‘What does he do?’ Sofia asked.
‘He doesn’t have a job,’ Lydia said, ‘but he’s trying to find something to do to make money.’
‘How is he going to be able to help us if he doesn’t work?’
Sofia couldn’t hide her sadness and anger. The joy of coming home had vanished. Life would only get harder with Isaias. How was she going to obey a man who showed that he didn’t like her?
‘I don’t think he should live here,’ Sofia said.
Lydia was angry.
‘Are you going to tell me what to do?’ she yelled. ‘I’ve found a new man, we already have a child together, and you are arguing with me!’
Then she started crying. Sofia regretted having spoken to Lydia that way. She couldn’t know what it had been like for Lydia to live so long without Hapakatanda. She decided maybe it was good after all that Isaias was going to live with them from now on.
But Isaias drank every day. On several occasions he hit Alfredo. Lydia seemed to shrink even more. But she let him be in charge. Sofia tried to force herself to believe it would be different one day.
Several weeks passed. One day Sofia had leant the crutches against the hut wall and was sweeping the yard. She was keeping her balance by leaning on the broom.
Suddenly somebody snatched it away. Sofia lost balance and fell.
It was Isaias who had grabbed the broom. Sofia noticed that he hadn’t been drinking, but he apparently thought he had done something funny, because he was laughing.
He threw the broom onto the ground beside her.
‘That gave you a surprise, didn’t it?’ he said.
Sofia didn’t reply. She took hold of the broom and got up. Then she continued to sweep.
That night she sat by the fire for a long time. She had decided to leave. She couldn’t stay. She felt sorry for Alfredo, but she couldn’t take him with her.
Where she would go, she didn’t know. In the end, she decided to return to the city. Maybe there would be someone there who could help her. If that didn’t work, she would have to do what so many others did – sit down on the street and beg. Whatever happened, it would be better than staying here.
She was going to leave early, at dawn. As she didn’t have any money, she would have to walk to the city. She didn’t know if she would make it. Maybe the straps that held her legs to her body would break? Then she would have no choice but to crawl.
Even so, she didn’t hesitate. She was going to the city. Doctor Raul was there. He would be able to help her.
She never went into the hut that night, but sat by the fire and watched it die. The night was warm and she snoozed against the wall of the hut. Then she went. She didn’t look back as she left the village.
It took her three days and nights to get back to the city. Most of the way she limped along on her crutches, but from time to time a car would stop and give her a lift for a few kilometres. Someone gave her a piece of bread. She drank water from pumps she found in the villages she passed.
On the second day, she discovered a crack in her left leg. That frightened her. She didn’t want to meet Doctor Raul without her legs. She tried to put as much weight as possible on her right leg. It gave her a cramp and she had to stop more often.
Sofia arrived in the city late one evening. She crawled under a rusty, dismantled truck to sleep and wait for dawn. By then she was so hungry that her stomach ached. Big rats scrabbled around her. Now and then she tried to hit them with one of her crutches. She had never experienced such a long night. It was as if the sun had decided never to rise above the horizon again. She remembered what Muazena had described as the worst of all disasters: to be left alone. To be the last person on earth. Was she that person? Sofia Alface, underneath a rusty truck on the outskirts of a large city, somewhere in Africa?
Dawn finally arrived. She crawled out from under the truck and continued towards the city. After several hours, she had made her way to the hospital. In the car park she found Doctor Raul’s car, with its bumper still hanging from a wire.
Sofia sat down against the car and waited.
That was where Doctor Raul found her at dusk, on his way home after a long day at the hospital.
*home-made liquor
CHAPTER TEN
DOCTOR RAUL’S WIFE was called Dolores. Although he loved her, and although they had four children together, he was also sometimes afraid of her. She could be very strict. He knew it irritated her that he was so absent-minded. He also suspected that she was sometimes annoyed because he said they couldn’t afford a new car.
This particular day, he was worried about what she would say when he brought Sofia home.
