Being Celeste (7 page)

Mum was lying comfortably on the sofa,
watching a local debate show on television while dad was on the far end of the
living room, reading a newspaper. I felt a tea errand coming up. You know, I
hate making tea. I think at my age, and after so many years of doing it, I’m so
over it. This is why I need to move out soon and go to college, and live a tea
free life for a while.

“Yes mum?” I said, from behind the sofa. It
is rude, talking to someone older than me from behind. She’s probably going to
hint it, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m in an independence mood and
all my morals have gone out the window, I guess. Fine, I’ll walk over to the
front of the sofa.

“Celeste dear, I just wanted to let you
know that this weekend we are all going home to the village. The elders have
called for a
phekolo
and we all need to be there. It is part of the
reason why your sister’s coming,” she said after reducing the volume from the
television.

Home?
The
village? Great, just great! I have a trip to Kalamare this week which I have no
say in. A
phekolo
is a traditional cleansing ritual performed by
families to get rid of all the bad karmas or curses that may befall the family
or someone in the family. The whole family gathers at home, and we slaughter a
beast as a sacrifice to the gods, to remove any bad luck or curses from the
family. They bring in traditional doctors to run the whole thing and then we
eat the cow meat during a big feast. Then everyone goes back to their daily
lives the next day. But why is it so impromptu this time? The
elders
always give us a heads up a month before the ritual. Don’t they get that some
of us are just beginning to have lives? I have to go to the gym and concentrate
on my weight loss, you know. I had planned that the next time I saw the
extended family, I’d be thinner and they’d all crowd around me throwing
compliments at my slimmer waist line. But it’s probably for the best, my
rakgadi
(aunt) Bontle (my older sister is named after her), would be devastated if she
saw me slim. She always says that I have the family bone structure,
big
and
full figured, all the women were. Yes, and they all have diabetes, she never
mentions
that
. Another thing, I’m going to be forced to eat the meat
that is going to be offered to the gods as a sacrifice...uh-hum! Does the term
vegetarian
mean anything to these people? If my mother really cared about my new
lifestyle, she wouldn’t be forcing me to go to Kalamare and feast on
cholesterol infested flesh.

“Kate won’t mind running the store alone on
Friday and Saturday, right?” mum asked. “We leave on Friday morning.”

Yes, she
will
mind. Running a
busy
boutique like ours is hard work. Okay, maybe it’s not that busy. “No,  I’m
sure she won’t mind,” I replied.

“She’ll close it down if she finds it hard
to bear.”

I just said that she won’t mind. But I
nodded anyway and proceeded to leave the living room and flee to my bedroom, to
think about my ruined plans of a happy beginning to the rest of my life. I’d
hoped that thinking this much wouldn’t make me into a mental drama queen.

“Would you make us some tea, dear; me and
your father,” mum called out.

I let out a mental scream. Ugh! I knew it.
I wonder why they love tea so much. They have like ten cups between them every
day. Maybe it’s what retiring does to a person: you drink tea and sleep all
day.
Rooibos
, my nightmare! I don’t like how it tastes. I wonder if it
can help a person lose weight. I mean, it’s tea; it must have some function
beneficial to the body.
Rooibos.
I’ll search for it later on the
internet. Maybe then, making tea won’t be such a chore. I gave my mother her
cup of tea and she immediately started slurping, like it was a delicious cup of
ice-tea. I think after drinking so many cups of tea like my parents have, the
tongue becomes tough and resistant to heat. I mean, it’s boiling hot, and she’s
drinking it like it’s not. I personally would wait for it to cool down first.
Dad also downs the stuff like its cold. Maybe it’s a skill.

“There you go, dad.” I handed him his cup
and he thanked me for my troubles. He didn’t take his eyes off the newspaper he
was reading. Hang on, that’s it, that’s the newspaper with the makeover entry
form in it. I hope the promotion hasn’t expired or there is actually an entry
from in there. Kate is going to love me for this. “Dad,” I called, hovering
over him.

