Green City in the Sun (78 page)

     A hot breeze came up. Mona stepped outside, hoping for relief. The air was heavy. Flies and bees filled the heat with their hum. The corrugated tin rooftops of the mission's many buildings shimmered in the sun and sent up transparent heat waves. The silence was profound. It seemed to Mona as if the world slept. Grace Mission, normally a center of constant activity, appeared to be sleeping through the oppressive afternoon. In fact, she realized in puzzlement, there wasn't the usual pedestrian traffic about. It seemed that within the past few minutes everyone had disappeared: nurses; patients; doctors in white lab coats; visitors bringing food and flowers.

     Inside the classroom James was trying to tell the panicked settlers not to lose their heads when Mona saw a car suddenly appear on one of the paved
lanes. It was approaching at a terrific speed, the driver pressing the horn. When she saw David jump out and come running toward her, she went to meet him.

     "What is it, David?"

     He seized her arm. "You must get away!
Now!"

     "What—"

     He started to pull her away.

     The others, having heard the horn and the screech of brakes, ran to the door and windows and looked out. "Run!" David shouted to them.

     "Mau Mau!"

     And then it hit.

     They appeared from out of nowhere, all at once, surrounding the classroom. Men with pangas and spears and rifles materialized from the bushes and trees, their long hair twisted into the formidable dreadlocks of Mau Mau.

     David ran with Mona as shooting erupted all around them. Flaming torches flew through the air, crashed through the classroom windows. From inside came screams.

     A flying rock narrowly missed Mona's head. Bullets whistled past her ears as she ran with David, his hand tight on hers. They reached a small storage shed. Mona stumbled and fell. David caught her up and pulled her to him. In the brief shelter behind the shed he held her tight, and she clung to him. They heard the frenzied yelps of the forest men as they besieged the classroom. Gunfire thundered; glass shattered. There was screaming and shouting. In the distance came the wail of the alarm siren.

     Mona and David held on to each other for a moment. Then he drew back and said, "Go to my mother's hut! You will be safe there!"

     "No."

     "Mona, damn it! Do as I say! They are after us! Don't you understand?"

     "I won't leave you!"

     He pulled the gun from her holster. "Run to the car as fast as you can. I'll keep them off with this."

     "No!"

     A spear clattered on the tin roof of the shed. A bullet exploded in the masonry by Mona's arm. David took her hand again; they dashed from the
shed and fell into the shelter of a large hedge. Mona stared in shock at the scene before her.

     The classroom was on fire; bodies of Mau Mau and settlers were already strewn on the ground. She saw David raise the gun, aim, and fire. A terrorist, about to throw a fire bomb, froze, then dropped. David fired again. Another Mau Mau fell. At the classroom windows she saw Geoffrey and his father shooting through broken glass at the onrushing Africans. A woman—Mrs. Langly—came running out. A Mau Mau spear went through her stomach.

     There seemed to be hundreds of them, feral men waving pangas and spears, dressed in rags, their faces wild and filled with bloodlust. Mona saw one trying to climb through a rear window of the classroom. "David!" she screamed. He fired. The man fell dead.

     They kept coming. They dropped as settler bullets found their marks. But Mau Mau, too, were shooting guns, their bullets going through windows and finding targets inside. Flames leaped everywhere. Smoke billowed up to the placid sky. Two more white men came out of the classroom, stumbling and coughing. Both fell beneath the pangas of Mau Mau lying in wait.

     Mona saw Mr. Kempler drop to his knees as six Africans slaughtered him with their blades.

     Father Vittorio came out waving a white cloth. A fiery torch was thrust at him; his black cassock burst into flame.

     Mona heard David's gun click. He said, "I need more bullets," and she stared at him.

     "I haven't any!"

