Stones of Nairobi

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Stones of Nairobi Page 3

by Vered Ehsani


  “Hello, Wanjiru,” Yao called out. “You are a sunbeam, a fire dancing across the savannah, a—”

  “Bah,” Jonas grunted from the driver’s bench. As the Hardinge driver was otherwise occupied, he’d been pressed into service, and he wasn’t pleased with either the task or all his passengers.

  “Yes, enough of the poetry,” I added. “Can we depart? They will reach the jail before we even leave, at this rate.”

  “Patience, Bee. Wanjiru has a few errands, as do I,” Lilly said, handing a couple of empty woven baskets to me. “And since you’re already traveling into town, we might as well join you.”

  “Goodness, this isn’t a shopping excursion,” I muttered as I tossed the baskets into a corner.

  “We might as well make it one,” Lilly said. “At least some of us should be allowed to enjoy the day.”

  It was so quintessentially Lilly of old that I could not suppress my laugh. Tiberius assisted the two women, taking particular care to settle his wife on a large pillow rather than the uncomfortable benches. The two oxen set out at a reasonable speed, the wagon’s contents and passengers jostling about as the two large wooden wheels rattled over the rough path. A mixed herd of zebra and gazelle observed our passage with only mild interest, their ears and tails flicking at the cloud of flies that hovered around relentlessly. Farther afield, elephants, giraffes and acacia trees dotted the landscape.

  Viewing the manner in which I clenched and unclenched the hand gripping my fully loaded walking stick, Tiberius reached over and patted my knee. “It isn’t as if they can deport Mr. Timmons today or even this week,” he reassured me.

  Nodding, I wondered which tool in my stick would best serve to break my husband out of jail. Despite knowing that Mr. Timmons was safe in the Chief Constable’s care, I still felt the urgency of the matter, as if at any moment I would lose him forever to the machinations of Miss Baxter.

  Lilly leaned against my shoulder and gripped my human hand. Squeezing it, she said, “It will all work out somehow, Bee. Lord Hardinge and Tiberius will ensure it. Don’t despair.”

  Forcing a smile, I nodded yet couldn’t believe her assurances. I remained silent throughout the ride, only half listening to the conversation between Yao and Wanjiru. Yao did most of the talking. Occasionally, Wanjiru would murmur a response which only enflamed Yao’s enthusiasm and verbosity.

  As we approached the town, a vaguely familiar figure crossed the path ahead.

  “Is that Nameless?” I asked even as whoever it was entered a cluster of trees. I lost sight of the person that had reminded me of the dwarf as we entered Victoria Street.

  Lilly shuddered. “If it is, I do hope he isn’t planning on abducting us again. That was a thoroughly loathsome affair.”

  “And you weren’t stuffed in a bottle,” Gideon said as he appeared across from me and next to Tiberius. “Horrid little beast. I’d rather hoped he drowned along with that zeppelin of his.”

  “Humans can be so deliciously vicious,” Yao commented, grinning delightedly, his elongated canines clearly visible. “Yao likes them. What’s he doing?”

  He pointed at a large man slouched against the front wall of the Colonial Stores. His shirt was unbuttoned down the front, exposing his chest from which thick tufts of dark hair were visible.

  Not wishing to stare at the strange and unseemly spectacle, I pretended to read the store’s sign above the entrance while studying the man. “Is he combing his chest hair?”

  “And with a fork, no less,” Gideon said and laughed.

  “I do hope he doesn’t use that fork for eating,” I said, my lips pursed as I looked away, searching ahead for the Chief Constable’s wagon. There were only a few goats wandering the street while pedestrians meandered amongst the stores, kiosks and offices.

  “Oh, Bee,” Lilly said, giggling at my disgust. “That’s Charlie the Nell. He’s harmless enough.”

  I sniffed, my sensitive nose twitching. “I doubt the same can be said regarding his body odor.”

  Laughing, Lilly shook her head, her dark, perfectly coifed curls bouncing about her pale face. “Well, this is our stop then,” she said as we reached Rossenrode MacJohn & Co, the main general store. If they didn’t stock an item, chances were that no one else did. “Good luck, Bee. It will all turn out just fine.”