“Yes, what is it?” he replied, reaching for
his cup. This time he looked up at me. I get the feeling it was so he could
take a sip of tea and not because I was calling for his attention.

“May I disturb you for a second? There’s
something I want in the newspaper you’re reading.”

He reluctantly gave way and handed me the
newspaper. I don’t know why it’s hard for him to hand me the newspaper, it’s
not like I’m proposing we go to the dentist and pull out one of his teeth.

“Dirang, are you done over there?” said
mum.

Oh now I know why he’s reluctant, he’s
avoiding mum. That’s almost funny. But why, mum has amazingly interesting
company. All she talks about is the church, that’s interesting. I should hurry,
so that I can give dad his lifeline back.

“Not yet, dear,” he replied.

Mum turned and resumed her attention back
to her program. I have a feeling she’s looking for someone to discuss the on
going debate on the television with her. That’s why she has the volume so high,
so that dad can listen while he’s reading and then they can discuss the issue
when he is done. I guess he’s just avoiding the competition. Mum can be pretty
competitive. I don’t know why she chose to marry a man who likes living life
behind the scenes.

When I found the entry form, my heart
jumped in surprise, as if I’d spotted a free breakfast coupon from a local
restaurant. But I guess it happens to a lot of us, when you are really looking
for something, then you find it. It’s a great instantaneous feeling. Imagine if
I’d missed it, or if it wasn’t in there; the frustration would begin to build
up. I tore the page and shoved the newspaper into my father’s hands. He looked
anxious to return back to his reading. And would you look at that, his tea cup
is empty. I rushed out of the living room to avoid a request for a refill.

Shit! I think I
pulled something. I can hardly breathe because my lungs hurt. I’m no scientist,
but I think they hurt because of all the air I breathed in while on the
treadmill. Now I get it. The trainers, I get them. They were only nice because
they wanted my money. Once I was in there, I saw ruthless and evil, that’s all
I saw. As a signing up bonus, I get a free week of personal training, you know,
to get me acquainted to all the vulgar machinery in the gym and to show me ways
of exercising. I tried smiling at him so that he could go easy on me, but he
stared me down and clicked his fingers at me, don’t know why.

“Let’s go, come on let’s go!” he screamed.

I was out of breath after like thirty
seconds, just doing a fast walk on the treadmill. It’s a very peculiar machine.
The ground is moving and I have to catch up with it. I felt weird just walking
on it. Maybe I’m just weird, but I felt funny and paranoid. One day the world
is going to be ruled by machines. I mean, whatever happened to running
organically around a field? At least then I can decrease or increase my speed
how I want it, instead of this constant nightmare. One time I reached out and
tried to adjust my speed to something lower and manageable, and he slapped my
hand. Yes, he did. Then he yelled at me, “That button is off limits, let’s go!”
So rude, these people are. Maybe it’s because its 6:30 in the morning, he’s
cranky, just like I am when I work early in the morning. Nope. I did not let
his harshness get to me. I’m here for a reason and a good reason it is: I am
losing this weight. I feel like such a sissy, being defeated on my first day. I
dread the future, this is horrific.

Then Trevor, my trainer, he had me try out
every machine in the gym. I shouldn’t have told him that I had two hours to
work out. Those cycling spinning machines are just awful. It took me forever to
climb on. And who came up with them anyway? The seat is not comfortable at all.
He said I’ll get used to it, and that I had twenty minutes left on it though.
Exercise is a bitch.

So after wiping down the sweat and changing
into my work clothes (hey, I’m not taking a shower to wash off the sweat, I
showered before I came to the gym. Besides, it’s weird taking a shower in a
public place, where
anyone
enters. Maybe when I have a six pack, it
won’t bother me that much.) I headed off to the post office. On my way out of
the gym they all bid me farewell with smiles on their faces, all happy and
warm. I comprehended them as being smug and evil.

