A Question of Power by Bessie Head

Author:Bessie Head
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Botswana
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1973-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Kenosi came speeding down the small dusty brown road with the long, loping strides of a cat in haste. Her bent head nodded a little quicker than usual. It was two days after Christmas and the first day Elizabeth had stood up. The past two days had passed by for her in a slumbering delirium, but her shattered nerve-ends had knitted themselves together again. She had eaten nothing, though meals had been prepared. Almost ravenously she drank cup after cup of tea.

She had the door open by the time Kenosi reached the doorstep. Kenosi stared at her severely.

“Dumela,” she said, a little breathlessly. “There is someone in the garden to join us in the work.”

“Who?” Elizabeth asked, instantly alert.

“I don’t know him,” Kenosi said. “He is saying he comes from America. His name is Tom. He’s from farmer’s side. One of the farmers told me he was sleeping in the dormitory with them. He came on Christmas Day.”

“Won’t you come in for some tea first?” Elizabeth asked.

“There isn’t time,” Kenosi said abruptly. “The work must start.”

Elizabeth rushed to collect her garden notebook and bag. The small boy picked up his box of inventions and huffed and panted after them.

The gate-posts and corner-posts had to be fixed in with cement. He was already mixing the concrete for the gateposts by the time they arrived in the garden. He was about twenty-two years old. He was stripped to the waist and wore faded blue jeans. From somewhere he had acquired a pair of army boots such as the cattlemen sometimes wear when they are taking their cattle on long treks through the bush. He looked up briefly as they approached. He had an absentmindedly friendly face with slightly squinty blue eyes and a small mouth which he kept partly open. It made him look permanently surprised. His short-cropped hair stood straight on end. The two women paused. They were a perfect work-team together, silent, intent and yet always dependent on each other for a hand to lift a weight here and ease a load there. During the past week it had been fixed that they should work together. Here was a third party. He worked beautifully. He had hard, thick muscles on the arms and back and clutched the spade firmly with thick, grubby hands. He did not care about greetings. Maybe some other time. He was busy. Without looking up again he said to no one in particular:

“Will you catch hold of this pole, I’m just about to pitch in the cement.”

The gate-pole was in the hole at a slant. Kenosi stepped forward, grasped hold of it and clung to its upright posture. It was as if the young man’s inner world was always one of ease and freedom, no matter what his circumstances. He started singing to himself:

“Hello, Dolly. This is Lewis, Dolly. It’s so nice to have you back where you belong. You’re looking swell, Dolly. I can tell, Dolly. You’re still growing, you’re still going, you’re still going strong…”

Elizabeth listened to the words alertly.

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