     A Mau Mau spotted the two behind the hedge. He gave out a yell, and a gang of comrades followed him. David and Mona jumped up and ran. They zigzagged along the garden paths that lay between mission buildings. They jumped over hedges, dashed around corners. The Mau Mau followed, yelping like hunting hounds, hurling rocks and spears, firing pistols.

     The entrance to the mission, a broad, arching wrought-iron gate, appeared before them. Beyond it lay the polo field, grown over with weeds and yellow from the drought. At the far end of that, on the other side of a rusting chain link fence, stood the huts of Mama Wachera and the woman who had once been David's wife.

     "Go to my mother!" David said again. "She will protect you! I will go this way, and they'll follow me."

     "No, David. I won't leave you!"

     He looked at her.

     Then he said, "This way!"

     They found the door of the machine shop standing open. Inside it was cool and dark; cars and trucks stood in various stages of repair. It was, like the rest of the mission, deserted. David took Mona's hand; they darted inside.

     They moved quickly and silently between the autos, stepped around oil drums, dodged hanging tires. Then the light from the doorway was blocked by the silhouettes of their pursuers. The terrorists hesitated.

     David led Mona into the darkest corner, where they crouched behind a workbench. He searched for a weapon and seized a bicycle chain. Mona held on to him. She could hardly breathe; her mouth had gone dry with fear.

     They watched the silhouettes shift in the doorway, heard the men argue quietly among themselves.

     Mona felt David's muscles tighten. His body was hard, coiled to spring. She trembled. He put his arm around her and drew her closer to him.

     Suddenly a shape loomed up beside them, and a hand shot out of the dark. Mona screamed. She seemed to fly up out of David's hold; her feet left the ground.

     David saw the massive hand that had seized her by the hair. He saw the second hand raise up, the bloodied panga poised to come down across her throat.

     He flew at the man, driving the chain against the Mau Mau's head.

     The hand released Mona. She fell among the tools and car jacks. Dazed, she saw the two men struggle. Then she saw the others come rushing in.

     She fumbled frantically in the dark. Her hand fell upon a tire iron. The first Mau Mau to reach her received a cracking blow across his shins. He cried out and dropped his spear.

     Mona stood up and lashed out again. She heard the satisfying snap of bone as the iron came down on his shoulder.

     But now the others were upon them. She saw David overwhelmed by them; he fell beneath blows and kicks. She felt hands reaching for her, pulling
at her clothing. She tried to fight. She struck out blindly with the iron. But she knew there was no hope.

     
David...

     Suddenly the terrorists drew back and began to run from the garage. Mona blinked in bewilderment. Then she heard the police sirens, the roar of airplane engines.

     She dropped to her knees and reached for David. He was on his side, moaning. "They're gone..." she said. "The soldiers have arrived."

     After a moment they were able to help each other up. They stood in the darkness, arms around each other for support, then staggered out into the sunlight.

     When they arrived at the classroom, where a bucket brigade was dousing the fire and where soldiers were putting handcuffs on captured Mau Mau, Mona ran to her aunt, who was bandaging Mr. Langly's head.

     "Eight of us dead," Grace said. She herself had received no wounds, but her face was smudged with dirt; her silver hair had come out of its bun and trailed over her shoulders. "They killed eight of us...."

     Mona looked around. She saw Sir James, Geoffrey, and Tim conferring with the command officer. She saw Mrs. Kempler, weeping over her husband's barely recognizable body, being comforted by a nurse. The captured Mau Mau were being treated roughly; several received knocks on the head with clubs. At the periphery of the brutal scene a few Africans looked on with blank expressions. Mona knew who they were—mission workers. Where had they gone to? she wondered. How had they known about the attack?

     And then poor old Mario, trembling and crying, came running from the house and stood over Grace, wringing his hands.

     Mona turned to look back over her shoulder. She saw four British soldiers surrounding David. One of them suddenly delivered a fist into David's stomach. He dropped to his knees, doubled over.

     "Stop!" Mona cried, running to them. Geoffrey, hearing her, also came running.

