by Julia North
“Yes,” I murmur, glad he’s given me an excuse. My shoulders sag and I stand there panting, fighting to keep back the tears.
“You’ll be okay,” he says putting his arm around my shoulders. “You’re a tough one. I know you’ll come through.”
My mind’s whirling and I don’t know what to do. I want to go to the mission to pay for my wrong but I don’t want to be with Bengu and Tula now. I can’t talk to them. I don’t want to even see them. I clench my fists and squeeze my eyes tight to push back angry tears. Where is Jesus? Why has he left already and let darkness come back?
“It’s okay, son,” whispers Dr. Zuma. “You can do it. God will give you strength.”
I look up at him. Why does God let me suffer? I want to ask but I cannot. He won’t understand. I give a small smile as he stands looking at me with sad eyes even though my heart is crying.
“Come sit with me in my office for a while, Modetse, until you feel better.”
I frown but walk next to him to his office. I try and push Tula from my mind. I’ve been stupid. I’m not an aid worker. I haven’t done lots of school and have money. I should’ve known I couldn’t have Tula. I must leave now and make my own life. I can’t stay here anymore but I don’t want the darkness back. I must pray to Jesus again and ask him to come back and help me to stay clean where I go. Maybe Dr. Zuma can help me with that before I go.
We walk into the cool of the office and he shows me to sit in the blue armchair.
“Here, it’s going to be a hot day,” he says, handing me a coke.
I take the bottle and have a big sip of the sweet drink. It gurgles down my throat. Inside I’m so tired. My whole body is heavy and I wish I could just sleep forever.
“Mama Zuma tells me she gave you some verses. Have you read them?”
I nod and look at the floor. My mind’s going round and round. I was so happy, so clean and now I’m full again with anger and hate. How could Jesus leave me so soon?
“It takes time, Modetse,” says Dr. Zuma, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and looking close at me. “Don’t worry if things don’t all happen at once; if your emotions go up and down. It’s a battle of your spirit. It will go back and forward. God and the devil are fighting over you. When people go to Jesus the devil tries hard to get them back. Just remember Jesus is the stronger one. Keep your eyes on him and he will win in the end.”
I look up with a frown. It’s as if he can see into my mind. As if he knew that I was clean and that now the dirt is trying to cover me again. I feel a shiver down my back. My body tingles as Dr. Zuma puts his hand on my head.
“Help Modetse,” he prays, “in the name of Jesus. Modetse, I pray peace upon you and strength. Protect him from the darkness in Jesus‘ name.”
A deep quiet falls onto the hut and I feel again the strong spirit of Jesus over me. My body shivers and tears prick behind my eyes. Jesus has not left me. He is fighting the darkness from my soul.
“Once Jesus has come he’ll never let you go,” says Dr. Zuma. “Always remember that.”
“Now,” he says sitting back in his chair. “Tula has told me that you have a young sister back in Kampala is that right?”
My heart races. “Yes,” I say. “I need to find her.”
Dr. Zuma leans back and puts his fingers together. “We have a charity which operates there and works with street children,” he says. “If you can give me details then I will see what we can do. I promise well do our best to find her and then we must discuss your future. The UN organization has a program which will help you to study further. Would you like that?”
I stare up at Dr. Zuma with wet eyes. He is such a good one this man. I try to say “Yes…” but the sob in my throat won’t let me so I just nod.
“Right. Now do you think you could draw a picture of your sister? How old is she?”
I frown as Thandi stands in my mind. “She was five years when I left,” I say. “I don’t know now. I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” says Dr. Zuma. “Just take your time. You were in the camp over two years, I think from what you and also Richard have said, and you’ve been here for nearly six months. She must be over seven I would think.”
I lift my eyebrows. That is hard to think she could be that old. “I hope she is still there,” I say. “I don’t know how she will have lived without me.”
Dr. Zuma goes silent. “I hope so too,” he says. “But whatever the outcome well make sure you’re okay, Modetse. You must keep going forward and I promise well give you all the help we can. I can see a bright future for you if you choose it. You’re very good with people you know. It’s helped Richard to have you here; my naughty daughter too is calmer with you here.”
