B- Part 3 - Story

Part 1: B- Part 1
Part 2: B- Part 2

Kairo and I make every effort to nurse the children's exhaustion and weakness. After many days they look healthy and we start to talk and get to know each other. We learn to understand the other's disposition and friendships form. We cook, laugh and explore the village as a family.

Kairo and I watch Sadie, Heal, Buiy and Fah grow.

The school accepts Sadie and Heal and they start their studies. When they arrive home they tell us about their day. I listen attentively to their words, happy that they enjoy their school and other pupils.  Buiy and Fah enjoy the delights of the village also and play with the children during the day. The heat does not bother them so Kairo and I take turns to teach, sometimes we draw together or recite poetry. Buiy and Fah look forward to the arrival of their brother and sister, they show them their drawings or sing songs for them. When I sit outside, sometimes I hear Buiy's high and melodious voice float past. I let the tune encourage love within me. I send him good thoughts, thank God for his beautiful voice and sink gently into a doze.

In the evening, we gather our food and make dinner together. A knock is heard at the door, Heal opens the door, and Simta enters the room. Kairo asks Simta if he would like to join us for dinner, he accepts and we sit at the table together. Kairo shares the rice, taking care to give our guest the largest portion. I glance at Simta and think, 'Simta looks unhealthy and his skin is changing colour.' His deep brown skin is fading and a yellow cast glimmers in its place. Sadie talks to Heal about school, her eyes full of interest when Heal mentions some of the people in his class. Heal's hands move about in a deliberate manner, careful not to knock the dishes on the table. His face lights up with a smile when he recalls an event that has happened, though usually his features settle in a contemplative manner. Buiy and Fah eat quickly, proud of the food that lies before them. Buiy tells Simta about the dinner, he tells him that he is in charge of buying the best ingredients. Simta feigns admiration which encourages Buiy to talk more.

Once Kairo sits, Simta transfers his attention to him. Simta is a chemist. He talks about his shop, commenting on the need for it within the community and the satisfaction he receives each day, safe in the knowledge he helps everybody who enters. He tells everyone that Heal's teachers are keen to further the boy's talents. The teachers have conversed with Simta about Heal's ability, they are impressed by his intellect. Heal modestly averts his eyes and looks at his dinner. Simta asks him to look up, which he does, and Simta says, 'Do not be ashamed of your intelligence, Heal.' Heal shakes his head and says nothing. We carry on with our dinner and chat about the village and its life.

As soon as the children leave the table, Simta sips his tea and his expression changes. He explains to me and Kairo that he is in need of another assistant. 'Heal's talents in science and maths will be valuable in the shop. He could help with the accounts, give advice to those who buy medicine or have an ailment. The teachers agree that it would benefit him should he decide to study medicine.' Kairo and I look at one another and I say, 'Kairo and I need to discuss this with Heal.' Simta shakes his head, 'I understand. I know Heal is of a sensible disposition.' Simta mentions that he often catches Heal reading when the other children play and that he is able in the art of conversation with his elders. He adds that he will pay the boy a wage for his duties. Simta drinks his tea and says goodbye.

We sit together and talk about Heal. We both agree we will allow Heal to decide and that we will stand by his decision. Kairo puts his arm around my shoulder and I rest my head on his chest. We sit in silence. I am content to sit here and be with Kairo. I listen to his heartbeat, his breath gently caresses my wiry hair, his body warm against mine. I squeeze Kairo's arm in an affectionate manner and tell him that I love him. He embraces my shoulder in reply and I smile. I feel lucky to be alive and able to love my husband and the children. Kairo senses my thoughts and voices the doubt I do not wish to address, 'If only we weren't so old!' My smile fades. I know there is nothing we can do about time. Like the watch, we are only more evidence of its infallibility. 

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B- Part 2 - Story

Please read part 1: B- Part 1

After breakfast, Kairo takes the boys out to the village to collect a little food. I ask Sadie to sit by me and we start to talk. I wonder if my memory is failing, she looks smaller and much younger than last night. Sadie sits with her ankles and knees close together, her long thin arms settle on her knees. She tells me about her family. They are from P-, a town many kilometers away. Her mother, a woman famed for her beauty, suffered from a disease that took away her strength and left her lying in bed, unable to talk or move, waiting for death. There was no other family to help. Years ago, their father told them that he would be away for a while searching for work, but he never returned. Their only other living family was their father's sister who flatly refused to take the children into her small house in addition to her own family. The children had nobody and nothing.

