Crooks and Straights

by Masha du Toit

  “Why don’t you cut that cake for us so long,” said Saraswati as she looked around the little attic room for a place to hang the dress. “I’ll get you a cover for it, to keep it safe.”

  She joined Gia on the bed and accepted her half of the little cake.

  “Mind if I switch the light off again?” she said. “It’s so peaceful up here in the dark.”

  She leaned against the window frame as she ate, looking down at the stream of late-night traffic on the freeway below.

  Gia finished her piece of cake, and after brushing the crumbs off the sheets, crawled back under her blanket and lay there, looking at the lines of light and shadow on her mother’s face.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you tell me my birthday story again?”

  Saraswati looked at her. “You’ve not asked for that story for years.”

  Gia snuggled into her pillow and looked expectantly at her mother.

  “It was many years ago,” Saraswati said after a long pause. “I was only eighteen. Only a little older than you are now, Gia, when I married your father. And at that time, we’d been told that we could never have a baby. And we both wanted a child so badly. I dreamed of you, Gia, did I tell you that?”

  “Yes,” said Gia sleepily.

  “I dreamed that I found an egg, just lying by itself on a riverbank. And the egg rocked and rocked, but it was clear that the little chick inside could not come out. So I helped— I remember being terrified of doing the wrong thing, and hurting the little baby inside the egg.

  “But at last the shell cracked, and there was the baby. And then I woke, of course. It was at that time that your parents told us that they could not keep you. You were just two days old, and the smallest baby I’d ever seen. Your mother was devastated, and so was your father, but they had to go somewhere far away, where it was dangerous to take little babies.”

  Gia stirred. She knew that her parents had died in a car accident, and that this was just Saraswati’s poetic way of working that horrible event into the story suitable for a small child. But somehow, it sounded different to her now.

  She felt too sleepy to work it out. “Did this happen in Italy, Mom? I only figured out recently that you must have been in Italy when you got me.”

  Saraswati nodded. “That’s right. Anyway, your mother and father could no longer look after you, and they asked me and Karel to take you. They said that they were giving you to us, forever and ever.”

  Saraswati sighed a deep sigh. “It was a terrible time, and a wonderful time. Terrible, because I loved your parents. They were our friends, and I was sad to lose them. And wonderful, because you became ours.”

  Gia had heard this story many times over the years. When she was little, she’d just accepted it, as she accepted all the strange and confusing things that happened in stories. Now, she had questions— but she did not want to interrupt her mother’s gentle voice to break the calm mood.

  “I remember the very first time I held you in my arms. Your eyes were so big! And you were you already, even then, Gia. I was a silly girl, and I thought babies were— I don’t know. Like eggs, all blank and clean. But you were already Gia, looking out at the big world and deciding what you thought of it.”

  Saraswati leaned forward and stroked Gia’s hair. “And now here you are, my big girl. Old enough to have her own going-out dress.” She sighed again.

  “I remember when I was still longing for my first party dress. I used to watch my sisters get ready to go out, and I couldn’t wait to be old enough to put up my hair and wear a beautiful long dress and pretty shoes…”

  Gia held her breath, wondering if her mother would go on. She’d never spoken about her family before. Carefully, hoping she would not break she spell, she said, “Were you the youngest, then?”

  Saraswati nodded. She was staring into the dark, but Gia did not think she saw the shadowed attic room. “That’s right. I was the seventh. Seven sisters…”

  There was a long silence, and at last she seemed to come back to herself.

  “We never saw your parents again, Gia. I don’t know if they're still alive. But I promised your father that I would take care of you and keep you safe, and I promised your mother that I would tell you all the time, that she loved you very much, and that her love would always, always be with you.”

  Gia closed her eyes. She always felt so strange when Saraswati told this story. Happy, and sad, lost and comforted, all at the same time. Softly, Saraswati started to sing the song that she always sang after Gia’s birthday story.

  It was a strange song, in a language Gia did not understand. The melody made unexpected lifts and twirls.

  When the song was finished, Gia woke enough to ask another question.

  “Mom, those words. Do you know what they mean?”

  Saraswati was silent long enough for Gia to open her eyes, but she spoke at last.

  “I can translate it for you, I think. But I don’t think the English words will rhyme. Let me see.”

  After a pause, she spoke again.

  “Winter is coming

  So we will spread our wings

  You and me, my love,

  You and me

  And we’ll ride the wind

  Over the sea to summer.”

  Gia felt for her mother’s hand and found it, and allowed herself to slip down into sleep. She could feel the bond between her mother and herself. She could almost see it, fine silver threads, delicate but strong as steel, binding them one to the other. The image became clearer, and there were more threads, an intricate network that joined her mother to them all— to her, and to Nico, and to her father.

  And as she drifted deeper into sleep, she wondered if her mother ever longed to free herself, to cast off that silver web that wrapped so tightly around and around her.

  Saris and Cigarettes

  Gia was coming out of the school gates when she saw her father waving from his car. She said goodbye to Sonella, and ran over.

  “Get in, sweetheart,” he said. “Had a good day? Listen, get in, we’re running late.”

  “Where are we going?”

