Black Mischief

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Black Mischief Page 4

by Carl Hancock

‘Alex, you’re talking in riddles here.’ For the first time since he had known her, there was tetchiness in her voice. For a few moments she was the wife of the big man in the country and she wanted straight answers, now!

  ‘Well, in the end you’ll have to wait to find out at home. But … but when he left here, he was his old self-assured self. And he and Reuben were good pals, in harmony.’

  She narrowed her eyes into a frown. ‘Hmm, that’s a bit of a puzzle. Those two don’t always get along. “Harmony”, that’s a mighty word.’

  Without warning this new abrasiveness in Sally melted away. She shook her head and chuckled to herself. She patted her stomach. ‘Julius, my boy, we’ll need to talk about this later.’

  The children came out of the kitchen carrying glasses of soda and tea plates that could barely contain the huge slices of chocolate cake that Angela had just cut for them. Her children were happy and Sally’s good humour was fully restored. She called out to Angela who was still in the kitchen. ‘I hope you’ve got a slice or two of this gorgeous cake left! There’s a boy in here says he needs some pretty quick!’

  Chapter Six

  ally arrived home just before sunset. All the cars were in, but Abel was nowhere to be seen. Reuben was watching a sports program on the plasma. That was a surprise to his mother.

  ‘Son, what’s going on? First the McCalls tell me that you and your daddy were in harmony down at their place and now you’re watching little people chasing after a ball on the television. Am I missing something? What did they give you to drink after we left?’

  The boy was smiling and eager to explain about his father.

  ‘Never seen him smile so much at one time. Like he just got some big worry off his back. Told me some stories about the old days in the village. He was laughing and joking.

  ‘Then, as we were coming up the Escarpment, he made this one phone call and now there are twelve men sitting around the table in his conference room. Just snaps his fingers and they all come running. He must have some big hold over them!’

  Reuben did not explain to his mother about his sudden, new interest in football. In fact, there was still no interest, in any sport. Watching the television was just another attempt to shut out certain troublesome thoughts from his mind. Rebecca Kamau. When he saw her standing on the McCall veranda, it needed a big effort to stop staring at her. In the months since the night in the Muthaiga, he had relived the scene of her coming towards where he was hidden thousands of times. The slow movement of those lovely thighs, the frightened expression in her dark eyes. In his fantasies he had touched her cool flesh, smelt the perfume of her, possessed her willing body, moaned at the overwhelming thrill of their coming together. He had resolved that one day there would be a real coming together. Some day it would happen, even if it cost him his life. But, for now, he must keep his fantasies well hidden.

  Alex and Reuben had given Sally an accurate but partial picture of Abel’s state of mind. Neither of them could have been aware that a miraculous shift had taken place in his outlook on the world, and so very quickly.

  ‘It only took a few of your words, Mister Alex. Suddenly I could smell the release. Like a white witchdoctor you broke the spell and did not even understand what you had done.’

  ‘I believe part of you fears us.’

  ‘Yes, Bwana McCall, yes, yes! I see it. Fear, guilt, I must have been crazy! Asking forgiveness from you people. Sally, how could I let you persuade me to eat that crap? Well, it’s gone now. I don’t need your forgiveness, anybody’s forgiveness. No part of us fears you or anybody else. Can’t you see it in my eyes? I can breathe again.’

  ‘Julius, I should have pulled that trigger. I allowed fear to betray me. I cannot bring you back, but I will make it up to you. But we will bide our time. We will be patient. When the moment comes, we will be ready. We will talk about this.

  We’ll hit them when it will hurt most. I have come back to life. I will live for both of us.’

  * * *

  This was the first meeting of the Circle as the exclusive group was known around Nairobi since Abel and Sally had returned from England. They had been looking at possible boarding schools for thirteen year old David who was in his last year in the Banda School. Abel found two that he liked, but as with Reuben six years before, and against his better judgement, Sally won her battle to have the boys educated in Nairobi.

