Love Patterns

by Michael B. Malone

  He looked pensive. “She will not forget you. If she must, she will crawl all the way to your country to be with you.”

  I nodded, I didn’t know what to say.

  On our way back to the hotel I saw Jerie fingering a stone about the size of a matchbox. She showed it to me. It was a brilliant blue rock with veins of white.

  She explained. “It was Mama’s life stone, Baba gave it to me.”

  “What is special about it?”

  She gave a secret smile. “It has been handed down since old times. Mama used it to make magic. Baba said Mama told him to give it to me when I was old enough.” I raised my eyebrows.

  We had a special dinner that night. When we got to our room Jerie was in a strange mood. She rubbed her cheek against mine then took my face between her hands “Bill?”

  “Yes Jerie.”

  She gazed into my eyes. “You have to learn who I really am, not just who you …” She hesitated, “imagine I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I will teach you.”

  She switched the light out, so the bedroom was dim, and we sat on the floor. She told me to hold my hands in front of me then slowly bring them together.

  “Watch them, not with your eyes but with your feelings.”

  I stared at my hands but didn’t see anything.

  “No! not like that. You look out of the side of your eyes, so what is inside can see out.”

  I tried again. “I can’t see anything.”

  “You are so impatient. You will not do it today or next week, it might be months.”

  “What has this got to do with me knowing you?”

  “It is the start. One day you will see me as I see you.”

  She made me promise to try the exercise every night. We packed her case and haversack and we went to bed. She cuddled close to me as if trying to stoke up on body contact until we met again.

  We drove to the school and were met by Miss Robertson. I unloaded the luggage and the bicycle and Jerie was taken away to be shown her room. I settled the fees. Jerie returned and we were left alone to say our goodbyes.

  She threw herself into my arms crying. “I love you Bill,” her face pressed against my chest.

  I hugged her close, my eyes misty. “I love you Jerie. I promise I will write. Be good and make me proud of you.”

  She was now openly crying. “I will Bill, I will.”

  She pressed something into my hand. “Hold this when you think of me and I will feel you.” I looked down.

  She’d given me her mother’s life stone, “But Jerie …”

  She put her hand over my mouth. “I don’t need it.”

  I left her standing on the steps, waving to me. As I drove out the gate with a last wave, I felt as if I’d left part of myself behind. I phoned Kathleen to say I would be back on Tuesday.

  She sounded glad. “How’s the book?” she asked.

  “I didn’t get a lot done.”

  “You sound different,” she said.

  I took my courage in both hands. “Kathleen?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m thinking of adopting a little black girl.”

  Her voice broke a long silence. “How little?”

  “She’s thirteen, she’s my house boy’s sister, she’s very bright.”

  “Have you thought this through?”

  “Yes dear, she was living rough in a shanty town and living on scraps. I’ve paid for her to go to a boarding school.”

  “Can we talk about it when you get home?”

  “Okay dear.”

  “I love you William.”

  “Me too, see you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” I put down the phone. “What have I got myself into?” I muttered. I went back to the hotel had a few drinks with dinner and went to bed.

  Chapter 11

  I felt Kathleen’s nervousness as I led the way through Nairobi airport, past the hordes of importuning youngsters, and as we climbed into the taxi and closed the doors, I heard her heave a sigh of relief. After dinner at the hotel we went to bed early to be fresh to collect Jerie the next day.

  Before I fell asleep I went over the last ten weeks in my mind. Kathleen had been waiting for me at the station when I’d returned from Nairobi. I just had time to drop my luggage before she rushed into my arms.

  When she’d stood back to look at my face she remarked. “You’ve changed.”

  “In what way?”

  She looked puzzled. “As if you’ve grown.”

  “Not so shallow, arrogant and fuddy-duddy?”

  “If you say so dear,” she smiled and put her arm through mine as I carried the luggage to the car.