Sofia had been sitting asleep against the car when he came out. At first he’d thought she was one of the many street children who used to wash his car with their dirty rags, hoping he would give them some money. He’d already started digging through one of his pockets when he realised it was his former patient Sofia who was sitting beside one of the back wheels – the girl he’d driven home to the village outside Boane a short while ago.
He stopped with a frown, realising straight away that something was wrong. She must have heard him, or sensed he was there, because she opened her eyes. Doctor Raul did as he had done so many times before, when she’d been lying in her bed in the hospital. He crouched down in front of her.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked.
‘I couldn’t stay at home,’ Sofia answered.
Doctor Raul let her answer sink in. Why hadn’t she been able to stay? It sounded strange. African families never rejected anyone, no matter how poor they were, nor how distantly related the returning relative who claimed a place by the fire.
Finally he did the only thing he could do. He sat on the ground beside her and leant back against the car.
‘Tell me about it,’ he said. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Sofia’s words came out in jerks, as if she was forcing them out in great pain.
She told about Isaias, how he’d come out of the darkness and how he’d pulled the broom out of her hand so that she fell.
Doctor Raul listened and knew that what she was telling him was probably true. She could have been exaggerating, of course, as children often did. Especially poor children, whose only abundance was in the exaggeration of their despair. But it wasn’t the first time he had heard such a story. Sofia’s experience was common to an infinite number of children. One of the worst aspects of poverty and misery was that they forced people to do things against their will. Lydia no doubt needed a man to help her. But once the man was there, she had to obey him. And the men often didn’t want anything to do with the children a woman had from her previous marriage. That could be particularly true with a girl like Sofia, a girl who’d had her legs blown away and who depended on crutches.
As he listened, he gradually got a picture of what had happened.
Sofia had returned to the city because she couldn’t stay in the village with her mother. And the only person she had to turn to was the doctor who had healed her.
Sofia was still his patient, he thought. And he couldn’t leave her here on the street. That would pretty soon be the end of her. She would be bullied and chased, beaten and abused by other children and adults who lived on the streets. Her crutches would be stolen, and so would her legs. They would show up somewhere else in the city, at a market where someone would offer them for sale. She’d starve and fall ill – from scabies, from the cough, from malaria. One day, she’d be lying dead underneath a filthy cardboard box. No one would know who she was. She’d be buried in one of the large graves that were regularly dug on the outskirts of the churchyards, the graves for the poor, where bodies were thrown down, without a coffin, without a priest, without anything – as people throw rubbish into a bin outside their house in the morning.
He thought about his wife Dolores and wondered what she would say when he came home with Sofia.
But there wasn’t anything else he could do.
; ‘You must come home with me,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll decide.’
This time the car started without anyone having to push it.
Doctor Raul lived in a two-storey house. His home was on the ground floor. The house had a little garden. Hidden away behind some trees at the far end of the garden there was a shed where his night guard Sulemane lived. When Doctor Raul had problems, he would often talk to Sulemane about them. Sulemane was old and wise, though he wasn’t a very good night guard because he would lie beside the gate sleeping when he was supposed to be awake. Several times, Doctor Raul had had to wake him when he arrived home late in the car. Dolores was angry with him for not firing Sulemane and hiring a night guard who would at least stay awake. But Doctor Raul didn’t want to lose Sulemane – especially as he gave such good advice.
As they were driving home, he decided to talk to Sulemane about Sofia. Maybe he could advise what should be done.
Doctor Raul left Sofia sitting in the car while he went inside to tell Dolores he had brought one of his patients home with him.
‘She could have slept at the hospital,’ Dolores said. ‘Why did you have to bring her home?’
‘She needs a bath,’ Doctor Raul said. ‘She’s filthy. I don’t think you realise how far she’s hopped on those crutches.’
