by Suzanne Popp
“Gift, do not go to the river alone, and do not leave the children alone. They are too little to be near the cattle, the fire, or by themselves. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sister. I will be careful. I am grateful.”
When Festal came in for the evening meal the house was peaceful. The twins were nursing, one on Myrna’s lap, the second dandled and cuddled by Gift. Festal washed up and sat down to eat while the women took turns watching the children. It was a quiet meal, one of the first in months, and when they were done, Festal put the stools away. Then Myrna announced that Gift would be sleeping beside her, and that he could have the small rondavel for himself. “That way our caring for the children in the night will not wake you.”
Festal looked at the two women and headed for the rondavel. It is not what he imagined, but he could not argue with the logic of the arrangement. In the morning, Myrna saw him talking to the girl. Gift was bringing the firewood from the storehouse.
“I am not married,” Myrna heard Gift say to her husband.
That afternoon when Myrna was hanging out the washing, she saw Festal leave for town with the donkey cart. They needed supplies, so she didn’t think anything of it. Gift had asked previously for the afternoon off to get the rest of her belongings from the Big Banana Bar.
CHAPTER 26
GIFT MARRIES FESTAL
When Festal returned that evening, he had Gift on the seat beside him. She was smiling and showed Myrna her wedding band. “We are now real sisters,” she said. “Festal has made me the second wife.”
Myrna dropped the sheet she was folding and went into the house. She had no words to describe the bitterness and the gall that percolated up into her chest. The twins were sleeping and it was relatively quiet. She walked back out the door and headed for the calf pen. She could still see the doorway of the house above her as she walked down the path, and Gift standing there beside Festal. Beside her husband. Myrna’s eyes were red with rage. What remarks would her sister Violet make about her now? Replaced at twenty-one by a stunted teenager all of thirteen, who had worked in a bar, and who knows where else? Had she really believed that this girl would only be a serving maid to help her with the children?
She gave herself full rein to revile this girl, her husband, and Uncle Dodge. Oh, there were precedents, to be sure. Myrna knew her Bible. She thought of Tamar’s rejection after being raped by her brother, of Laban’s betrayal of Jacob, and his anger at finding the older sister under the veil, the disappointment of Sarah at having no children, and her disgust with Hagar once she was pregnant. All the stories of rape, of betrayal, of jealousy and deceit piled up in her mind like rotted corpses.
She stacked up her weapons then she took fire at Festal. He was ignorant, illiterate, old, and single minded. She had been sold to him, and she had cost him dearly. He was getting his money’s worth with six children in six years. What had he bartered for this wench? Once she let the full weight of her anger and fury go from her, the balance began to restore itself. Was she better off without Festal? No. Did she want someone else to take her place? No. She knew she loved him. She knew he loved her. He had been good to her, as best he could. Like Joseph in the Bible, he had privately handled any questions he had on why their child had arrived so soon. He had not abused her or the children. She had never said she did not want another woman in the house. She had probably said more than once that she could use some help.
Now, here was a girl, dumb as a stick, to be sure, who had come into their lives and who needed love and protection. She knew nothing about this girl, but she knew what was right. The passages about the Shummanite woman who made room for Elijah and continued to show hospitality, even when her child was mortally ill, came to her. “All is well.” It became a phrase she could use to clear her head. What thought could she use to displace her anger? Then she recalled Wellington Taylor and the advice he had given. Be the Prince of Love.
Wellington Taylor, her tutor, had once told the class they could write him and ask for advice. One student had asked for advice in love, and named Wellington the Prince of Love. While the message had been humorous, Myrna had often wished for more knowledge of how to love well. Here was her chance to practice love. This girl had obviously had some tough experiences. She was now part of the family. Could Myrna love her and have her feel loved? They would be raising their children together. The girl was legally married to her husband. If she could believe that what anyone intended for evil, God could make good. Myrna would be the love that this house needed. She would be the Doctor of Love and heal the wounds of herself and Gift. She would not allow her heart or her lips to condemn what this foolish girl had done, what this foolish husband had done. She would not hate Dodge, but she would never allow him to destroy the peace in her home. She would accept the gift that had been given to them both.
It was enough for now to remain silent and wait for understanding. She heard her twins wailing, but ignored them. Let this new wife figure out how to make peace in her household. She could feel her milk coming in. She looked back up at the house and saw Festal carrying both of the twins, trying to balance one on each arm. Myrna let him carry them down the steep path and come to the meadow where she was sitting. She took one twin from him and nursed him, then reached for the second. When they were both fed, Myrna handed them to her husband and followed him slowly up to the house. She sat on the bed while Festal tucked them into bed. He then left the room.
Myrna told Gift to go and bring her the box at the end of her bed. Then she gave Gift a nightgown to wear and put the impala necklace around her neck, spraying some of her floral perfume on the girl. She could not have said what possessed her to put the love amulet that Festal had made her on the girl, but she was compelled to do it. He had to know that love was not so easily shared, or it could be lost. At best, it was altered.