  After giving Kathleen an edited version of my relationship with Jerie she’d become enthusiastic, and had agreed to visit Jerie in October when their vacations coincided. She enclosed her own letters when I wrote to her. I was relieved that Jerie had taken my advice and made no reference to being engaged, in her letters, and had been circumspect about describing our previous adventures. I remembered my first letter from Jerie. Her writing and her English had vastly improved, and I felt her excitement and happiness when she described her lessons and the school. She could use her bicycle at the weekends on the quiet roads around the school if she went with groups of girls. She described the friends she’d made. She was allowed phone calls on a Sunday evening and asked me to phone her, then asked if I was still practising my psychic exercises and if the life stone was helping. She hadn’t said she was missing me, but finished with an “I love you.” I started on a letter back to her immediately. I phoned Jerie’s school the next Sunday. Miss Robertson had answered and sent for Jerie. While I waited she told me that Jerie had settled in very well, was very bright and had made lots of friends.

  “Here she is,” she told me.

  I heard a few clicks then fast breathing, then Jerie’s voice sounding distant. “Hello?”

  It dawned on me that this was probably the first time she had used a telephone. I had a vision of her holding it at arms-length.

  “Hold the phone closer to you Jerie,” I suggested.

  “Sorry Bill.”

  I loved the way she said my name. “How are you Pet?”

  “I like it here Bill. I am very happy.”

  “I’ll come and collect you for your school holidays in October.” I didn’t mention that I was bringing Kathleen, I would put that in the letter.

  “Are you practising with the life stone?” she asked.

  “Yes, every night.”

  “What do you see?”

  I thought for a moment. I had begun to see strange shapes/entities for just an instant and had a vague memory that I’d seen them before. I’d thought about them and concluded that our brains filtered them from our consciousness. Perhaps like a child pulling the blankets over its face; if we didn’t see them they couldn’t affect us?

  “Strange things, some scare me,” I replied.

  She surprised me by replying, “That is good, but try not to be afraid of some of these …” She paused and used a word I didn’t know, “can feed on your afraidness.”

  “You will be fourteen soon, a big girl”

  “Big enough for you to love me?”

  “JERIE!” I heard a giggle and realised that she was teasing me. “You are a naughty girl, talking to an old man like that.”

  She sounded indignant. “You are not, old and I love you.” I felt my spirits rise.

  ‘That’s what you were angling for,’ I scolded myself.

  “Is there anything you need?”

  “Just you Bill.” I heard just the start of a giggle, then it was cut off. She’s learning fast, I thought, she must have put her hand over the mouthpiece. “

  I’m writing a letter now and I’ll try to phone again soon.”

  “Bye Bill.”

  “Bye Jerie.” The phone was put down with a clatter.

  I’d continued with the psychic exercises Jerie had taught me and had
begun to see the patterns around certain people without the aid of Jerie’s stone, although I didn’t know what they meant. I found some people’s patterns were a lot easier to see than others, but didn’t know why. My thoughts returned to the present. I wondered if Kathleen would take to Jerie. To have a young girl to care for might help Kathleen come to terms with the death of our baby daughter. The next morning after breakfast we set off for the boarding school. We stopped outside the main office where we were met by Miss Robertson. I introduced Kathleen. The headmistress was fulsome in her praise, describing Jerie as a model pupil, hard working and intelligent and relating well to the rest of the girls.

  When Jerie arrived she shyly shook Kathleen’s hand, then impulsively burst out.

  “You are a beautiful lady.”

  I smiled at Kathleen’s reaction. I collected Jerie’s luggage.

  “Shall I take my bike?” Jerie asked, eyeing the taxi. My eyes widened at the use of the ‘shall.’

  “No! we will be travelling around. We are going to see a bit more of your country.”

  With Jerie and Kathleen installed in the back seat, having a low-voiced conversation while I was ignored, we arrived back at the hotel.

