets behind the seat, and her knife is firmly around her neck as always. No one will trouble these women on their journey.
She has the money and the gold sovereigns Thomas Milner gave her hidden around the wagon. The gun deal made him a lot of money, more than they had anticipated. They’ll be wealthy when they arrive. Beatrice has promised Nthebolang’s mother that they’ll buy cattle – that made her happy, happier than Nthebolang has seen her for a very long time. The world is being set back to fairness, even if the route has been a circuitous one.
‘Is it going to be better where we’re going?’ Elizabeth asks Nthebolang.
‘Oh yes, it’s going to be much better. We’re going to be very happy, happier than we’ve ever been before. It’s lovely where we’re going.’
‘Will there be Boers there who want to kill us?’
‘No, they’re staying here. They’ll not trouble us again.’
‘Will the witches follow us?’
‘No … the witches have all been dealt with,’ Nthebolang says.
Beatrice turns and smiles at Nthebolang.
As the wagon begins to move, Nthebolang watches Thomas Milner standing at the gate, his face showing no emotion. He’s accepted his defeat, it seems. In a way, she feels sad for him. He’s made wrong choices, has believed the obvious, has tried to control what was far beyond him. Now he’ll have to accept the consequences. It’s only fair.
The oxen begin to get their rhythm and the journey starts. Nthebolang holds her stomach. She imagines her son moving, happy, the joy that courses through her blood moving through him too. For she feels joy, the joy of finally being free.
‘When we get there, I’m getting myself a horse, a tall grey stallion,’ says Beatrice, shouting back at them. ‘A wild one.’
Nthebolang laughs, thinking of Beatrice riding high up on a horse along the edge of the sea, that growling water-monster she can barely imagine. The idea is crazy. It all seems crazy, like a dream: where they’re heading, what they’ll find there, the life Beatrice has promised them.
But then, Nthebolang thinks, maybe everything is a dream until it becomes real.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to acknowledge the gracious assistance of Ellen Banda Aaku and Galefele Matlhwăi Molema in the development of this book.
I’d also like to thank Niq Mhlongo and Imraan Coovadia for reading the manuscript.
Ke a leboga le kamoso.
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