I flinch at the sound of Tula but look up and ask, “Really?”
“Really,” says Dr. Zuma, and smiles. “Now, go well,” he says, and offers me his hand.
I take it and give him the double handshake. I walk back out into the hot sun feeling better inside. He has given me hope but maybe it is foolish. All this time I have always thought of finding Thandi but the time is so long. How will she still be there? Where did the years go?
Chapter 38
“You scared?”
I keep my eyes down and shrug my shoulders.
“I’m glad you’re coming,” says Tula. “It won’t be as bad as you think. They’re good people.”
“I’m fine,” I grunt. “Let’s just go!” I tense my body, clench my jaw and keep my eyes down. I don’t want to talk to her now that I know she likes Bengu.
“Tula, Modetse, the truck’s waiting.”
Dr. Zuma‘s smiles at me and walks over to take my hand. “Go well, Modetse. This will be a good cleansing for you. Be strong.”
“I’ll try, Doctor,” I say and shake his hand.
I follow Tula into the cab of the throbbing F20 ignoring Bengu who jumps into the driver’s seat. At least I’m not sitting next to him. I stare out through the side window so I don’t have to look at them. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a truck and the whirr of the engine brings back many memories. This is going to be a hard day and I’ll have to hold fast to my mind, but I must do it. I must give back for my wrong.
We bump over the dust road throwing up a red curtain behind us in thick silence. I see Tula look at me under her eyelashes. She thinks my mood’s from fear. I’m so angry with her. Why does she treat me like a friend if all she wants is Bengu? The thorn and acacia trees blur as we race past and I imagine beating his face in with my fists and then stop myself. No, I must not let the darkness win. I must not think of him. I must not lose the magic of the blood.
“The mission’s just around this bend,” says Tula, after we’ve been travelling about twenty minutes.
I stare out in front and see the square whitewashed buildings appear. I catch my breath. Tula pats my leg and I have to tense my arm not to hit her hand away. I look to the side and count ten round thatched huts sitting between shrub and acacia trees. Lots of people are standing around and I wish I could just run away. Bengu stops the truck and jumps out to push back the rusty iron gates. A high wire fence with a foot of barbed wire on top surrounds the property.
“You okay?” asks Tula.
I nod. My stomach’s tense and full of knots and my whole body’s prickly with fear. I can feel the beads of sweat on my forehead and wipe them away with my arm.
“Relax. It’ll be all right,” says Tula. She squeezes my hand and I pull it away and glare at Bengu as he jumps back in. Seconds later we roar through the gate and a small herd boy runs towards us to close it behind us.
“The doctor’s name here is Dr. Jabula,” says Tula. “He’s really nice and is grateful that we come to help. The more helpers they get to assist the nurses here the better. He’ll tell us what he needs us to do.”
Her voice and words sound false and I know she’s trying to keep me calm. I hold my face tense but my heart’s pounding so hard I fear Tula must be able to hear it. As w
e get nearer the buildings my breath grows shorter and sharper and more sweat breaks out across my forehead. I wipe it away with a hard swipe of my arm. I feel my cheeks grow hot.
“He was a soldier himself many years ago. He understands,” says Bengu.
I glare at him. What does he know?
“Most of them have been soldiers in Africa,” says Tula. “It’s really brave of you to come, Modetse.”
I give her a hard sideways look. What game’s she playing? She’s one of those who likes to have all the boys after her just because she’s pretty. She’s lucky she wasn’t a Pineapple girl. She knows nothing!
The truck grinds to a stop and the doctor comes over to us straightaway. He’s a big man with shiny black skin and kind brown eyes. He’s many scars on his face and I see a big one on his arm which looks like an old bullet wound and I feel better.
“Tula, Bengu, welcome,” he says with a big smile. “And who’s our new helper?”
“This’s Modetse,” says Tula with a smile.
“You’re very welcome, Modetse,” says Dr. Jabula, giving me a strong double handshake.
His words warm my heart and I grip his hand and murmur, “Good to meet you, sah.”