  At the hotel, Kathleen assigned the middle single bed to Jerie then helped her unpack. After lunch, we hired a horse drawn carriage to tour Nairobi and Kathleen was wide eyed at the sheer vibrancy of the colours of people’s clothes, the brightly painted cars and buses, the masses of flowering bushes in the parks and gardens, and the sheer strangeness of Africa.

  I pointed out to them, the now dilapidated, residence where my family had stayed when I was a boy, and told them of my memories of Nairobi and Kenya and the people I’d known. As I talked I remembered more; like the horse races, where settlers from all over Kenya congregated, some having travelled by horse drawn cart for days, to renew friendships, to argue with politicians, and to exchange gossip and news. At dinner Jerie told Kathleen about her life in the camp and me buying a shamba for her father. I woke in the morning to find my arms around Jerie. I sat up to find Kathleen staring at me and jumped out of bed to dress. Jerie woke and I saw Kathleen’s eyes widen at Jerie’s nakedness and her stare become a glare. She kept silent until Jerie was in the bathroom.

  “I don’t believe you William! Sleeping with a naked girl, and in the bed next to me!”

  I groaned inwardly and expostulated. “She must have come in during the night. Things are different here Kathleen, nudity is commonplace and nothing to get excited about.”

  “But she’s only fourteen William.”

  Just then Jerie came out of the bathroom so we limited our conversation to neutral topics. During breakfast Jerie chatted to us both but I felt uncomfortable under Kathleen’s cool stare. I was glad I’d made an appointment with Mr. Bacchu for that morning and left early. Jerie was going to take Kathleen around the local market while I was gone.

  At the lawyers I finalised Jerie’s adoption and was given advice about getting Jerie a passport. To postpone going back to Kathleen I visited the high commissioner’s office and collected the forms necessary for the passport application, then reluctantly made my way back to the hotel where, to my surprise, I found Kathleen had got over her huff. During a cheery dinner they told me what they had bought at the market, then later back in our room I was the single onlooker at a fashion parade, where the two models cavorted and showed off their purchases.

  The next morning, I woke to find Jerie in Kathleen’s bed with their arms around each other. I crept quietly into the bathroom to wash and shave. When I came out they were awake and when a naked Jerie went to the bathroom, Kathleen wrapped her arms around me and murmured, “I’m sorry William, I misunderstood”

  “Did Jerie say something to you?” I asked, puzzled.

  Kathleen looked secretive, “Just woman talk.”

  After breakfast, I set off to hire a car, leaving the women to pack. I drove to Mombasa where we stayed for three nights. Jerie alternated between us, sleeping with me or Kathleen as the notion took her. We explored the town and the surrounding countryside and visited Malindi several times, where Kathleen discarded her inhibitions and bathed naked with us on deserted beaches. Later, on the way back to Nairobi, we stopped to explore the Tsavo National Park and I let Jerie guide us and explain to Kathleen all the things she’d learned on our last visit. After stopping to photograph Kilimanjaro with its permanent wreath of clouds we returned to Nairobi.

  We rested in our hotel for a couple of days then visited Kaninu on his farm. Kathleen seemed quite at home sitting on a cushion on the earth floor conversing with Kaninu and his wife, with Jerie interpreting, while drinking tea out of a chipped enamel mug. I felt immensely proud of her.

  Jerie went with her father to look around the farm, their arms around each other and when she came back she was smiling.

  The next day we went shopping for Jerie’s next term at school and I hung back while they discussed women topics. The next day we drove Jerie back to school with her luggage and I stood far enough away to let her, and Kathleen have a private female talk. When it was my turn to get a hug, Jerie whispered in my ear.

  “I love her Bill, look after her,” then giving me a radiant smile she waved as we drove off.

  “I think you’ve done a marvellous thing William, I love her,” Kathleen smiled at me.

  I didn’t reply but forced a smile, remembering why I’d come to Kenya, and I’d ‘bought’ Jerie because I’d liked her little firm breasts. I felt ashamed and guilty. Kathleen declared it was the best holiday she’d ever had. When we returned to Scotland she set to work immediately arranging photographs and recording her experiences for her class of ten-year olds. I put the finishing touches to my Kenya novel then sent it off to my publishers.