Dolores didn’t say anything else, so Doctor Raul went outside to fetch Sofia. When Dolores saw Sofia, her irritation faded immediately. The girl really was filthy. And she looked exhausted and miserable.
‘Poor child,’ she murmured. ‘Why does life have to be so hard?’ She gave Sofia some food. Doctor Raul’s children watched curiously. Sofia looked down self-consciously. The food was unfamiliar, but she was very hungry. She wasn’t used to eating with a spoon because she usually ate with her fingers, but she thought she had better do what the others were doing.
After the meal, Dolores ran her a bath. When Sofia went into the bathroom she was speechless. She’d never seen a bathroom before. It was bigger than the whole house in the village outside Boane. Shining and glossy, with running water, electric lighting, towels, scented soaps. She couldn’t see a fire anywhere but, even so, the water was hot. Dolores showed her what to do, then left her alone. Sofia undressed, unstrapped her legs and lifted herself over the edge of the bathtub into the hot water. Never before had she experienced anything so wonderful. She closed her eyes and thought about the ocean. The salt water hadn’t been this warm, but she imagined herself floating on the waves and she drifted gradually off to sleep. When Dolores peeked in, Sofia was asleep, her head leaning against the edge of the tub. Dolores looked at her. The leg- stumps showed clearly in the water. She shook her head, then carefully woke Sofia.
‘You were sleeping,’ she said. ‘Have a wash now, while the water is still warm.’
Afterwards, when Sofia had dried herself, put her legs back on and got dressed, Doctor Raul came to get her.
‘It’s time for you to sleep,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow we’ll talk about what you should do.’
‘I can’t stay at home,’ Sofia said again.
Doctor Raul nodded.
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Not now.’
Sofia lay in a bed in Doctor Raul’s office – a room full of books with a large table covered in documents and newspapers. Light from a streetlamp shone through the window. She could hear voices in the distance. It was Dolores and Doctor Raul talking to each other. It made her feel safe. Although she was alone in the room with the books, there were people close by. She closed her eyes and pushed aside all thoughts. She was soon asleep.
Dolores and Doctor Raul were drinking coffee and discussing what they could do for Sofia.
‘She has to go back home,’ Dolores said. ‘We can’t solve her problem.’
Doctor Raul knew his wife was right. But he also doubted Sofia would follow that advice. She had walked all the way from Boane, hobbling on her crutches in the unbearable heat, and she hadn’t given in. He realised that her inner strength – the strength that had initially helped her to survive, and that now showed its will in refusing to live with a stepfather who laughed when she fell – was greater than he had thought.
Doctor Raul put down the coffee mug.
‘I’m going out to talk to Sulemane,’ he said.
‘She can stay here for a couple of days,’ Dolores said. ‘But not longer.’
Sulemane was sitting by the gate mending his shoes. He was barely visible in the darkness. Doctor Raul had brought a garden chair with him, and he sat down. The night was warm. He told Sulemane about Sofia, while Sulemane sat calmly working. The soles had come loose and he was using a small hammer to knock in the tiny nails. Doctor Raul wondered how he managed to see anything at all in the darkness.
When Doctor Raul had finished his story, they sat in silence. The only sound was of Sulemane’s hammer. Doctor Raul knew Sulemane was thinking over what he’d said. He wouldn’t speak until he’d made up his mind.
An hour passed. Sulemane went on fixing his shoes. Doctor Raul waited.
When the shoes were finished, Sulemane spoke.
‘Sooner or later her mother will come for her,’ he said. ‘Until then, there is nothing we can do.’
‘How long until that happens?’
‘It may take a week. Or a month.’
‘But she can’t stay here that long.’
This was a new problem. Sulemane thought about it, and Doctor Raul waited.
‘She can stay with my sister Hermengarda,’ Sulemane finally said. ‘My sister has a house between the church and the vegetable market.’
Doctor Raul thought that was a good suggestion. The market was not too far away. If Sulemane said Sofia could stay with his sister, then that was that.