  She got in, and her father pushed his way into the after-school traffic.

  “The Pillays want another meeting. Nothing’s ready to show them yet, but Mrs Pillay is getting antsy already. Don’t worry, it’s just showing her the drawings and reassuring her that it's all on track. She particularly asked for you. Apparently you made quite a hit with her and Kavitha.”

  Her father grinned at her. “We’re doing the cloak and dagger thing again, meeting the chauffeur in a mall parking lot. But we were supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”

  “Sorry— I was chatting with Sonella. I didn’t know.”

  “No problem. It’s not far. Did you like your present? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you opened it. Your mother says it fits like a glove.”

  “It does. It’s beautiful, thanks Dad.”

  “I picked out the fabric, but your mother did most of the work. Here we are.”

  He swung into the parking lot, a different one than the previous meeting, and Gia could see that the long black car was already there, waiting for them.

  It was the same driver behind the wheel, and although he did not say a word, Gia thought he seemed disappointed to be picking up her father, and not Saraswati.

  Once again, they went round the back and entered via the kitchen.

  This time, Mrs Pillay met them in a small cream-and-gold sitting room filled with ferns and antique furniture. Kavitha was there too, wearing a moss-green sari. She looked just as beautiful as before, her hair bound back in a simple plait, and two coral-pink eardrops that matched her perfect lipstick.

  Gia sat on the edge of her chair.

  Mrs Pillay and Karel were soon deep in conversation, with Karel showing the drawings and explaining the various stages that the garments would go through. There did not seem to be anything for Gia to do.

  A touch on
her arm drew her attention. It was Kavitha, glancing significantly toward the door.

  “Where are you going, my dear?” said Mrs Pillay without looking up.

  “I thought Gia would like to see the gardens, Mother,” said Kavitha.

  “Very well. But don’t be too long.” Mrs Pillay looked up and frowned at her daughter. “And please be careful not to set off any alarms while you are out there. Let the gardeners know where you want to go.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  But the place Kavitha took her was no garden.

  It was a small courtyard that, as far as Gia could guess, backed onto a kitchen. One wall was covered in silver ducting, and there was a strong smell of cooked food.

  “Only place they don’t put smoke alarms,” said Kavitha.

  She took a box of cigarettes and a lighter from the folds of her sari.

  “Want one? No?” She lit the cigarette and drew deeply at it, holding it between thumb and forefinger. “Aah,” she breathed, allowing the smoke to curl slowly through her lips. “Wow. I needed that. Listen.”

  She shot a sharp look at Gia. “I like you. And I like your mom. Your dad looks okay too. So I thought I’d warn you.”

  She took another drag of the cigarette, so hard that Gia could hear it sizzling. Then she let out two streams of smoke from her nostrils, looking, Gia thought, like an unusually pretty dragon.

  “Your work on the dresses. It’s coming along okay? No delays?”

  Gia nodded. “It’s going really fast, actually.”

  “That’s great. And none of you have— let slip anything?” She stared at Gia.

  “You mean, have we told anyone that we’re doing your dress? No!”

  Kavitha laid a hand on Gia’s arm. “No offence. Just getting information.”

  She took a last drag at the cigarette, then stubbed it out and put the extinguished butt back into the cigarette box. “The servants tell on me when they find butts,” she said, seeing Gia’s puzzled look. “Thing is, I don’t know how much you know about Luxulo. But he’s a total control freak. If any of the wedding plans get out, or if anything runs late, he’s going to be looking for somebody to blame. And Luxulo— well.” Kavitha twisted her lips. “Let’s just say you don’t want to get on his bad side. I’ve seen him destroy people for smaller things than messing with his wedding plans.”

  She tucked the cigarette box back under her sari. “People like me, we look out for number one. If we help somebody, it’s because they have pull.”

  She looked at Gia. “You don’t know what I mean, do you? That’s why I’m warning you. I like you. You don’t play the game. You’re for real, you and your parents. I’ve seen it too many times now, little people like you with no connections; you just get ground underfoot when Luxulo starts stomping around. You know what his nickname is?”

  Gia shook her head.

  “uBhuldhoza. That’s what they call him. He never loses his cool, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do damage.”

  She gave a little laugh at Gia’s expression. “I know what you’re thinking. This is the man I’m about to marry, right? What do the newspapers call it, the ‘fairy-tale wedding’. Well, I can tell you, Luxulo’s no fairy-tale prince.”

  “But don’t you want to marry him? They can’t force you?”

  Kavitha lost her smile, and looked down at her hands. For a moment Gia felt that she was being allowed a glimpse behind the mask of hard words and pretty make-up.

  “No, nobody’s forcing me,” said Kavitha. “I’m going into this with my eyes wide open, don’t worry.”

  “You don’t, um, you don’t love him, then?” asked Gia, and then blushed, and wondered at her own daring. But Kavitha took the question in her stride.

  “Love? No. Thank God for that. Imagine if I loved him.” She shuddered. “No. But it’s sweet of you to care. Which is why I’m warning you now. Watch your back. I’m sorry, I know this is not much help, but I thought that I could at least warn you, so you know what you are getting into. Don’t give Luxulo any excuse to go after you. Just keep everything on track and on time and you should be fine.”