She said that her mother was dying, she said that the people of P- talked of splitting the family apart. They believe that young children should have a stable home, so decided that the two youngest children, Buiy and Fah, should move out of town and live with a rich merchant and his wife who had no children. The people of P- were told that this couple had money, big rooms, even servants who could tame snakes and speak to birds. But, Sadie had heard that the wife was mean, that she would walk about town looking down on the poorer folk. She would step on the toes of beggars and then shout at them for their rudeness. Sadie knew that her brothers would be unhappy there, or worse, would become like the evil rich merchant. She felt that she had to do something.

The elders of the town would visit the dying woman at her bedside, reassuring her that her children would be safely cared for, but when Sadie was alone with her mother, her eyes would look sad. Orphans had no rights in P-, so the town did what they thought would be best, despite protests from Sadie and Heal.

Sadie had known she and her brothers could not stay. While the light was fading in her mother's eyes it grew boldly in Sadie's. For though she was only fifteen, she would sit by her mother and confidently assure her that her brothers would grow to be fine young men. It became a mantra for Sadie and a glimmer of hope for her mother until hope wasn't enough to sustain her strength and life decided to find another body to fill. Sadie saw life leave and float away. She kissed her mother, closed her eyes and called for her brothers. Sadie told them that they were going away, Heal understood but Buiy and Fah were too young to understand. They collected a few items, some clothes, a little food, money their mother kept under the bed and a scarf, which held traces of her smell.

Sadie closed the shutters but left the door open, certain that someone would visit and find their mother. They all knew the roads and paths surrounding P- and with heavy hearts,  found the safest and easiest exit.

Sadie tells me about their journey and how the days turned into weeks. By day they would move from town to village, begging for food and water. Sometimes the would find shelter, other times they would sleep under the stars. Buiy and Fah struggled to keep their strength. Sometimes Heal and Sadie would carry them, praying silently that God and their mother would protect them.

One early afternoon Sadie watched her brother under the shade of a large tree. With their energy gone, they lay down on the the dirt, closed their eyes and drifted into realms of safety, security and peace. She watched their faces relax under the caked dirt on their skin. Their clothes were in tatters, their feet red and swollen and stomachs empty. Sadie had tears in her eyes when she thought of their situation and of their mother dying, at last her resolved wavered. Once the tears formed, she wept silently and furiously. In the burning heat, the tears dried almost instantly. This increased Sadie's frustration as she was so tired. At last she too lay down and slept.

Sadie speaks, 'That afternoon I dreamt of my mother. We were by a river, she was on one side and I was on the other. I tried to get across the river but my mother just kept smiling and nodding her head. This sign was so familiar to me, I knew she was saying no, that she did not want me to cross the river. She pointed left, so I looked and saw a fire built beside the river. My brothers were sitting beside it, feeling the warmth of the flames. They saw me and took my hand, I turned my head and my eyes searched for my mother across the river but she had disappeared. Behind the the fire was a path, further along there was a forest. In this forest there were fruits, animals, plants and lots of trees, the noise was deafening but the pathway was strangely clear. A snake was hanging off one of the branches and as I walked forward its head jerked towards me and bit my forehead, just a nip. The snake looked right into my eyes and then settled itself on the branch. I could feel its eyes watching me as we walked on. I woke up, the heat did not seem too bad. My brothers were still asleep so I gently woke Heal and told him to wait while I explored the next village. He shook his head in agreement and drifted off to sleep.'

She continued, 'I got up, entered the village and heard music. Lots of people of many ages were banging on drums and singing. Some young girls were dancing in a circle, their arms floating in the air, joining hands above the shoulders and then by their waists. Their feet were involved in an intricate pattern that kept in time to the music. Suddenly, a woman dressed in red tiptoed up to the girls and they surrounded her, adjusting her headdress and whispering in her ear. The woman in red kept her eyes lowered at all times but she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. For a moment, I wanted to be that woman. Her hair was delicately woven with ribbon, her dress looked like it was made from the finest silk with tiny scenes of love embroidered at the hem of her skirt and her beauty overshadowed anyone who went near her. Her skin was smooth, her jewellery and smile gleamed and everyone cast approving glances at her. The smell of food drifted from the surrounding huts and made my stomach growl, it brought me back to reality.