  From Jerie’s diary

  “I forgot what Bill said and crept into his bed without my nightdress. It was so good to feel his arms around me. I love him so much. When we woke up Kathleen was sitting up looking at us. When I was in the bathroom I heard her giving Bill a telling off. I saw from her colours that she was suspicious, so when Bill went to the lawyers I told her I couldn’t use a tampon and asked her to help me. I don’t think she wanted to, but she said “Yes” so I took my pants off and sat on the bed. She seemed surprised when she saw my sex and told me that some girls couldn’t use tampons and that I should continue to use towels. Her colours were clear, so I don’t think she was suspicious any more. Very early the next morning I took my nightdress off and crept into her bed and cuddled in. She started to push me away, but then she stopped and rubbed my hair and then her arms went around me and she held me so tight I could hardly breathe, but she didn’t stroke my bum like Bill does. I felt her crying and her face was wet. The next day I saw the dark patch inside her was a little bit different.

  Chapter 12

  Girls we love for what they are; young men for what they promise to be.

  Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

  Katherine went back to school and I felt at a loose end. I was tired of writing so I busied myself in the garden and with odd jobs around the house and spent a lot of time on the psychic exercises. I put my name on the supply register to stand in for teachers who were ill or absent and got a call from the headmaster of my old school, to say that a teacher had taken ill and asked if I could help. I was glad to accept as I was between novels and I was bored moping round the house. I enjoyed being back in the classroom again and renewing friendships among the teachers. In my higher math’s class my eyes were drawn to Heather Flynn, a very pretty sixteen-year old girl with a flaming mass of red hair. I also noticed a tall dark-haired youth who kept glancing at her, but flushed with embarrassment when she returned his look. When the class were working quietly I examined their patterns and was surprised at the number of lines and colours connecting them. I felt an inner urge to interfere, so I waited my chance and when Heather’s usual seatmate was absent, I looked over her work and remarked that she didn’t quite understand calculus.

&
nbsp; “Would you mind if I asked James Gillespie to help you?” I asked. I smiled.

  I could still remember the way she gazed into my eyes when she agreed. When James had taken the seat beside her and started a low-voiced explanation, I’d watched from the back of the class the flaring of their patterns whenever their fingers or hands touched

  The boys in the class had seemed unconcerned but the looks and secretive smiles from the girls in my direction, had made me feel good. They had continued to sit together and by the end of six weeks when the absent teacher returned, the gossip in the staff room was how the two were constantly holding hands and kissing outside the school gates. I met them occasionally as they lived not far from me.

  I got a call from my agent who intimated that my latest novel was my best yet and the critics loved it. I sent a signed copy to Miss Robertson as I had promised.

  I phoned Jerie on the Sunday after her birthday and told her I would collect her in two weeks’ time, at the start of her holidays. Kathleen would not be on holiday for another month, so I suggested she book a holiday for the two of us for when I returned.

  I traveled on the new Comet jet airliner and found the flight much quicker, and more relaxing. I met Jerie the next day. She was waiting for me near the steps and threw herself into my arms as soon as I got out of the taxi.

  “Happy birthday,” I congratulated her when I got my breath back.

  She gave me a sly look. “Am I old enough for you to love me yet?”

  “Jerie!” I scolded.

  She giggled as she helped me load her luggage into the taxi. We held each other close in bed that night after she had told me all she’d done in school during the term. The next day I hired a car and took her to a private airfield outside Nairobi.

  “This is part of your birthday present,” I told her.

  “Where?” she asked, looking around.

  “We are going on a tour in an aeroplane.”

  “An aeroplane?” she echoed, looking apprehensive.

  “An aeroplane,” I affirmed.

  We approached the hanger where a mechanic was checking over a six-seater monoplane standing outside.