  She waited for Tiberius to descend the wagon and assist her down. Wanjiru followed after a demure wave and smile at Yao. The Adze watched the two women enter the general store, a sloppy grin plastered across his face. His happiness only increased my agitation; To think that this morning, I’d experienced the joy of having my love by my side. And now…

  “Please, make haste,” I breathed out.

  Jonas glanced at me, his countenance sympathetic to my emotional plight. Sitting by my side, Tiberius took my hand in his for a moment. Even Gideon made an effort to comfort me, although I couldn’t feel his hand on my shoulder. Only Yao was oblivious to my distress.

  The jail was located within the constables’ offices and quarters, close to the other end of Victoria Street. Within minutes, we rolled up to the front entrance with few people around to witness my distress and my family’s humiliation. Tiberius escorted me up the few wooden steps and held the door for me. Yao, Jonas and Gideon trailed behind us.

  Chief Constable Dougal was sitting in the front office, clearly expecting our arrival. He waved at Jonas and Yao, indicating that they should wait outside. Jonas displayed the expression he often used when in public with colonialists: one that was empty of comprehension and emotion. It no longer fooled me, for I could detect the flicker of irritation in his eyes. Yao merely smiled and waved back.

  After ensuring the departure of the natives while conveniently ignoring Tiberius’ obvious African ancestry, Chief Constable Dougal wordlessly led us along a corridor toward the back of the building and opened a door.

  “The cell’s in here,” he said, pointing at whatever lay on the other side of the doorway.

  For a fleeting moment, I experienced what Mrs. Steward claimed to experience: a breakdown of nerves as I paused at the threshold of the jail cell.

  “This here is no place for a lady,” the Chief Constable continued, his gruff voice not unkind as he perceived my hesitation.

  Tiberius placed a steadying hand against my back. “I can see to the matter and report to you,” he offered, his gentle voice imparting calm assurance and compassion. He was so like our father that I yearned to run to the Hardinge estate and throw myself into Father’s arms.

  Inhaling deeply, I said, “No, I must see him for myself. I must understand this matter.”

  So saying, I entered. As I did so, a firefly alighted on my shoulder and whispered, “Yao is here, Miss Knight. Do not fear.”

  I didn’t respond, for we were standing in a small space of stone, dank with the sweaty scent of misery that had seeped into every surface. Air and light were admitted through a small window facing the cell. A set of bars separated us from Mr. Timmons.

  “Oh, Simon,” I whispered as I reached through the bars and grabbed his hands.

  He leaned as close to me as he could and forced a smile even as the strain of the situation was clear in every line of his face. “Don’t fuss, Beatrice.”

  “Don’t fuss!” I repeated and pulled back to stare at him in amazement. “They are planning on deporting you to face trial in London. How can I not fuss?”

  Before he could respond, Tiberius stepped close to us. “It is no small matter, Mr. Timmons, for this woman seems to have powerful connections and an implacable grudge against you. Lord Hardinge will of course do whatever he can, although Miss Baxter refuses to enter negotiations.”

  Glancing about, he lowered his voice. “But in the meantime, we can easily break you free from this place. These walls were only designed for mere humans.”

  “And we are not humans, mere or otherwise,” Yao declared from my shoulder.

  As I was about to commend the plan, Mr. Timmons shook his head. “And then?
I shall be a fugitive of the law. And what of Beatrice? Shall she spend her days running with me from place to place, or hiding in the wild lands of the continent? Or stay here alone and always under the suspicious scrutiny of the law? No, this cannot be. Quite frankly, I’m more concerned about Mrs. Timmons.”

  “Me?” I said.

  “Is there any other Mrs. Timmons?” he asked, his lips quirking into a smile.

  “I should hope not,” I scoffed. “At any rate, I’m not the one sitting in a jail cell.”

  Mr. Timmons chuckled. “But you are the one with an uncanny ability to attract danger merely by breathing.”

  Frowning, I asked, “Do you wish me to cease breathing then?”

  Yao fluttered up to my ear. “Keep breathing, Miss Knight,” he said in his silky voice. “You are too much fun to die.”

  Tiberius snorted and lit up a cigarette.