     "Stop!" she screamed, pushing through the soldiers. She knelt next to David and put her arm around him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she screamed at the soldiers.

     "He's a suspect, Miss Treverton. We're getting information from him."

     "This man is no suspect, you idiot! He's my estate manager!"

     "Looks like Mau Mau to me," said another.

     "What's this all about?" said Geoffrey as he came up.

     "This boy was resisting arrest, sir. We're taking him in for questioning."

     "You are not!" said Mona. "And he isn't a
boy!"

     Geoffrey looked down at Mona. She was kneeling in the dirt next to David Mathenge. "They have to take him in, Mona. They have to question everyone."

     "Don't you dare touch him.
David saved my life!"

     The soldiers looked at one another.

     Geoffrey scowled down at her.

     "He came to warn us," Mona said. "You know that, Geoffrey."

     "Yes, and he came a bit late to help, don't you think? I wonder how he knew of the attack."

     Mona glared up at him, her arm protectively around David.

     Geoffrey met her gaze for a moment, saw the challenge in her eyes, the determined set of her mouth—for an instant it was like looking at the face of Valentine Treverton—then slapped his thigh and said to the soldiers, "You heard her. This boy was helping us fight the Mau Mau. He isn't one of them. You can let him go."

     When Geoffrey and the soldiers were gone, Mona said, "Are you all right, David?"

     He nodded. But there was a nasty cut on his forehead, a bruise on his cheek; a trickle of blood came from the corner of his mouth.

     "Come on. Aunt Grace will see to you."

     But David said, "No." He moved out from under Mona's arm and stood. "I will go to my mother. She is a medicine woman."

     Mona watched him limp away; then she went to where Mrs. Kempler was sobbing uncontrollably with her husband's blood on her hands.

     Not a few people at the scene that day, bitter and angry and filled with thoughts of revenge—both African and white—had noticed how Mona Treverton had put her arm around David Mathenge.

T
HE RAINS HAD COME AT LAST.
A gentle drizzle whispered beyond the heavily draped windows of Bellatu, wetting the red and lavender bougainvillaea that grew along the pillars and eaves of the veranda. Inside, a comforting fire crackled in the living room, casting fingers of yellow glow over furniture, zebraskins, and elephant tusks crisscrossed on the walls.

     David closed the ledger book and said, "It is late. I must go."

     Mona didn't reply. She quietly restored neatness to her desk, where they had been working all afternoon, trying to find a way to meet the growing debts of the farm since the crop failure. New seedlings were now being watered by the tardy rains, but revenue from that future harvest would not arrive in time. Her only solution to saving the estate, Mona had decided, was to sell Bella Hill.

     "I will write to Mr. Treadwell first thing in the morning," she said as she stood with David and turned out the desk lamp. "I'll tell him that I accept his offer. It's a good price, I think. And Bella Hill will make a good boarding
school. I don't mind losing it. That house holds only bad memories for me."

     For an instant Mona and David looked at each other in the darkness of the study. Then Mona turned abruptly and headed for the light and warmth of the living room.

     She was frightened. She had been debating all day showing David the note she had found in her letter box. Ordinarily she would have told him about it at once. But in the two weeks since the Mau Mau attack on Grace Mission their relationship had altered drastically.

     Something now lay between them, Mona realized, something dark and shapeless and terrifying. It was like a giant sleeping lion—unthreatening when not aroused, but deadly if disturbed. It was the lethal passion their mutual desire had given birth to, which had brought them to the terrible threshold of racial taboos.

     Mona could not stop thinking about the day of the attack. She concentrated on the memory of the feel of David's hand holding hers, the way he had pulled her to him, the firmness of his body, the tight embrace within his arms. She had looked up into his eyes in that moment, as they stood in the brief shelter of the storage shed, and she had seen mirrored in his look her own desperate yearning. For one fleeting instant he had tightened his hold, their bodies had come together, and then they had separated and run.