Abyssinian Chronicles Read Online Free Page B

his prize: an overtly feminine Italian-made Vespa scooter. I awaited more twists to the tale, but Uncle Kawayida never mentioned it again. I tried to tempt Grandpa into telling me more about it, but he just sent me off to play. When Tiida came to visit, she created a wall around herself and would not divulge any more details. I gave up.
    I was high up in the tree hoping to catch sight of the blue-bellied eagle when I saw a car headed for Grandma’s compound. My heart sank. Visitors who came in cars tended to overstay their welcome, crowding us, knocking us out of our rhythm, filling me with impatience. Visitors with children were the worst: they expected you to babysit for them, as if you had nothing better to do, while they went visiting or having a good time. The children shat, wet themselves, crawled all over the place, and you were supposed to be responsible for their safety. And when departing, these parents would not even thank you or throw you a coin for pocket money.
    As I slowly kneed my way down the tree, I wondered how many children this visitor had brought with her. Oh, the thought of those dreadful nappies soaking in the basin or flying in the sun!
    By the time I arrived at Grandma’s the car had left. In the courtyard were two large suitcases and things in cardboard boxes. My heart sank deeper. This woman had indeed come to stay, to disorganize our program, to boss us. Again! It was Aunt Nakatu, Serenity’s second sister. She was a short, dark woman with deep curves on a compact body which bespoke great energy. She had a soft, melodious voice more suited for singing than giving orders, which was possibly the reason why she had to repeat things twice or more before her orders were obeyed. She was the only daughter of the house who had married in church. She looked more impressive in the wedding picture, the masses of bridal tulle and the three-meter bridal train giving her the air of compressed royalty. Her husband was a very tall man, whom I imagined bending over to tell her something if he was not to shout. As Istood in front of this short, fattish person, mouthing the obligatory words of welcome, I tried to work out how things were going to be for the duration of her stay. Joy of joys, she had not brought any children with her for me to mind and to keep from eating caterpillars, millipedes and earthworms.
    Grandpa was away on a visit. The news he got on his return made him sad: Nakatu had run away and had no intention of returning to her husband’s house. He was fond of Nakatu’s husband, a bond of loyalty linked to the new Raleigh bicycle this son-in-law had given him before wedding his daughter. It was the same bicycle Grandpa rode around on now. The news made Grandpa look away in the trees, as if worried that his son-in-law was going to appear and demand the bicycle back.
    Grandpa sent me away, but I doubled back as usual. Nakatu had left her husband after almost ten years of marriage. Grandpa was annoyed by her refusal to go back. As a compromise, he offered to invite the man over in order to hear both sides of the story, but Nakatu replied that even if he were to invite the pope, she would not change her mind. She insisted that her husband’s concubine had tried to kill her. “It began with nightmares. As soon as I closed my eyes, I would dream of lions closing in on me and tearing me apart. I started sleeping with the light on because then the nightmares relented a bit. I consulted a seer, and I was told that it was a concubine who wanted to drive me out of the house. When she realized that I was not leaving, she got someone to try to run me over.”
    “There are too many drunks and freaks with cars.”
    “I got stomach infections and migraines which disappeared as soon as I left the house and slept elsewhere but returned as soon as I was back. The woman wants me out of the house, and now she can have it.”
    “Does she have a child with him?” Grandpa asked.
    “Not that I know of, but I guess