  “Case in point,” Mr. Timmons said and pointed to the firefly floating by my head. “You have a vampire perched next to your neck. Who else but you would allow such a thing?”

  “Yao isn’t a thing,” the Adze protested.

  “Enough of the distractions. Who is she, Simon?” I asked, stepping back from the bars. “This Miss Baxter.” My lips twisted in a sneer. “Why would she do this? How could you possibly have wronged her?”

  Mr. Timmons shifted his weight, his eyelids flickering before he said, “Her father was a business partner of mine, and there was a souring of relations between us.”

  Even before I squinted at him, I suspected he was withholding critical information.

  “Are you squinting at me?” Mr. Timmons demanded, outraged.

  “Are you lying to me?” I retorted with as much heat.

  “Yao would never lie to his beloved,” Yao castigated Mr. Timmons.

  “This should be interesting,” Tiberius murmured in an exhale of smoke.

  “Stop your squinting.” Mr. Timmons breathed out heavily before acknowledging my point. “You’re right. Once upon a time, Miss Baxter was my fiancée.”

  “Ah,” Tiberius said and withdrew slightly to stare out the small, barred window opposite the cell.

  “That would explain the grudge,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Mr. Timmons sighed. “Not entirely. We departed under unusual and unfortunate circumstances. I tried to explain to her what I was. She wouldn’t believe me, so I provided a demonstration by imitating her features. But I lost control and hurt her before I could regain my senses. I left for Mombasa shortly thereafter.”

  Mr. Timmons could barely meet my astonished gaze and when he did, his countenance was a picture of mortification and dejection. Any bitterness I might have held evaporated before his pain.

  “While I’d have preferred to learn of these matters under more agreeable circumstances,” I said as I relaxed my fisted hands, “I can’t hold them against you. It’s in your past. We’ll find a way to defeat her objections. Surely she has no basis for a case against you.”

  A set of little wings buzzed on my shoulder. “Yao can solve this problem. No Miss Baxter, no jail.”

  “Absolutely not,” Mr. Timmons said while Tiberius murmured a similar sentiment.

  Yao clucked his disapproval. I remained silent as I didn’t trust my voice not to reveal how tempting the offer was.

  “She might have a case. I wrote her a letter apologizing for my behavior and the attack on her person,” Mr. Timmons admitted. “It was as I was boarding the ship. Being in an emotional state, I yearned to unburden my soul.”

  “Unburden your soul? That’s what priests are for,” I hissed as I folded my arms over my chest. “Does she still have this letter?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mr. Timmons said as he leaned his forehead against the bars, his hands gripping the metal as if he wouldn’t have the power to remain upright without their support. “She might but she hasn’t said. It’s the only evidence of what transpired between us.”

  In silence we digested this revelation. After a moment, Yao whispered loudly, “Yao can help.”

  This time, Mr. Timmons and Tiberius were slower to refuse the offer.

  “Perhaps you could assist us,” I said as I ruminated on a plan.

  “Beatrice,” Tiberius hissed.

  Yao buzzed around my head, cheering. “Yum, yum!”

  “Not like that, Yao,” I chastised him. “We need to find that letter.”

  Chapter Six

  “A LETTER,” YAO muttered as he slumped next to me on the wagon while we waited outside the general store. “Yao offers to solve the Miss Baxter problem, and you want a letter.” He straightened up and glowered at me. “Yao is not a letterman.”

  “Postman,” I said. “You’re not a postman.”

  “That also,” he said, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. He turned his uncharacteristically annoyed expression toward Gideon. “We tried to rescue her other husband. Where were you?”

  Gideon smirked as he stood before us, only his torso and head visible above the wagon floor. “I was floating around.”

  “Gideon, do stop floating through solid objects,” I objected. “It’s most disconcerting. Normally when only half a body is visible, it isn’t in any state to talk.”

  “Better?” he asked as he extracted his form from the wood.

  “I’m much obliged,” I said as I fiddled with my sunhat. “Remind me to ask Lilly for one of her fans. It’s become unbearable again, what with the humidity and all.”

  “He’ll be okay, Bee,” Gideon said, his entire countenance beaming with tender reassurance and concern.

  “Of course he will,” I snapped, ignoring Yao’s disapproving clucking and Gideon’s dismay.