'I walked up to the crowd and spoke to a woman near the musicians. I asked her what was happening and she said that a marriage would be taking place next weekend, today began the festivities. The daughter of the most respectable family in R- had come of age, the marriage between the couple was a love union which meant good fortune for both families.  I asked her how old the woman was and she told me that she and her husband-to-be were thirty, as is the custom of R- and its surrounding towns and villages. I asked if there was any food I could have for my brothers, she said nobody would go hungry that week. The family paid for the whole community to celebrate this joyful occasion. She said that we were welcome to stay in her barn while the festivities were taking place. I thanked this woman for her kindness and promised to return with my brothers.

'I ran back as quickly as I could. My brothers were awake sitting quietly under the tree like tiny Buddhas. We soon left, had our fill of food, talked to the locals and moved into the barn. For the whole week we slept, ate, laughed and washed, the boys looked healthier and I felt sure of my decision to leave P-. On the last night, I spoke to an old woman. I did not tell her too many details of our life but did ask her if she knew someone that could help us. She suggested you.' Sadie looks up at me and I feel a pang of pain within me.

Sadie says, 'You became my guiding light. B- was fifty kilometres further on and the sun seemed to become hotter and brighter the longer we travelled, burning the soil beneath our toes. The woman had told me that you were well known for helping foreigners and that you could help with accommodation, food and water. The afternoons got hotter and the nights, colder. We would huddle together to create some heat but it was no use. We walked faster and faster each day towards your home, hoping that you would help.'

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B- Part 1 - Story

Introduction

This is a story set in the mythical village of B-, set in an unknown country. This story is not intended to be a conventional dramatic story; the reader should not expect to turn the page with anticipation of a narrative pull. Rather, I would like the reader to focus on each moment. The use of formal prose and the present tense represents Tanga’s consciousness and reflects her Buddhist-like philosophy of mindfulness and loving-kindness. I hope you enjoy this!

……………………….

I see the children around him laugh, his face gets redder by the minute but time just keeps passing. I see him try to stop it; he jumps up and down, waves his arms about and clicks his fingers. “Magic,” he says. He looks at his watch after each performance but the hand still moves. After a while he throws the watch on the dusty floor, stands on it and walks off.

The children scrabble in pursuit of the damaged watch. I observe them play with the hands, a few pick up fragments of plastic – hoping to catch some of the magic that the man couldn’t stop. Soon they disperse, bored with the watch that broke, half conscious that it was only a mechanism and a servant to the eternal mysteries of this world.

I sit under the Banyan tree, the sun sinks slowly behind me, the heat finally becoming bearable. My tanned arms and legs betray my foreign status thought I have lived in B- longer than anywhere else I would call home. My skin is not dark brown, thought its native paleness has turned golden. In this town, being old is considered an honour, a respected position within the community. As a foreigner, I am considered unusual, alluring yet unknown. My mental and physical faculties have not failed and my love for this place is unwavering as it brought up my husband whom I adore. No ancestors were here before me and none shall make their home here for I have borne no children. The wrinkles on my face show the signs of the unbeatable magic. My white hair glows, even in the fading light. I am called Tanga, it means ‘blue eyes’ for they also betray my status, so different from the chocolate brown that flows from the blood of B-. Foreigners who enter this village are informed of me; the people here understand my love for this place and know I will share it with others.

I take time to appreciate my surroundings and feel peace within. My companion walks out of the building opposite me, he sees me sitting and smiles. I reach for my stick, pull myself up and walk towards him. His back is slightly rounded, his grey hair contrasts against his dark brown skin. We meet each other, take each other’s hand and smile lovingly. The peace from within travels from my heart, through my hands and into my husband’s body. We begin to walk deliberately through the maze of the village, down its dusty roads and setting sun.