  Before Abel came in to join them, his colleagues had been in a subdued mood. Most of them had been at the engagement party, watched with horror as a wild-eyed Abel had pointed a gun at a big man carrying what looked like the corpse of a young white man. After that May night, meetings of the Circle had been few and at none of them had any real business been completed. There were rumours of nervous breakdowns and that Abel had taken to the bottle. They were fearful for their own positions. Abel was so dominant a force in the group that they accepted that he could remove any or all of them, replace them with a fresh batch of minions and carry on pulling the strings of government and most of the other institutions of the country. Money was the key and Abel was a magician at creating mountains of the stuff. Not one of them had been in his screen room where he was known to work long hours taking on financial wizards around the globe, usually making impressive profits. It was Abel’s version of the sporting life, to outwit marketing giants and yet remain a shadowy figure behind the scenes. He was a man who enjoyed surprises as long as he was the one who was creating them. He was about to spring another one.

  He strode into the room exuding energy, power and enthusiasm. His smile was confident and reassuring to his colleagues. Fitter and slimmer than they could remember, he was down to business before he had taken his place at the head of the table.

  ‘Gentlemen, good to be back. Just like old times, I feel. Now then, if there’s no objection, let’s get to the election.’

  There were murmurs of approval and even a short burst of applause. The feeling of relief around the table was palpable and the change of mood instantaneous. They may not have been in charge in the affairs of the country, but they were happy, and lucky, to be the backup crew to the main man. The spin-offs in terms of money and influence were considerable. They would still have the first and biggest slice of the millions and millions of shillings, dollars, euros floating around. They were grateful that their leader never took a single shilling of the aid money or the pickings of the other scams and schemes that brought spice to the financial life of their great country. Abel continued.

  ‘As you all realise, we must put an end to the reign of our beloved president, who has proved to have been an inspired choice to replace his much lamented predecessor. Joseph Oringa has obeyed our instructions to the letter and has, by the way, not been an expensive item on our balance sheet. Headmasters never are! I am pleased to announce that the elections for parliament and president will take place on the first Saturday of the new year. This will give us plenty of time to prepare our people in every district.’

  The cheers from Abel’s conference room were heard all ‘round the house. Sally, who was in the kitchen with her chef, organising supper, paused to listen. She had become an expert in judging moods from the noises that she heard coming out of that room. Silence was always ominous. This cheering was high on the scale and she was eager to see what kind of Abel would emerge from this meeting. The signs were promising. The family outing to Londiani must have been a success after all.

  Chapter Seven

  ally did not have long to wait to have her hope confirmed. Marcel, the French chef, had finished his work and she was alone in the kitchen. Through the open door, she saw Abel sauntering towards her whistling as he conducted an imaginary orchestra.

  ‘Sally, I didn’t hear you come in. Mmn, that is one very pleasant smell! I think we both deserve a hug.’

  Sally considered herself to be an expert on reading body language. What she saw stunned and thrilled her. The transformation in her husband was miraculous. Her response to his suggestion was to open her arms an
d issue an excited warning.

  ‘Husband, do not forget that you are hugging two people. Not too tight now. We don’t want to give the little one a nasty shock.’ She was a very happy lady. For the first time in many months Abel was giving her his complete attention. She sounded him out, hesitantly.

  ‘So it was a success, then?’

  ‘Sure. They all want me to stand for the big one.’

  ‘Abel, are we talking about the same thing?’

  ‘Why don’t we have supper in here, just the two of us? The kids …’

  ‘Have had their supper an hour ago. Not very hungry. You missed out on the chocolate cake.’

  ‘Remember those times in Wiaki Way? No kids. Not much money.’

  ‘When we always shared our secrets.’

  ‘Always told each other the truth. I’m glad you made me go up to the McCall place.’

  ‘Made you? Nobody makes Abel Rubai do anything.’

  ‘I learned more than I expected, ‘specially about this forgiveness stuff and about myself.’