That night, Gift slept in the small rondavel with Festal. In the morning, the girl was up early. She came into the house. “Festal will not be at breakfast. He is going to town to straighten something out with Dodge.” Gift picked up Samuel and rocked him in her arms. Myrna noticed bruises on her neck as the oversized night robe slipped off the girl’s thin shoulder. The impala necklace was missing from her throat.
“Gift, we can talk. Or we can just do the chores and wait until we both are used to this new arrangement. Let me know if you need something from me.”
Gift looked at her in disbelief. “I thought you arranged this. I know Dodge is your Uncle. Didn’t you know they wanted me to marry Festal?”
“What is done is done. No one told me Festal was taking another wife. You are young. We have to be careful not to get pregnant too soon after the twins. Maybe he was thinking of me or the children. Maybe he thought he was helping you out.” Neither of the women had mentioned that Gift was pregnant. Maybe the girl was like her, and didn’t know. Myrna thought somehow that Gift had more experience with men than she had at that age. What was clear was the girl did not know how to manage Festal. She would talk to her about that once she was sure what she said would not be the topic of their nuptial conversations. She wanted to trust this girl, but she really knew nothing about her, other than Uncle Dodge had been involved.
Gift was silent and plunked herself down on a stool without being asked. Myrna made her a cup of tea, and waited for the girl to talk.
“I didn’t want to leave here,” she said. “I told him I couldn’t sleep with him because we weren’t married.”
“So,” he said “let’s get married.” We signed the papers and he gave me the ring. But when I tried to make him like me last night, he hit me and said I wasn’t worth the thong on your sandal. She broke into sobs and Myrna poured her another cup of tea. The twins were both awake now and loud, so each woman picked up a soiled baby and started to laugh. Myrna thought she could tell the girl some things about what her husband liked, and what he didn’t, but she might also learn a few things about men from this girl. She was not entirely sorry to see the girl had had a rou
gh night. Myrna would be glad to have help with the children. They were going to have some bumps in the road ahead—that was becoming clear. Compared to the loss of Lily, the addition of this girl to their family was a small sacrifice. Maybe the two of them could make sure that all the remaining children were healthy.
After the girl finished cleaning her twin, she straightened her headscarf and looked in the mirror, laughing again at the mess her face was in. By the time Festal returned from the pastures, the house was tidy, all the children bathed and the wash was ironed and put away. Gift was wearing a fresh blouse and had her hair brushed and a clean skirt wrapped around her waist. She smelled of lavender and did not say a word as the man ate his dinner. After the plates were cleared, she asked if there was anything Myrna or Festal needed, and then excused herself to go and play with the children before bedtime. Festal looked at Myrna in amazement, and then kissed her fully on the lips for the first time, before going to his rondavel to sleep alone. The Prince of Love was tired.
Myrna had never been kissed before. What else would they learn from this girl?
Gift could not see well. Myrna discovered this when she set out some glasses for the girl to wash and dry. Gift couldn’t tell which were clean and which were not. She did better with the pots, which only required a swipe with the fingertips to see if the food was still stuck on them. When she cleaned the babies, she placed her nose almost on the child to make sure she had done a thorough job. Myrna tried to explain to her about germs, but the girl thought she was telling her a folk story. She also confessed that she did not really think children were human.
Gift was a huge help with the laundry. It took two people to twist the towels and bedclothes to get most of the water out of them. Myrna’s hands had been raw with the work of cleaning the nappies for the twins. As the days progressed, Gift occasionally was called to Festal’s rondavel for the night. Myrna would then have the children to mind through the night, and the twins were relentless. Every two hours one of them needed to be fed. If she was not quick, the second one would be wakened and screaming and the first one would then start. Because there were two of them, they were not bowel trained as she had done with each of her girls. This required her to be constantly cleaning diaper cloths, which she now washed twice a day. Fortunately, the rains had not come, so the cloths dried quickly. Gift would iron the diapers when she took them down to kill the fly eggs so the boys would not get larva hatching on their bodies.
It always amazed Myrna how the other children could sleep through the uproar. Both boys together could not reach the pitch that Daisy had managed in her infancy. Festal could not sleep through the crying, as he had many years of living alone in the wilderness of the cattle station, with only the occasional howl of a hyena or the lowing of the cattle. His separate rondavel made it possible for him to endure the five young children without interruption of his sleep.
CHAPTER 27
GIFT DELIVERS
Six months had gone by and Gift’s pregnancy was evident. Festal said nothing of this, but Dodge returned two goats that had been gone from the farm about the time the girl came to live with them. There was no sense of when the baby would come, as Gift had never had periods and no one in the house had a calendar to figure dates. It was well known that first babies could come anytime.
One afternoon when Festal was away, Gift suddenly experienced sharp pains while she was using the latrine and called out to Myrna. Myrna put a twin on each hip and went out to see what the matter was. She could see the girl was doubled over in pain and the waters had broken.
“Gift, this means the baby will come very soon. Stay put and do not move. I will hitch up the animals and come for you with the wagon. Festal is in the far pasture today.”
