Binding Scars

by Maya Rossi

  The question landed like her slap earlier, with force. “Why?”

  “I just wondered. If you have a mother she must be very wicked.” She scratched her head. “How can she let you live like this? A servant?”

  I shrugged.

  “So,” she pressed. “Do you have a mother?”

  I met her gaze, and lied. “Not really.”

  Maybe she sensed the lie because she said softly, “I know I’m a bitch. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse except that people don’t just change. But I will try.”

  “OK.” It didn’t matter. I would have told her this, but I had Merrick on my mind.

  “Can I ask a question?” She pushed her empty plate aside after sometime.

  Like I had a choice. “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you come here when you are sent out, at night?” She cleaned her hands with the napkin. “You keep the key, there’s a mattress here. It will be easy.”

  “It’s my punishment,” I said. “And… ummm that’s how we were trained--”

  “You were trained?”

  “Yes.” I handed her a bottle of water. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know!” she wailed. As she went on and on, I gradually relaxed.

  Madam came around noon, and I went outside to give them privacy. An hour later, they left. I listened to Madam’s final instructions with a pounding heart. I hated what I was about to do, but I had no choice.

  Just before they left, she turned. “I hope Pa Nonso didn’t cause you any trouble?”

  I froze. Did she know anything, did Oga say something? “N-no.”

  “That man is a dog,” she murmured and led Blessing to her car.

  Five minutes later, I walked over to our closest neighbor, Mama Boy. “Madam send me go buy something. I de come.”

  She waved her permission. I ran back to secure the shop. But before I left, I took one thousand from our sales money. I silently reminded myself to take from Joy to replace it. I walked blindly, dark spots of fear coloring my vision, knowing I was betraying Madam. After everything she had done for me. I pictured her returning to the shop because she forgot something and quickened my footsteps. When a bike roared behind me, I shrieked.

  Merrick stopped watching me. I stared back, heart beat pounding sickly. He had dark shades on. Yet, I could feel the weight of his stare. He cocked his head. “Climb on.”

  Jesus. At least I could return Madam’s money later. I hiked my dress up and got on, self conscious for some reason. Throughout the long ride, I made sure our bodies didn’t touch. I refused to examine why that was so important right now. He suddenly stopped the bike, and I inched forward, my front slamming to his back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He turned sideways, his dark eyebrows inching over his shades. “If you slide any backward, you would fall off. Don’t worry, I don’t prey on children.”

  “Children?” I sputtered. “I’m not a child, I’m eighteen.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Those lips had kissed mine.

  “An adult wouldn’t have felt the need to defend her age.” His eyes met mine, and behind the shades I swore they danced in amusement. “But at least we know you want me to prey on you.”

  “Fuck off.” To my shock, I hit him. Lightly. But still.

  “So,” he said casually, “this place is so far off.”

  “We went to your side for a wedding the week before that’s how…” I trailed off.

  “Ah. So you come to my side of the woods to dance on the dark side?”

  “Fuck off,” I said, biting on my lips to hide my smile.

  He gunned the bike, shouting over the engine. “That sounds like something Joy would say.”

  He was right. “She’s been with Riggy?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted and pulled in front of the house.

  I waited as he parked the bike. Under the bright light of day, he was even younger than I thought. Early to mid-twenties. He was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His phone rang, and he took the call.

  “Yeah,” he said into the phone, pocketing his keys.

  “No.”

  “True.”

  “Sure.”

  And so the conversation went. Monosyllabic replies. He stepped to the gate, reaching for the door handle the same time as me. Our hands met, slid together, held for a single, breathless second. I blinked at our interlinked hands. His skin was a shiny black, far more than mine. My legs went a funny kind of weak, tingling like when I stood on a bank queue for too long.

  He was staring. I turned my head and met his gaze. He looked curious, head cocked to the side like he was trying to figure me out. “You’re staring,” I snapped.

  Those eyebrows went up. “And you’re looking.”

  Our gazes collided, heat danced up beneath my skin. I could feel nothing but the pressure of his stare behind those shades. It irritated me. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  I thought about it. I truly had nothing to be sorry for. “Nothing.”

  His lips twitched again. They were full, the lower one more than the upper lip. He had a girl’s mouth.

  “Good.”

  “Thank you,” I blurted.

  “For?” Those eyebrows again.

  I licked dry lips and broke our stand off, glancing at a spot beyond his shoulder. “For before.”

  “OK,” his voice was super gentle when he said, “But I have questions.”

  My head jerked up. “And I have no answers.”

  He released the gate and help up both hands in surrender. I would have believed him if it didn’t seem like his eyes were dancing behind those shades. “What else are you grateful for?”