  ‘At last, Abel. I knew it could happen. Those people in the meeting are so right. President Abel Rubai! Hey, that means we will get to meet the queen! All this and a new baby. If only our Julius could see this. Oh, forgive me, Abel. But I am so excited to have you back.’

  ‘Julius. See, I can say his name without it bringing on the dark thoughts, the bad temper. The pain is there, but the wound is healing. Anyway, what was that you said about …

  passing on? Our boy is not far away, just in the next room. I think I’m ready to buy that now.’

  To Abel, Sally was the dearest thing in the world. From the very first he had been protective of her. They had met when they were children. They began their working careers together with Neisland, Kapper and Reed, the most successful accountancy firm in the country. When the new president himself invited Abel to join his staff, they shared their new prosperity. At just about the same time Julius was born and things changed. Sally willingly became a full-time mother and wife. Abel was drawn along a new and private path. As financial adviser to the main man, Abel became a power in the land and soon the power. Always he kept his family and public lives separate. In Sally’s eyes, Abel continued to be the upright, enthusiastic idealist of their shared youth. But the dreamer had become the realist. It was safer for both of them that she was not invited into his new world. He had been more than ready to embrace the truth that to play a winning game often meant playing a dirty game. She would never have understood that.

  The death of Julius knocked him sideways for a time, but he recovered his poise. He came back to the fray more ruthless, more shameless. Get in his way at your peril. Yes, he had spoken the truth about his visit to Londiani. He had learned a lot. Sally believed him and for Abel her innocence, her trust were important. What need was there for her to be bothered about the cauldron of hot anger that burned deep in the hidden places of his being? When the time came, the McCalls would learn the truth the hardest possible way. They would never see it coming.

  ‘Sally, how would you like it if you had a son for an MP? Nakuru South is open this time.’

  ‘You mean Reuben?’

  ‘Yeah, we had a talk on the way home. You know, I don’t believe we ever got that close before.’

  ‘Can he win?’

  Abel was highly amused. ‘I think I can say that the people of the district will be falling over themselves to vote for the son of their president.’

  ‘But isn’t the McCall boy …’

  ‘Woman, he would be lucky to get a hundred votes, all from his white farmer friends, Europeans who stole good African soil to make their fortune.’

  Chapter Eight

  homas, I am afraid.’

  A day had passed since the visit to Londiani of the whole Rubai family. Tom McCall had returned to Big House after a morning in the fields. He had been grateful that it had been a busy time for him. Workers came to the young bwana with problems from the moment he had set foot in the farm office. The hours had passed quickly. One of the refrigerated trucks that transported the farm produce down to Jomo Kenyatta Airport needed a service and the foreman mechanic was off sick. In one of the flower tents a fight broke out. Two of his best young apprentices were rolling around on a patch of rich brown earth that was ready for replanting. There was some serious hitting going on and Tom had been forced to march the pair of them down to the lakeside for a stern chat. The hour he spent with those bright eighteen year olds had been the highlight of his morning.

  He was home early for lunch. He did not go straight in for a beer with his father on the veranda. Instead he went ‘round to the back of the house, intending to spend a few minutes in the laundry garden. It was a favourite place where, sitting on a warm, sunny bank of mown grass he had often watched Rebecca and Angela working at the washing troughs.

  On one of those days, when her mother had gone into the kitchen to help the memsahib to prepare lunch, a delicious thought ran through Rebecca’s mind.

  ‘Thomas, when we are married, you won’t mind if I want to help out with the laundry sometimes?’

  ‘As long as you don’t ask for special pay rates.’

  He had not expected her to be there that late morning. It was her day for helping out in Hippo House, the play school on the Buckles’ land just beyond the parkland of Sanctuary Farm. He heard her before he saw her. She was singing ‘Broken Hearted Mama’, a favourite blues song written by Tony Wajiru. Tom waited behind the screen of the cei-apple hedge until she had finished.