“Right, now I think if you guys bring in the supplies and then we separate them that can be the first job. We’ve some cooking to do and then well give the patients some lunch.”
“Have you got new prosthetics?” asks Tula as we start to unload the boxes from the truck.
“Yes, we’ve had a whole box of adult ones. We’re hoping to get some for the children by the end of the month. They’re harder to come by unfortunately, and of course need constant changing as they grow, but the ones who’ve already got them are doing really well. They never stop smiling.”
“That’s good,” I say, but my voice breaks and comes out gruff. The doctor turns and smiles at me.
“Yes it is. They’re quite content. You’ll be amazed at how easily humans adapt to things you know, Modetse. We teach here that you must just go forward and count your blessings. No point in brooding on what’s past.”
I nod and pick up one of the heavy cardboard boxes and follow the doctor into the cool dark interior of one of the white- washed buildings. The floors are painted green and the doctor takes out a set of keys to open a high steel gate to the storage room.
“We keep this locked so as to not tempt people,” he says. “We’ve a good amount of supplies but we still have to be careful with them. Times are hard and although we do grow as much as we can we’re still dependent on aid for many staples.”
I put the heavy box on the floor and we begin to tear open its sides. I take the tins of milk, packets of flour and sugar and tins of strawberry jam and put them on the shelf next to the tinned apples and pears where the doctor shows me. I’m glad there’re some sweet treats for them.
“Doctor, where do you want the medicines?” asks Bengu.
“If you’ll take them around to the surgery and give them to Nurse Rani that would be great Bengu.”
I’m glad Bengu’s not staying here with me. I don’t want to see the surgery and the people without hands. I’d rather hide here in the cool dark of the food house and help with the cooking.
I think Dr. Jabula knows this because he smiles and says, “Tula, you and Modetse can help to serve the stew first.”
“Okay. Come, Modetse.”
I keep my eyes down and follow her into the large back kitchen. Three women are standing in front of big gas hobs stirring huge black pots full of delicious smelling stew. The smell of the rich beef makes my mouth water.
“Hello, Tula,” says one of the women, turning around to smile at us. I bite my tongue so that I do not gasp as my eyes rest on her false arm. The plastic hand is holding the long wooden spoon and stirring the stew. I can’t look her in the eyes and keep mine to the floor. What if she knows me? Does she know I was L.R.A.? All of a sudden I want to run away. My whole body is wet with the sweat and my heart beats so hard I can hardly breathe. Tula takes my hand and pushes me towards the woman.
“This’s Mama Paida,” she says. “She’s the most wonderful cook in the whole world.”
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you,” says Mama Paida.
She’s a big woman with a wide bosom and fat hips. I look up into her round brown face. She gives me a big smile showing good white teeth and kind eyes. She doesn’t hate me. My breath sighs out and I fight to keep back the tears, which want to run out of my eyes.
“The stew’s nearly ready. We’ll take it out to feed all the hungry tummies. Tula, I think you and your friend will feed those in the East Hut. Patience and Stephen are helping in the West Hut.”
“Shall we take out the plates?” asks Tula.
“Good idea.”
We grab piles of white plastic plates and silver steel spoons and I follow Tula to a big hut with long wooden tables. We place the plates along the length of each side.
“They’re coming in now,” says Tula. “Once they’re seated we‘ll spoon the stew onto the plates.”
“Okay,” I mumble. People start to shuffle into the hut and I hold my breath. All of them are missing hands and one’s hopping on wooden crutches because he’s also missing a foot. White bandages with stains of red and brown are wrapped around their stumps. Bitter water floods my mouth and my stomach jerks.
Tula squeezes my hand and whispers, “Breathe through your nose, Modetse.”
I do as she says and I feel the water die down in my mouth. My whole body churns inside. I want to fall to my knees and beg them for forgiveness.
“Now, Modetse, you look after Sebo,” says Tula, sounding like a nurse. She gives me a smile and pushes me over to an old man in the corner.
