Small Crimes in an Age of Abundance by Matthew Kneale

Author:Matthew Kneale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307427793
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

5. Pills

YOHANNES WORE RUBBER tire shoes and had a sky blue shawl wrapped around his head to protect himself against the strong Ethiopian sun as he climbed the hill to his village. He climbed purposefully, hurried by the news he brought, and did not stop at his own home but went directly to Mesulu’s, calling out her name as he stepped into the yard. “I saw two of them just yesterday,” he told her as she glanced round the door. “Two foreigners.”

Her eyes widened with interest. He followed her into the hut, which was made from wooden staves, with gaps for ventilation, so thin strips of dazzling sunlight reached out toward them across the earth floor. A pan of water was coming to a boil on the log fire, and steam and smoke swirled into the air. “They were over on the ridge just by Gi’ich,” Yohannes explained. “They were going slowly and it was already late afternoon, so they must have stayed somewhere near there last night. That means they’ll probably be at Ch’enek tonight.”

Mesulu had been waiting for this for some time. The rainy season had just ended, and it was about now that they usually started to come. There were uncertainties, of course. It was already mid-morning, and it would be a struggle to reach Ch’enek before dark. Even if she got there it might prove a wasted journey, as Yohannes had admitted it was only his guess that the foreigners would stay there tonight. Still Mesulu had made up her mind. Her husband, who was behind the hut repairing the plow, agreed.

“Of course you must. Almaz can ride on the mule.”

But Almaz, their daughter, did not like the idea. “I don’t want to go,” she told them. “I want to see the lambs.”

These had been born the night before at a house farther up the hill and were the excitement of the village morning.

“You can see them when we get back,” Mesulu told her.

“But they won’t be new then. I want to see them now.”

Mesulu and her husband had learned long ago that the only way to persuade Almaz of anything was with carrots. Sticks did not work. “You can see your cousins on the way.”

Almaz was unimpressed. “I don’t want to see my cousins. I want to see the lambs.”

Her mother reached for something stronger. “Your uncle might give you a horse.”

Almaz frowned, wondering. “D’you promise?”

“I can’t promise. They’re his horses. But if you behave well, then I think he will.”

The frown slowly cleared. “All right then.”

There was a bad moment when Mesulu and her husband helped Almaz onto the mule and she began suddenly coughing, but to their relief the fit passed almost as quickly as it had begun, and a few moments later mother and daughter were making their way down the hill. Mesulu could feel the air growing warmer and heavier as they descended, till finally they reached the stream. As they sat in the shade, letting the mule drink, the priest

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