  “Riggy,” I whispered. “I had nowhere to go and no right to impose on you.”

  He nodded. “Now, drop your hand.”

  It was surprise that made me obey. He pushed the door open and bade me enter. I frowned, looked from the open door to him and back again. “What’s the difference?”

  “Humor me.” He smiled.

  “What does that mean?”

  He stopped like my reply surprised him. He took off his glasses. His eyes were lighter than his skin, giving him strange but hauntingly beautiful eyes.

  “It means, just do what I ask.”

  “Only a slave does that,” I said.

  Those eyebrows went up again. His eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. He smelled of wind and dust and something I couldn’t make out. I stood my ground. “A slave, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sometimes, even free men do as they are told. It doesn’t make them slaves.”

  I nodded absently, staring at those eyes. “Is that why you wear dark shades?”

  It was his turn to back down, his boots making a scuffing sound as he took a step back. “I’ve been called names because of it.”

  “Because of what?” I asked.

  He took off his glasses and stared into my eyes. His eyes were an errie silver. It was all shiny and somehow dark too. Like the eyes of an albino, not that I had ever seen those.

  “A witch,” I said.

  “Or wizard.”

  “Wizard?”

  “The male version of a witch,” he corrected. He bade me enter. Again.

  It was surreal having someone hold a door for me. Being served. The whole time I had been here, I have been served, and not the other way round. I hesitated. You know those moments that changed the course of someone’s life? When you know there was no going back.

  I had the urge to turn around and run back to the shop.

  He didn’t say a word, just waited silently.

  The front door opened then, and the beautiful woman who served me stepped out. When she saw me, she stopped. It was like having your sins shoved in your face. This woman served me, cleaned after me.

  I glanced quickly at Merrick and he had that ‘I’m trying to figure you out’ look on his face. Irritated, I stabbed a finger in his chest
. “Stop.”

  His expression cleared. “Stop what?”

  “Whatever you’re doing.” I didn’t wait for his reply. I walked over to the woman. I wanted to hug or shake her. Something. But it was not my place. She was looking from me to Merrick now.

  “My name is Ada.”

  “I know. I’m Rachel.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” She looked at Merrick.

  He stalked past us. “I need water and food. Food,” he shouted at the top his lungs.

  A little girl of about four ran out, her pigtails bouncing. “Unnnncle!”

  Merrick laughed. “Is your name food?” He grabbed and held her high above his head to her delight.

  I watched them go, an odd ache in my breast. When I dragged my gaze back to Rachel, she had her arms folded across her middle, staring. “Are you ready to see her?”

  I didn’t know what I expected. But it certainly wasn’t this— Joy’s, and Riggy’s laughter mingled to an attractive sound. I hesitated at the door, surprised. When I pushed the door open, they stopped laughing.

  “Hey,” Riggy held out her arms, “it’s good to see you.”

  I hugged her tight, feeling close to tears myself. She was the strongest, calmest and oldest of us all. She dove her fingers into my hair and hushed me. “I’m alright.”

  I dipped my hand into the pocket of my dress and handed her the watch. The blue watch. She closed her eyes. Her dark lashes cast shadows across her fair cheeks. As always, her beauty took my breath away. Riggy was one of those rare people who had everything and nothing. Beauty in and out. The nicest and best human being I would meet.

  “You kept it,” she said tonelessly.

  Joy snatched the watch, holding it up between her thumb, and forefinger like it was trash. “How old is this thing again?”

  The sun was high, the grass dry and easy pickings as we weeded out and swept the compound. I was arguing with Ire, an unpleasant girl who liked to talk her way out of work. Madam Gold already announced Eriga was coming home. Ire had nasty things to say about that. I was seven, and it was my first year with Madam Gold. I met Eriga three months before.

  She made everything better. Held me close when I cried for home, taught me everything I knew. She even lied to Madam Gold to protect me. Eriga was like that. But she said to call her Riggy. I preferred Eriga because Riggy reminded me of a boy.

  Eriga didn’t push, but you could tell she didn’t like her name much. So I relented. When I remembered.

  We all worked hard to be picked by a Madam. No one worked harder than Riggy. I heard the rumors that Madam Gold wanted to make her a personal maid. Joy would later tell me Eriga refused. No one said no to Madam Gold. I still did not know how she managed it.

  At ten she was already too old to get a Madam. Many Madams liked their maids from age seven. I was the perfect age, but some preferred maids as young as five. Madam Gold said I was a gamble because I lacked training.

  I worked hard.

  Unlike Ire, who annoyed everyone and made our lives miserable, Riggy was kind and helpful. Even as I prayed she got a Madam, I prayed she stayed with Madam Gold. What would I do without her?