  “Thanks,” said Gia, seriously. “I will tell my parents.”

  “You do that,” said Kavitha. “And now we better get back before Mother starts sending out servants to look for us.”

  -oOo-

  When they were back in their own car again, Gia told her father of Kavitha’s warning.

  He blew out a breath. “Well. That’s something.”

  For a while he drove without speaking.

  “It’s not as if I’ve not heard the rumours. But it’s something to hear it confirmed. Can’t say I’m surprised though. Luxulo Langa did not get to where he is by being Mr Nice Guy.” He hooted at a taxi that was blocking the lane ahead. “After all, he’s going places these days. He’s at the head of that new bunch of fanatics in Parliament. The Purists. And I’ve heard people are making him out to be the next big man after his father steps down as president.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  Her father looked over at her.

  “Not really, sweetheart, nothing that we’re not doing already. But don’t you go worrying about it. As long as we stay on time with the work, I can’t see how he can have a problem.” He laughed. “Seems you got on the right side of his future wife. That must count for something.”

  -oOo-

  Gia realised something was wrong as soon as they got home.

  Mandy met them at the door wearing her worried face, and her mother’s voice came from the living room, talking a little too loudly. Saraswati stood hunched over the phone, looking at some sheets of paper.

  “But it only arrived today, and the date— yes. I understand that, but—”

  Karel went up to give her a kiss but she turned her face away.

  “All I’m asking— No. All I’m asking is if there is a way to reschedule this appointment.”

  Karel looked at Mandy. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  But before Mandy could answer, Saraswati waved a silencing hand at them, and cradled the phone closer.

  “I’m sorry? I missed— oh. I see.”

  After a moment, she slowly put the phone back in its cradle, and stood staring down at it.

  “Sweetheart,” said Karel. “Something wrong?”

  Saraswati stood abruptly back from the phone and shoved the pages at him. “There. That’s what’s wrong. This came just now.”

  Gia tried to see, but all she could make out was that it was some kind of official-looking document. Karel frowned and turned to the second page. “But that’s crazy. Why on earth—?”

  Gia was thoroughly nervous by now. “What is it, Dad?”

  He stared at her, then looked back down at the letter.

  “It’s from Special Branch. They want you and Nico for some kind of test. ‘Deep testing at the Valkenberg Annex.’”

  Gia felt her stomach lurch.

  Valkenberg.

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I do,” snapped Saraswati. “And you do too, Karel, but you just don’t want to see it. They’re testing for magical potential. That’s how it starts. Next, they’ll come painting red letters on our door— ”

  “Saraswati, this is South Africa, not Italy,” said Karel. “Let’s not instantly jump to the worst possible—”

  “Karel, I’m not going to wait until they—”

  Karel spread his hands in a calming gesture. “Right. Okay. Let’s just back up a bit here.” He looked at the letter again. “The testing is supposed to happen—”

  “Tomorrow morning!”

  “Right.”

  “That doesn’t give us any time!”

  “Sweetheart, can I just read this thing through?”

  Gia went and stood next to Mandy, who gave her a quick hug. They both stood watching Saraswati pace as Karel read carefully through the letter.

  “Right,” he said at last. “I’m guessing you tried to ge
t the test postponed?”

  “I tried,” said Saraswati. She sat on the sofa, almost as if her knees gave way.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any way to get it extended. It has to be tomorrow. And the horrible woman even hinted that as I’m not a citizen, they could take the children away.”

  Gia felt another surge of fear. But her father stayed quite calm.

  “That’s just them trying to scare you, Saraswati,” he said. “They could never do that. Now, let’s look at this in a logical way.”

  “Can I see the letter?” said Gia. Her parents looked at her, and Gia realised that they’d forgotten she was there.

  “Can I see it?” she asked again.

  Karel held it out to her.

  “Is this because of the sniffer visit?” she asked as she took it.

  Saraswati nodded. “That’s the only explanation,” she said, and Gia was glad to hear her sounding much calmer. “It would be just too much of a coincidence, otherwise.”

  Gia sat on the arm of the sofa, and read through the letter. Most of it was printed, but there were gaps where somebody had written in her and Nico’s names, and the date that the test would be.

  Deep testing at the Valkenberg Annex.

  Once again, the name sent a chill through her.

  She read through it to the block of fine print at the end, half her attention with her parents, who were talking again.

  “I could take the children somewhere until all this blows over,” Saraswati was saying. “There must be somewhere we can go.”

  “Sari, we can’t do that. Apart from the fact that we simply don’t have the money, what about the business? You can’t just—”

  “Oh, bedamned be the business, Karel! Is it always about the business? You don’t have to do anything. I can go— ”

  Saraswati was on her feet again, and Karel put out a placating hand.

  “I can’t do it all by myself, Sari,” he said. “If you go, it will all fall apart.”

  There was a moment’s silence as Karel and Saraswati stared at one another.

  “And Sari, there’s something else,” said her father, still in his calm-and-reasonable voice. “When we were with the Pillays just now, Kavitha specially took Gia aside to— you tell her, Gia.”