Then the Pa set down his whisky and smote both eyebrows with his hands and began to weep and the Ma said in a cheerful voice now I think it’s bedtime everybody would you like me to show you to your rooms?
I AM DOG I SLEEP MY BELLY IS FULL OF GOOD DOG FOOD MEAT I HAVE WON THE HEART OF THE GOOD VEGETABLE-SMELL FEMALE I HAVE SOOTHED THE MAN-DRINK-STINK MAN I HAVE CHASED AWAY THE TROUBLESOME CAT NOW I SLEEP I AM DOG
Dear sister,
In this house of Toby Makenzi is a miraculous bath which upon touching a switch swirls the water around as fullsomely as the Shire River though off course without crocodiles and whiling in this bath I fell into a worry about these good mzungus in their godless torment and wondered how to bring them consolation.
For this Pa loves hunting and the life of freedom in the woods yet is confounded by the city. This Ma loves the Pa but is confounded by his whisky drinking and blaspheming. Then I was smitten with a joyous thought. I will give Pa Makenzi the fishing rod of the Mozambicans and the red bucket. Thus he will hunt for fishes in the rivers and leave behind the whisky drinking and blaspheming. And what could I give to Ma Makenzi? For everyone knows that a beauteous woman is hard to please and I am a poor boy with nothing to offer. And I was smitten with another joyous thought. This Ma is beloved of vegetables I will give her the carrots.
This thought along with the fullsome swirling of the water caused me to open my heart and sing the song of praise which Sister Theodosia taught me Ave Maria Gratia Plena. And this was also joyous for the Ma’s name is Maria.
Andriy Palenko, how can you in all conscience go off and leave your young friend Emanuel in the care of this abnormal family? What’s the matter with these people, in their massive many-windowed house? Two cars (yes, after the father arrived, he saw a nice fat Lexus squatting on the drive beside the little Golf), three high-spec computers, four televisions, all with flat screens, five bathrooms, four en-suite (yes, he made a little tour of the house). Etc. What is the point in all this stuff if it doesn’t bring you happiness?
If his family had had a tenth, no even a hundredth of all this wealth, everything would have been completely different-and would these people even have missed it? “A man needs enough,” his father had said, “no less, and no more.” But they hadn’t had enough. Poor Dad. Yes, his father knew better than anybody that to go underground in those conditions was risky. But when you haven’t got enough, that’s what you have to do.
Andriy is lying stiff and fully clothed on one of the two beds in the room he is sharing with Emanuel, staring at the ceiling and trying to prepare himself for the conversation ahead. In the nearest of the five bathrooms, Emanuel is singing, filling the whole house with his exuberant music. Andriy has a sudden image of that moment in the cathedral; the pink open mouth, the closed eyes, the tears. The singing stops. There is a sound of water gurgling down a plug. Here he comes.
“Emanuel, my father was kill in coalmining accident. Your father was kill in canal accident, yes?”
“Both killed. Mother and father.”
“This is very terrible. To lose both parents at one time.”
“Also my baby brother. This I cannot understand. To punish my little baby brother.”
“Emanuel, this is not punishment, it is accident. Sometimes no person is to blame.”
“But maybe my father is to blame for being unfaithful to my mother.”
“And you think this canal accident was for punishment?”
“No no. HIV sickness was punishment.”
Hm. There may be some vital connection you are missing here, Andriy Palenko. But it’s no use worrying about something you don’t understand. You’ve only got tonight to get your message across. “Emanuel, my brother-do you know what is condom?”
“Of course I know. It is an abomination in the eye of the Lord. In Chichewa, we have a saying: Only a fool eats the sweet with its wrapper.”
Emanuel is standing in the middle of the room, drying himself vigorously on a fluffy white towel, as though burring his small, lean, knotty body into polished ebony. Andriy has never seen him naked before. He tries not to stare, but he can’t help taking a surreptitious peep. Is it true what they say about the black man’s manly parts?
“Condom will protect you life, Emanuel. With condom you can have plenty sex no problem. No virus. No organism. No HIV. No problem. After, you say prayer and God will forgive.”
Mrs McKenzie showed me to a room right up in the eaves of the house-such a pretty room, everything matching in blue and white, like in a magazine, and even my own little bathroom with a fluffy white towel warming on the rail and a new bar of scented soap still in its wrapper. I unwrapped it straight away. It smelt spicy and expensive, not sweet and sickly like soap in Ukraine. I wondered if it would be rude to ask whether I could keep the soap when I left, or whether she would even notice if I just slipped it into my bag. After I’d showered I put on my nightdress, which looked crumpled and grey in that clean white and blue room, but I had nothing else. Then I sat in the armchair, smelling the soap on my arms and hands and wondering where Andriy was, and wondering whether he was wondering where I was. There’s something very romantic about attic rooms.
Then there was a knock on the door. My heart started to beat like crazy.
“Come in.”
But it wasn’t him, it was Mrs McKenzie.
“Hello,” she said, in that soft subtle voice that was like the smell of the soap. “Can I come in?”
“Of course. Please.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Have you got everything you need?”
“I like this room very much.”
It was true-I felt as at home as in my own little bedroom in Kiev. Why is it that when you think happy thoughts, tears can suddenly come into your eyes? Sniffle sniffle. What was the matter with me? I don’t know why, but all at once I found myself telling her about Vulk, and then the words just came pouring out: his creaky coat, his live-rat ponytail, his cigar-stinking car, his sly black hungry-dog eyes. When I tried to describe that night, the words got stuck in my mouth and made me choke.
Mrs McKenzie said in her kind voice, “You know, yoga is very calming when you need to relax. Would you like me to show you?”
“No, it’s OK.”
In my opinion yoga is a typical Western fad, but I didn’t want to offend her, and anyway I was still sniffling.
“Do you miss your mother, darling?”
“Yes, of course.” Then suddenly I blurted out, “In fact I am missing my father. Since he is no longer living at home.”
“He isn’t living at home?”
“He is gone to live with someone else. Someone much younger.”
As I said those words, I felt my face turn red. I didn’t know if it was shame or rage. I felt so sad for Mamma, all by herself in the apartment, talking to the cat, eating breakfast on her own and dinner on her own. Then I thought of the way she was always nagging him: do this, do that, do you love me, Vanya? When I have a husband, I will never do that.
“You really love him, don’t you?” Mrs McKenzie smiled.
“No. Not at all.”
Then I laughed, because I realised that she was talking about Pappa, but I was thinking about Andriy Palenko, and wondering what it would be like to feel his arms around me.
Suddenly there was a quiet knock, then the door opened. My heart jumped. But it wasn’t Andriy, it was Toby.
“Ma, have you got any condoms?” he whispered.
Mrs McKenzie didn’t even turn her head.
“Second drawer down, my side of the bed. Take care not to wake your father.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
Hm. Interesting. Strawberry Flavour Ticklers. These are not like any Ukrainian condoms that Andriy has seen, though probably the principle is the same. But how will they demonstrate it to Emanuel? “I suppose we could show him some porn,” Toby McKenzie looks glum. “That might get him horny. I could download something from the net. Paris Hilton and friends. Busty Biker Chicks. You ever seen that?”