  ‘Thomas, I was just thinking about you and suddenly, how does your father say it? “Bob is your uncle.”’

  ‘So, thinking about me, you sing a sad song.’

  She hesitated before answering, absently squeezing the white piece of washing she held in her hands. ‘You know that is not true.’

  ‘But what happened about Hippo House? Are you feeling all right? Usually I can hardly drag you away.’

  There was another hesitation before she spoke, longer this time. ‘Thomas, I am afraid.’

  In a long silence they looked at one another across the sunlit garden until Tom said quietly, ‘Something that happened yesterday, isn’t it?’

  ‘I wish they did not come.’

  Tom smiled wryly and shook his head. ‘Big mistake.’

  ‘Sally wants good things. She loves her husband so much. She cannot see any fault in him. Their children loved it by the lake. When the hippos showed their faces above the water, they thought they had come ‘specially to say hello to them. They were happy and excited nearly all the way back. We were close to Big House when they heard their father shouting angrily. Straight away the fun went out of them.’

  ”Becca, there wasn’t a whole lot of fun stuff going on back here. Papa Rubai is a scary one, but the son and heir, I think he is crazy, bonkers, nuts, take your pick.’

  ‘Thomas,’ she looked down at her washing and sighed, ‘that one, Julius’s brother, he looks at me so strangely. It makes me shudder. I think he would like me to be dead. He blames me, I am sure of it.’

  Tom moved quickly to the washing trough. He put his arm around her shoulder and led her towards the path that took them to the top of the bank. No words were spoken until they were standing under their acacia and looking out over the big waters of the lake. The afternoon haze hung down from the sky like the finest gauze so that Old Longonot and Suswa had lost their sharp edge and taken on a vague, mysterious outline.

  ‘Thomas, how many times did we meet at this tree, when we were afraid to speak? Hiding here in the darkness, those nights seem so far away now. There was hope then and all our little dreams. Fear has come now. I thought the bad things were gone.’

  ‘There is a dawa for all this.’

  ‘Dawa for cleaning the mind?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘When we were in New York Monica and the other girls laughed about Freddie, Toni’s drummer. He was going to see, I think they called the person a shrunk. Monica said, “No wonde
r. Banging those drums every night has fried his brains.” So, was that a doctor of the mind?’

  ‘Well, sort of. I remember Freddie. We got on really well. He was missing Nyeri. That was his problem. Like I was missing this place when I was over there. New York was too noisy for him. “This crazy place is driving me nuts.”’

  ‘I do not think that there are any shrunks in Naivasha.’

  ‘Wrong!’

  ‘Thomas, you are laughing at me. This is serious. You know how it was with Julius and now …’

  ‘I’m not laughing. I’m telling you the truth. Lots of shrinks around this lake. Matter of fact we are going to see one this afternoon. Going on the Harley. Bertie’s getting her ready. Sometime after three.’

  ‘You say “shrinks”. When am I going to learn to speak proper English? Perhaps you will teach me.’

  ”Becca, There is not a single thing in the world that I could teach you.’

  * * *

  The washing on the lines was ballooning, puffed out by the warm breeze. Tom arrived early.

  ‘I have to gather in the clothes before we go and I want to change my …’

  ‘Rebecca, I’ve always wanted to help out here. Your mother would never let me. “No, Bwana, if the mehmsahib saw such a thing.” This is my chance.’

  ‘But I will be quicker on my own.’

  He compromised. She took the washing down, but he slowed her progress by following along the lines and, every few yards, grasping her around the waist.

  ‘Just checking you haven’t strained a muscle or something. All this stretching can be dangerous. And just one more kiss, to keep your spirits up.’

  They walked the couple of hundred metres over to Rusinga. On the way, they paused on a piece of raised ground where they watched builders pouring concrete into the foundations of what would be a large bungalow.

  ‘Won’t be long now. Mister Sawyer says in three months we can move in.’

  ‘Then we will start our garden, Thomas.’

 

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