The Intern Affair (72 page)

The grey walls seemed to be closing in on her thoughts like those of a prison. Talya was a prisoner of her past. Maybe tomorrow she would have a chance to relive the nightmare and free her mind of the haunting and of unwanted memory forever. 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She went and opened it to find Samir looking down at her curiously. 

“You’ve been crying?” He closed the door on them. “Did someone disturb you?”

“Yes, someone did. My mother did. She has come to witness the pain once again and to scold me for the shame I had once brought upon
her
.”

“You’re beginning to remember?” Samir came to sit beside her in one of the chairs below the window.

“I am, Samir. I didn’t tell you this, but this is where my parents and I stayed on our way back to
Belgium
every summer while my father was stationed in Guinée.” 

He took her hand, stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Why don’t we go to the garden and take a walk? There is no air in these rooms.”

“There is not much of a garden either, but I guess it’s better than staying in this cell. I don’t like this place.” She looked around her once more.

“I know, but we’re here to do a job, and as soon as it is done, we’ll get out of here never to return, but for now, all we can do is to go to the garden.” Samir then handed her the veil and abayah to hide her body and face from unwanted scrutiny.

As they crossed the lounge on their way to the terrace, Talya saw
Christian
and
Karim
in agitated palavers but talking covertly.

Once they were outside and away from earshot, Talya had to ask, “How is it going with
Karim
?  Has he recognized you?”

“I don’t know, but as I said even if he did, I will play the game to the end. As you saw, our cat is with him. Right now they’re discussing the drafting of some protocol d’accord that I will review tomorrow before supposedly signing
Karim
on as our agent in
Gabon
.”

“That’s sounds like the same scheme
Karim
put in place for
Charles
in
New York
.”

“It is, and it’s easy to fall into such a trap when you don’t know the ways of
Africa
.”

“Yes, and
Charles
is a white man, and short on knowledge of
Africa
. But you’re not, and it should be surprising to
Karim
that you’re falling into the trap so easily, or aren’t you?”

“I’m not. It’s
Christian
who will be convincing
me
. At this stage, I’m playing the role of the ‘reluctant and
knowledgeable
Emir
’.
Karim
and
Christian
are friends right now and I’m the enemy. I opposed so many objections to
Karim
’s plan that he’s anxious to find a way to persuade
me
to take the bait.”

“Wow, that’s good. And when do you plan to come round?”

“Not before
Karim
is almost ready to give up. By that time he will be so desperate for me to accept the deal that he’ll be pleading me to take him to the beach.”

“That’s not only good, it’s brilliant. And what’s
Christian
’s reaction to your outward reluctance?”

“You should hear him…, he’s enjoying every minute of it.  He’s an absolute master of the game….” Samir stopped talking when he saw that Talya’s eyes were drawn to the runway in front of them. 

She was seeing her father and mother going up the gangway to get into the Illiushin plane, which was to take them home that summer. She had loved her father for raising her from the day she was born. Her mother didn’t want the bother of having any children. She had resented Talya’s presence and the disturbance she had caused in her life. Most of all, she had resented the attention and the love her father had given his daughter. He was much like Samir—always attentive and considerate. He, too, had said that he wasn’t a Christian or a Jew or a Muslim, he was simply a man who believed in God.

“Would you like to go to Dubreka now, instead of tomorrow?” Samir asked suddenly, sensing that Talya’s thoughts were wandering amid times past. “I know it’s almost five o’clock, but we have plenty of time before sunset, and
Christian
and I will meet
Karim
for dinner later at eight.”  Samir took Talya’s hand and kissed it softly. “So would you like to go?”

“Yes, I guess we should.”

122

It took the limo
nearly forty-five minutes to reach the turn-off into the drive to the school campus. Samir had shown the driver and Khumar where they wanted to go on a detailed map of the area. Khumar was to accompany them until such time that Samir would tell him to leave them alone. 

Samir was holding Talya’s hand as they turned into the drive. It led from the turn-off to the apartment blocks where Talya used to live. They were located in two four-storey buildings, containing some fifteen apartments per floor. Theirs was on the first floor above the carport. The living room and her parents’ room faced the garbage dump, where the charognards (vultures) would feast every afternoon before sunset. Today was no different. The place still smelled of putrid food and discarded trash from the adjacent buildings. It was a disgusting, filthy and repugnant sight. Talya’s room, bathroom, kitchen and pantry faced the area between their building and the next.

Talking about the pantry
,
Talya
began recounting what she remembered as ‘Dad’s python story’.