‘I’ll pay for her, of course,’ Doctor Raul said.
Sulemane didn’t answer. Doctor Raul knew that he was working out how much money he thought his sister should get. But Doctor Raul didn’t need to wait around for that answer. He’d get it the following morning. He returned to the house and told Dolores what Sulemane had said.
‘Maybe she will come and fetch her daughter,’ she answered. ‘Let’s hope Sulemane is right.’
‘He’s rarely wrong,’ Doctor Raul said.
They went to bed. Before he switched off the lights, Doctor Raul went to his office. Sofia’s head was dark against the white pillow. He stood for a while watching her sleep. Then he crept off to his own bed.
‘A remarkable girl,’ Dolores said.
‘No one who meets her forgets her,’ Doctor Raul said.
Sofia moved in with Sulemane’s sister Hermengarda. The house was small and many people lived there. As far as Hermengarda was concerned, it made no difference if another person joined the family. She was large and strong and sold live hens at the market. Every morning, Sofia was woken at dawn by a raucous cackling outside the house. It was Hermengarda discussing prices with the buyers. Sofia shared her bed with a girl called Louisa. There was no bathroom in Hermengarda’s house, but Sofia felt more at home there than at Doctor Raul’s. She helped to clean and tidy up and look after the youngest children. But she didn’t forget that she needed to think about the future. She was only living at Hermengarda’s temporarily. Sofia secretly hoped that Lydia would soon turn up outside Hermengarda’s house and tell her that Isaias had gone and that she could come home. But she was also angry with Lydia, as well. She felt as if she had been traded for a mean man who would never be of any use to her. She worried about Alfredo, who was all on his own.
If only I had Maria to talk to, she thought. The only thing I’ve got now is the fire in Hermengarda’s fireplace. I need Muazena’s help.
When Sofia first moved in, Hermengarda asked whether there was anything Sofia liked to do.
‘To sew,’ Sofia immediately replied.
Hermengarda nodded.
‘That’s good,’ she answered. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
The next day, Hermengarda woke Sofia early in the morning, even be
fore the man with the cackling hens had arrived.
‘Get dressed,’ she said. ‘Hurry up. I have a good friend with a small sewing studio. She’s promised to let you show her what you can do. If she thinks you’re capable, you can work there. You won’t get paid, but you’ll be trained. That’s more important than money.’
Sofia strapped on her legs and dressed as quickly as she could. Hermengarda, who always had lots to do, was already waiting impatiently on the street. When Sofia was ready they hurried off. Hermengarda walked so fast that Sofia almost had to run on her crutches. But it wasn’t far. Before long, Hermengarda stopped outside a tumbledown house hidden in an overgrown garden. The drainpipes had fallen off and there were cracks in the concrete stairs. The door was open and Hermengarda shouted for someone called Fatima. A woman, just as black and just as big as Hermengarda, came out onto the steps.
‘Here I am with Sofia,’ Hermengarda said. ‘I don’t have time to stay.’
Then she turned to Sofia.
‘You’ll find your way back home again this afternoon, won’t you?’
Sofia was sure she would be able to manage that. Hermengarda disappeared and Sofia was alone with Fatima, who stood on the steps squinting at her from behind a pair of glasses.
‘Come closer so I can have a look at you,’ she said.
Sofia hopped carefully towards Fatima. When she came to the stairs Fatima turned around, beckoning to Sofia to follow her inside. Sofia heaved herself up the steps on her crutches.
When she entered the house, it was like stepping into a completely different world. The whole house was filled with birds. Cages hung everywhere: big, small, square, round, cages made of wood, of grass, of fabric. Everywhere there was a chirping and screeching of colourful birds. Sofia stood stunned on the doorsill. There were even birds flying around in the room.
A glittering silver pigeon alighted on her shoulder and started pulling at her hair. Fatima had disappeared into an adjacent room, but came back to see where Sofia had got to.
Secrets in the Fire Page 9