  In August, a madam came for Eriga. I cried, I would miss her. Joy assured me I would be too tired and weary to miss Riggy. That night Riggy crawled to my side of the room.

  “Work hard and don’t talk to the Madams, don’t talk at all. Mind your business and you’ll be fine.”

  The space was cramped, a boy had his head on my chest and the girl to my right had her hand across my stomach. I struggled to come close to Riggy, but she held me back. “Sleep.”

  “Riggy?”

  “I will get you a gift when we see again. What do you want?”

  I thought of the cheapest, gifty thing. “A watch?”

  “A watch it is.”

  I held on to that promise. No one, not Riggy warned me even seeing each again couldn’t be good. Our chores increased. They rented us out to farm lands, oil plantations, cassava farms. I got cuts on my hands and legs, calluses on my palms, and a deep cut on my thigh from a flying cutlass.

  I still missed Riggy.

  Not even a month later, Madam Gold announced Eriga would be visiting. We were outside again, peeling cassava tubers. Joy and Mary cut their hands with their cutlass when the announcement was made. They were better at peeling cassava than I was. They made five baskets each to my two in a day.

  I stared at the redness of the blood against the white of the cassava, and my heart sank. The other girls insisted it was not good, Riggy should not be back so soon. But I hoped.

  The next day, I got up early, waiting and preparing for Eriga. I no longer wanted a watch, I wanted her well and smiling as always. When the honk of a car sounded at the gate, I rushed to get it.

  Our driver drove the old car into the compound. The car doors opened. The moment our eyes met, I knew. She pushed a blue plastic watch into my hands as her mistress and Madam Gold walked past our gawking eyes into the office.

  For seven days we didn’t see Riggy. I imagined the worst. I had no choice, not with Joy telling me with excruciating detail what Madam Gold might be doing to Riggy.

  When she rejoined us, Riggy wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were old and weary. Her lovely hair completely shorn off her scalp like a boy with opinsiaringo. Her scalp was shiny, oily and devoid of hair. She could barely stand. And when I held her, she was so light, her wrist so bony, I thought she might break.

  Joy ran to her corner and got out a bottle of water. Eriga drank thirstily until Mary made her stop. We didn’t sleep that night because Riggy would cry loud, loud in her sleep. The sound still haunts me.

  “Eleven years,” Riggy said with a laugh now. She drew my chin up. “Don’t just make the mistake I made.”

  “Mistake? The Oga caught your Madam with another man. He had already seen them, and he still asked you. What should you have done?”

  “Not tell the truth?” Joy replied, fiddling with the watch.

  “Joy, aren’t you the one talking about change?” I asked.

  Riggy frowned. “What are you two talking about, what change?”

  Joy closed the book in her lap. It was a really big novel with a handsome white man with long hair and a tiny woman with even longer hair on the cover. I made a grab for the book, and she snatched it back. “You can’t read, you don’t need it. What were we saying? Let’s see. If you went back home right now and saw your Madam with another man, what would you do?”

  “She won’t do a thing--”

  “Yeah, yeah, she’s a fucking saint,” Joy sneered. “But hypothetically—”

  I raised my chin, shoving down my embarrassment. “What does that mean?”

  “Assuming, it hasn’t happened,” Joy explained, it—”

  “It probably won’t ever happen,” Riggy added, “but imagine it happens.”

  I blew out a breath. “OK, I will be disappointed at first,” Joy rolled her eyes at this but I continued, “But it’s not my place to say anything. Mind your business, remember?”

  “OK, so you go about your duties and your Oga comes in and Madam is still with the man. What do you do?”

  “You warn Madam,” I said. “That’s the rule. Madam first.”

  Joy nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. “What if you aren’t there in the kitchen when he enters and goes up, sees for himself and comes down without saying a word. Then he asks you.”

  “I will still lie for Madam,” I reply slowly.

  She gave me a triumphant grin. “So, now he knows you’re loyal to the Madam and not to him and he becomes angry. Now he wants you to leave. Madam comes down having been caught red-handed and meets Oga shouting at you. Her first thought would be--”

  “I betrayed her when I didn’t.”

  “So you have two people who doesn’t want you.”

  Stricken, I caught Riggy’s hand. “That’s what happened? I thought you betrayed your Madam.”

 
She scoffed. “As if, but that’s in the past now.”

  I swallowed hard, feeling out of sorts, like the ground had shifted under me. I wanted to scream. Why wasn’t this explained to me? Why did they let me go on believing what I did? I pushed the thoughts away and forced my mind to the present. I took a deep breath and out. I smiled at Riggy, and Joy hissed.