The donkeys and cows move slowly whilst the street bustles around them. The rickshaws buzz dangerously close but the animals do not notice. The children chatter with delight and play, the older ones ride about on battered bikes weaving in and out of the rubbish and animals that get in the way. People of all ages take advantage of the dull heat, sit in the open air, keep an eye on the children and enjoy the beauty of the setting sun. The buildings around them reflect the traditions of the Old Raj, the while of their walls increasingly covered by red soil, their grandeur incongruous against the simple town.

Some of the folk call out greetings to us while we walk past, they press their hands together and bow, a sign of respect for us, the old couple that walk slowly down the street. Some young girls with wet hair sit out on the pavement together, letting the sun dry it naturally as it falls down onto their backs. One girl catches my eye, her long dark hair set in waves, cascading below her breasts, almost reaching her waist. Her eyes are so dark the pupils are hard to find. She glances up from her book, her gaze uncertain. Her skirt has ridden up her legs, revealing a little birthmark above her knee. She nods in our direction and we carry on.

We pass a few stalls that have opened after the siesta. I touch the mangoes and judge their ripeness. The owner, Peto, invites us in for a cup of tea. We decline his offer but buy three mangoes for our supper.

As we reach our home we see a girl with three other children sitting around her knees; she is bent over and crying. The children look lost and confused. I walk up to them and hold out my hand, the girl takes this hand and stands up.

  “I am Tanga,” I say.

 “I know, I have been looking for you,” she replies, the tears staining her cheek, reflecting the red of the sunset. We all enter the house together.

Kairo and I, not averse to the company of strangers, take pleasure in making our guests comfortable. We prepare the beds, fill the bath and together put the food on the table and eat. Our guests look tired, especially the younger children, so we ask no questions.

The girl introduces herself and her brothers, “My name is Sadie and these are my brothers.” She points to them in turn: “Heal, Buiy and Fah.” In response to this Kairo says, “You are welcome to stay here, we will not turn you away.” Sadie nods, her eyes fill with tears and I take her hand. She smiles a little in return and pulls her hand away.

I start to study Sadie and her brothers. I wonder about them and try to gather any clues as to their origin. All of them are thin and they wear foreign clothes. Baggy trousers and loose fitting shirts, nothing like our local clothing. They must have travelled far, why would such a young girl travel alone with her brothers? We glance at each other from time to time over the table and smile, in an attempt to spread a warm feeling to our guests. We encourage them to feel at ease and pretend we are not seriously worried for the future of these children who have found us.

The boys eat the rice, fish and devour the mangoes. Sadie eats very little, her dark skin, pale. The boys finish their food and I take them to their room. The boys, delighted by such comfort, immediately take off their shirt and prepare for the wonderful joy that is sleep. Five minutes pass and all is still. I leave them and walk back to the kitchen.

I find Kairo clearing the table, at which Sadie still sits, suddenly her posture slackens, her eyes close and her chin lands softly on her chest. Tiredness wins its struggle and pushes her swiftly towards slumber. Kairo looks at me, then at the girl. He walks towards her and gently ushers her on to a bed.

I remember a very good friend of mine who used to stress the importance of family. She would always say, ‘To know thy family is to know thyself’ and I would agree. When Kairo and I married, everybody would ask about our plans to have children. In B-, nobody is allowed to marry before they are thirty, so the business of reproducing is high on the agenda for most newlywed couples. After many years, we realised we were not meant to have a family and the village stopped asking so many questions. The lack of a child did not bother us and we did not feel incomplete, in fact our respect and love for each other deepened as the years brought us closer together as a couple.

The family - various different personalities flung together, bound by blood. Automatic access into lives of people one might never have met in daily life otherwise. Momentous occasions shared, arguments that reach violent proportions can strike. I remember what it was like to see my brother as a baby or when my sister and I would fight over matters that seemed important at the time. Within the family a bond deeper than friendship can form.

I lie in bed and think about Sadie, Heal, Buiy and Fah and wonder what it would be like if they became a part of my family. Kairo and I talk long into the night, discuss plans and ideas in case these children have no place to return and no one else to love them.

Night falls, the stars shine and the full moon protects the little village of B-.


Read Part 2 here: B- Part 2 - Story


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