“Don’t forget aerobics in the evening,”
said my trainer, with
his
smile.

Screw you! I thought. I’m going over to the
post office to mail Kate’s entry form for the makeover promotion. I have to buy
a stamp first, I wish to find the place queue free and open, because I can’t be
late for work. Sceptical mum wouldn’t borrow me her car in the morning. Ever
since news of petrol prices soaring up, she’s been using
that
as her new
excuse to avoid borrowing me her car. Dad’s gone back to the cattle post, so I
can’t use his. I don’t get why she’s worried about petrol when her ancient
sedan spends all its days parked away doing nothing. The cold is going to get
the best of it. One day it just won’t start, I tell you. Then we’ll see what
car she’s going to deny me when it’s not working...well hang on, that will be a
disadvantage to me too. I guess it’s only good for going to church then.

Done, all done. My heart is very fragile of
late, which is why being the only woman in a taxi filled with men discussing
the football match results from the weekend, really makes me irritated when I
shouldn’t be. I need to clear my head and not have it congested with
information I don’t really know. Apparently the manager of the biggest soccer
team in the country has been fired because the team is not delivering this year
in any of the leagues. I have no idea what it means or implies or who he is,
but I know it. The taxi driver and the three male passengers that were on it,
with me squeezed in the middle of the back seat, were just going at it, the
topic. Some were against the poor manager being fired and others were just
outraged by the team’s downfall to even care about someone losing their job.
The man sitting on my left even almost poked my eye at one point, expressing
his views with his hands.
He
was the one angry about the poor
performance. By the time I arrived and got out of the taxi, all squeezed up,
I’m pretty sure I knew all the stats of the very famous team and how the game
went during the weekend. My clear mind had soaked it all up. Another reason why
I should be driving the antique my mother calls a car.

I got a sense of normalcy when I spotted
Kate through the store window, packing away some files into a cabinet behind
her beloved counter. She’s organising as usual and she’s in...brown today? I
thought brown was the colour for Thursday. I can’t wait to hear all about it. I
flung the doors wide open and made a grand entrance. Okay, maybe I didn’t put
as much energy into it. I merely used the last strength I had left in my
muscles to force the door open, and hauled myself into the shop.

Kate giggled when she saw me. “
That
bad, huh?” she said, followed by yet another giggle.

“No, it was fantastic!” I replied. I don’t
get why me being in critical pain is so funny.

“I’m wearing brown today because I’ve
decided to shuffle up the colours this week. It’s part of me being
spontaneous.” Kate looked very satisfied with herself.

After hearing her reason, which by the way,
I hadn’t asked for yet, I guess she just couldn’t wait to explain to me why she
was wearing all brown today instead of all blue. Anyway, I kept on reminding
myself that this would be over soon, as soon as the entry form arrived and
someone decided to give her a fashion rescue. Let her see the light from her
transgressions.

I told Kate about the
phekolo
this
weekend. Of course she has no problem with watching the shop alone. She even
thought it’s going to be fun, with me surrounded my close relatives and
catching up.

“It’s such a shame that we are going to
miss girl’s night out,” she said, helping me fold tops on sale.

“I know. It’s taking so much from our
schedule. At least my sister will be there to help take the weight off hanging
out with mum and dad.” My arms were so stiff from the morning workout, I could
barely fold anything.

“We can always have girls night’s out on
the Sunday.”

“Yeah, like mum is going to agree to
borrowing me her car on Sunday night,” I said, leaning against the table. “Do
you mind if I sit, I think I’m about to pass out.”

“Are you alright?” said Kate looking rather
worried.

I
was
still sweating, despite the
cold atmosphere and the fact that it had been an hour since I’d retired from
the gym. And I felt a little queasy. I told Trevor, my trainer, that I felt
like puking after my stint on the treadmill, and he said it was normal for
someone who was out of shape. In fact, he said that it was a good sign. Do you
think he has something against me? He’s trying to kill me.