He’s wizened with wise eyes, which watch me like the leopard. My body prickles as I take one of the big pots and walk over to him. The eyes follow my every movement as I place the silver steel spoon into the rich dark tomato and beef stew and put it on his plate. I try and spoon up as much meat as I can. I know men like meat. I swallow hard and bring the spoon up to his open mouth. It doesn’t feel right to feed an old man. The eyes stare hard at me but he grunts with satisfaction as he swallows the mouthful. He doesn’t talk and my hand starts to shake as I take another spoon to his open mouth. I tense my body to stop myself running away. I wish I hadn’t come.
“Thank you,” he murmurs as I scrape the last of the stew from the plate.
I bow in reply. I don’t trust myself to talk and walk away with a tight chest.
I look around and see that some in the room have false hands and are able to feed themselves. Tula’s feeding a lady at the far end of the long room with a big smile on her face. She’s got nothing to fear. I look to the other side and suddenly catch the eye of one man. His eyes are hard and full of hate and I feel my stomach jump. Does he remember me? He looks straight at me and I see him clench his jaw. He’s two plastic arms and looks like he’s one of the helpers. Maybe he does know me? Maybe it was me who took his hands? I start to shake. I can’t stay here. I’m going to be sick. I turn and run from the room onto the porch and sit down hard on the step with my head down between my knees taking in big gulps of air.
“Modetse.”
I turn to see Bengu standing there. I groan. This is too much! I put my head back down and clasp it with my arms. I feel his hand on my back and shrug him away.
“Leave me!”
“You’re doing well,” he says.
I lash out at him. “What do you know? Why don’t you just go get Tula? I’m not like you two. I can never have a girl like her.”
Bengu stands still and gazes deep into my eyes. “I know you like her, Modetse. She likes you too.”
I jerk my head up and demand, “What you mean?”
“What I said. She likes you.”
“No, she likes you,” I say, and spit on the ground. “You’re the city boy who has never cut off the hands and feet. I can never be like you.”
Bengu gives me a funny lo
ok and then smiles. “She’s my cousin.”
“What?”
“We’re cousins.”
I stare at him with my mouth opening and closing like the stupid fish. “Oh,” I say and then go quiet. I don’t know what else to say. Now I understand why they look like each other. I feel like a stupid.
“Can I sit?” asks Bengu.
I shuffle over to make room for him. “I’m sorry. I thought you were together.”
“It’s okay. I’m like her big brother. I just wanted to be sure you really liked her.”
“I do,” I mumble. “I really like her. I will be good to her if she likes me too.”
“Well, ask her later. I’ve a feeling she’ll say yes.” Bengu smiles.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and then the guilt takes over again. “I must help these people and not think of myself.”
Bengu nods. “You are. Just remember some people lose their souls too. It’s not your fault.”
I nod and say nothing but the memories fly back in my mind like the bees. I don’t know what to feel or think inside. How can it not be my fault? I laughed when I cut off the hands! I wanted to see the blood.
“Modetse, you okay?” asks Tula coming over to me with big eyes full of worry. I look up through half eyes. She must think I’m a fool and a coward. “I think the one man might know me,” I whisper. My voice croaks like the frog and I feel my cheeks grow hot.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did he say something?”
I shake my head. “He looked with hate.”
Tula nods and bites her lip. “You must just ignore some of them. We’ll need to help fit prosthetics now. Okay?”
“Yes, of course,” I say.
I don’t want her to think I’m weak. I must not be surprised that the people will hate me. It is good for them to do that. If I was them I would also hate. I must help so that I can give back. That is all I can do.
Chapter 39
I follow Tula across the dry red ground to the rectangular white painted building with the word Hospital written in black above the door. The windows are covered with mosquito netting and the veranda in front is painted with the grass green paint. It looks cool and clean. We go up the small clay step and walk through the wide wooden door. There’re many rows of black iron beds with little mounds of white in them. Silver poles with bags of blood and what looks like water stand next to each bed. I stop and my heart jumps to my mouth. The bodies here are small ones. I keep my eyes to the front so I don’t have to look too hard. I think if I see they’re missing hands I’ll be sick. I tense my body as a nurse in a white uniform turns from one of the beds and smiles at us.