  Before I could recover enough equanimity to apologize, Lilly sauntered out of the store, a pleased expression gracing her features, followed by Tiberius, Wanjiru and Jonas, all of whom were carrying boxes and parcels.

  “Is there anything remaining for others?” I asked as they loaded the wagon.

  Lilly shrugged. “A bit of this and that, I’m sure. What’s the news then?” She sat beside me and linked her arm through mine. “What did he do?”

  “What makes you assume he did anything at all?” I asked, although I didn’t feel strongly outraged at the presumption.

  “We are discussing Mr. Timmons, are we not?” Lilly said as she patted my hand, not in the least bit ruffled by my irritation. “He’s sure to have committed some travesty to incur the wrath of that woman. Out with it, or I shall have to bore you with detailed descriptions of all the items I purchased for the baby.”

  “Perish the thought,” I said with a shudder and, thus adequately motivated, I explained what had transpired.

  “That is a pickle indeed,” she said. “What say you, Tiberius? Can’t you fly down and frighten that horrid woman into giving up the letter?”

  Her willingness to propose such an option cheered me to great lengths and caused me to forgive her for her previous transgression. Tiberius was less impressed.

  “My dear,” he said as the wagon lurched forward. “I can’t very well go around terrorizing the populace.”

  “Why ever not?” Gideon demanded.

  “Yao is happy to do it,” Yao said, his gaze fixed in adoration upon Wanjiru, his naked chest puffed out as he attempted to secure her attention.

  “As delightful a notion as it is, it might cause unfortunate repercussions,” I admitted. “We have enough trouble with the trainloads of lion hunters tripping over each other. Imagine if news leaked out that a giant bat was lurking in the area?”

  “I don’t lurk,” Tiberius said, his lips stiff as he spoke.

  “Of course you don’t, my darling,” Lilly purred. “You’re magnificent. Beatrice is not herself today. Or rather she is perfectly herself but doesn’t have Mr. Timmons to soothe her caustic temper.”

  The words and looks of affection between Lilly and Tiberius, and between Yao and Wanjiru, were bordering on nauseating. I excused myself and clambered up to the front bench
to sit with Jonas. Gideon joined me there.

  “I saw him,” Gideon said to me.

  “Whom did you see?” I asked, not particularly caring but willing to allow myself to be distracted.

  “That horrid dwarf.”

  Gasping, I turned to Gideon. “You saw Nameless?” Realizing that anyone outside of the wagon would see me talking to nothing and therefore assume I was delusional, I faced forward. “Did you really?” I said while trying not to move my lips too much.

  “Ghosts. Bah,” Jonas muttered beside me. Unable to see Gideon, he nonetheless understood with whom I was speaking.

  “Yes, I did,” Gideon answered. “What is he doing here? And alive?”

  “Indeed,” I said. “The nerve. He should be dead. How terribly inconvenient that he isn’t. After all, dying was the politest course of action remaining to him.”

  “I wonder if he found that jar,” Gideon whispered and began chewing on his lower lip.

  The dwarf’s jar was able to suck any form of energy, including ghosts, into itself and trap it there while slowly digesting the entity. Gideon had firsthand experience with the gruesome device. Fortunately, the jar had been lost at sea when the zeppelin had crashed with all of us onboard. It was nothing short of a miracle that Lilly and I were still alive.

  “Let’s hope he hasn’t found it,” I murmured.

  Before we could continue hypothesizing on Nameless’ plans, assuming it was him, a zebra trotted up to the side of the wagon.

  “Miss Knight, I am being so happy to meet you under fortunate circumstances,” the zebra’s rider called out.

  “It is indeed fortunate,” I replied, returning Dr. Ribeiro’s goateed smile with one of my own. “After all, we aren’t being chased by zombies or brain-eating Kerit.”

  “So sad,” Yao said.

  “Yes, yes,” Dr. Ribeiro said, lifting his felt hat slightly in greeting. Despite the heat and humidity, he was attired in a three-piece suit. “And we are all happy to be keeping our brains. Speaking of which, I am wondering if now is a good time for checking up the baby?”

  Realizing the conversation involved her, Lilly spoke from behind me, “That really isn’t necessary.”

 

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