After placing the large cook pot on the wagon, Myrna put the twins inside on top of a blanket, and then put a cloth over the top, fastening her makeshift pen to the wagon sides. Myrna rushed out to locate the hobbled donkeys to hitch them to the cart, something she had never done before. She sent the three girls to the neighbors’ house, all of them holding the corner of a towel as they walked. Only when she saw Lottie wave, did she turn and lead the donkeys near the latrine and pull the howling Gift onto the wagon, on top of the clean sleeping cloths she had laid out. By this time, Gift and the twins were all making plenty of noise. Myrna grabbed a knife and a piece of string and a jug of boiled water from the pot in the outdoor kitchen, and then got up in the driver’s seat. The donkeys set off at a trot for the hospital.
About halfway to the clinic, Gift shrieked, “It’s coming! I can’t hold back!” Myrna parked the wagon in the shade of a eucalyptus grove, hobbled the donkeys and spread out the sheet, fresh off the courtyard wall, on the wagon floor. As she saw the water flowing in the wagon bed, she had Gift spread her legs and the head was right there. The skin was taut and the child tore out of the mother like a fish at the end of a wet silken cord. Myrna caught the baby midair, a boy who was somewhat shriveled on one side. She dried him off with the edge of the sheet, wrapping him in fabric as she laid him on Gift’s deflated abdomen. His legs were withered and curled up tight against his buttocks. His head was red and bruised with a tangle of wet thin tendrils glued to the top with a white, pasty substance. Myrna offered Gift a drink of water. Once the placenta was passed, she poured the remainder of the water over the girl’s pelvis. She dropped the placenta into the earthen jar. As the blood cleared and the adrenalin left Myrna’s system, she noticed that the girl had been excised. She had heard of this practice, but she had never seen the results.
When the baby came, everything had torn open, and there was a gaping opening that could not easily be closed. She wrapped the remainder of the sleeping cloths around the mother’s hips, gave her a hug, then put another cloth under her head before heading to the clinic. Myrna felt the milk streaming down her chest as the twins cried out. She hoped the clinic would have the skill to patch this girl together.
Gift kissed the tiny boy on his head, still panting from pain and the effort of giving birth to him. She fell asleep and the child slid off her stomach. Myrna slowed the donkeys, reached back and pulled the baby to her, opening her blouse and letting him nurse. He latched on and began to suck. She let him nurse until he fell asleep, then put him back beside his mother in the wagon bed.
The fact that he was small and undernourished had probably saved the girl’s life; the nurses told Myrna when they reached the hospital. They were praising Myrna for saving the girl and her baby. They said she had the skills that were needed to be a surgeon, or at least a midwife. To Gift, they presented a tiny knit cap and quickly wrapped the wizened baby in a gown to conceal his legs from the mother. The nurses placed the baby at Gift’s breast and encouraged Gift to let him nurse as long as he could to get some energy. He latched onto his mother like a honey badger scenting honey.
Myrna was pleased at how they built Gift up, even as they discussed how to mend the fistula the birth had caused, and to make sure her excision was properly mended. It had been a struggle for Myrna to deal with the moaning, the blood, and the sight of torn flesh. For the first time, Myrna wondered if she would have had the aptitude to handle this each day as a doctor, or whether she would want to.
Festal came into the room and all three nurses said, “Another boy.” Festal was worried at the news of the girl going into labor when she did, and how they had managed to get to the hospital. Myrna had never harnessed the donkeys before.
“I don’t think she has ever been a midwife before, either,” said Gift. “The nurses say she could be a surgeon, the way she saved our baby.” Festal looked at the blood covering the cart, and the makeshift playpen the twins had shared, then thought he was going to be sick. He pulled his babies out of the pot and handed one to Myrna, cradling the second one against his chest. When Reuben was finished nursing, he passed Samuel to her, holding Reuben in one arm as he adjusted the blanket at the bottom of the pot. His head was pounding at the news of another son, and a wife that was so damag
ed. She would need a year’s care before returning to her duties. He needed to get his life on track if these children were going to survive. When he saw the tiny boy with his shriveled side and pasted down hair, he felt an immediate and fierce love for this child that his mother had named Royal Festal.
A week later, his family was together again at the rondavel. Gift could not have relations for a year, and she was to report back to the hospital within a month to check on her fistula repair. She was flattened and tired looking; with great breasts that poured out milk whenever she looked at the tiny boy she named Royal Festal. Festal was afraid to pick him up as his skin looked so fragile. Neither of the wives remarked on how quick the baby had come, or that he looked nothing like the other children. It was enough that he was alive and that Festal had another son.
Joseph was most impressed by Myrna. On his travels to Copperfine to buy beef and hides, he had heard about the good wife from the villagers and learned they were talking about his sister-in-law, as the woman of virtue from the Bible. Myrna was living it out. Joseph asked himself how she could tolerate being uprooted from her schooling. Formal learning had never appealed to Violet, but Joseph had yearned for an education—and he could feel what a loss this must have been to the girl. Violet had said that Myrna was brilliant, and from the scholarship she received, the government had clearly identified her as one in a million.
What surprised Joseph the most was that Myrna was not bitter about her situation. No one in the family had ever heard her complain, even when she lost her first child, and later when Festal took a second wife half her age. How could she allow her husband to take in an orphan child and then allow him to marry her?