“
…w
e had stored rice, beans and all can foods in there whereupon, one day we found a friendly python curled up on a sac of rice. A screech from my mother’s mouth alerted our servant, Abdul, among many other people within earshot, that something was amiss. Pythons do not bite, they are not venomous and they are a God-sent when you have rats in your place—and we did. As far as Abdul was concerned however, a snake was a snake, and it didn’t have a place in anyone’s home. So, armed of a kitchen knife he approached the pantry trembling from head to toe; the poor man was scared stiff. Fortunately, my father was home and he stopped him before the man had time to open the pantry door. He told him to get an empty burlap sac and to get out of the way. I didn’t realize how agile my father was until that day. I saw him enter the pantry quietly and in one swift move, envelope the coiled snake into the bag. Once caught, the reptile shook vigorously and my father almost lost his grip on the string knot, with which he tied the bag closed. He then handed the bag to Abdul, told him to dump its content onto the garbage heap outside, and let the beast feast on whatever prey he could find.  Abdul took the bag reluctantly and did as asked. From the balcony, my parents and I saw him open the bag and running away as fast as he could, yelling something in Arabic,
which really didn’t sound too good from where we stood. When he got home, he told my father that leaving a live snake around the premises was no good; it was “bad luck,” he said. Nevertheless, our luck held and the rats’ luck didn’t—it was the purgatory for them.
”

In and around the apartment complex and school grounds
, Talya had learned not to mock poverty or loneliness and to be thankful for the small favours God had bestowed upon her occasionally. It was also where she had learned to appreciate life and living with people of every colour, race or creed. Her father had devoted his entire life to relieve people’s misery and sickness. In those days it didn’t matter that she was the daughter of a surgeon, what mattered was that she was the daughter of the man who had lived near and among those who were in need.

There were people, many people coming and going throughout the grounds of the complex on that afternoon. Children were playing in the carports below the buildings and among the dirt piles that were once flowerbeds between the apartment blocks. Some were looking at the car with amused curiosity and although it was not uncommon for a limo to come down the drive, it would rarely have gone beyond the last house in the row. Talya put her hand to her face for the smell coming through the car window was almost unbearable. 

The pungent odour reminded
her
of the Mechoui
—
the feast celebrating the end of the Ramadan.
“…
Early that year, and for the first time in the history of the schools, the Mechoui had been held in the courtyard between the buildings. The preparation leading to the feast was something that would remain etched in her memory forever for she had watched the scene from the balcony. According to the Islamic tradition, the men slice the goats’ throat open, carve their insides out and skin them under the vigilant guise of the religious men of the community. The sacrifices concluded; the women take the beasts’ innards to cook them with the rice dish served with the meal. The men then stretch the skins between poles to dry. As soon as the sun has burnt all flesh remnants out of them and the flies are satiated, the women tan the pelts and use them in the making of various household items.

“
Meanwhile, the men had attached the carcasses to the spits to broil over hot embers for several hours.

“
That night, there were six spits roasting across the courtyard. The women dressed in their traditional grand bou-bou gowns came onto the grounds later, holding every cooked dish that was to accompany the meal, atop their heads. Shortly after sunset, following prayer, the men arrived, each holding fly swatters or a drum; music and dances were to conclude the festivities late into the night. As much as Talya found the preparation repulsive and horrible, as much as she enjoyed sitting down with her school friends in front of the spit, and partake of a meal that proved to be delicious. The whole celebration was a night to remember; they laughed, and her girlfriend, Leha, danced with the women at the beat of the drums, while Talya’s father could not stop snapping his camera.
”

They had stopped in front of the school campus gate, after leaving the apartment complex behind them, when Khumar got out of the car to talk to the guard. Seeing that such a car as theirs, displaying flags of three countries on its hood, wanted access would have made him open the gate anyway. Only a word or two in his ear sufficed to have the man release the padlock and draw open the two large iron doors in front of them. They only rode for a minute or two when Talya saw the
red field
stretch before her eyes.  It was now surrounded of huge Sorbier trees and luxuriant vegetation. She wanted to get out of the car immediately. 

When the driver stopped to let her out, Samir tried to hold her back.  “Princess, please wait
…
” But she had already opened her door and had stepped out of the limo. 

With Samir at her side, she walked across the
red field
, which was only a laterite patch of dirt near the school buildings, to feel the heat of the sun descend on her and the pebbles and sand get into her sandals as they did
so long
ago
.  They used to play ball in the
red field
and the boys would play soccer and train for the next school meet, or they would even sit at the edge of the field of a morning to read some of their books before the day’s exams. 

From that moment, Talya was back on the morning of her nightmare. 

Samir took her hand and they walked together in the direction of the school. Talya then began
relating
the events that occurred on that Ju
ne
day.

“It was seven o’clock in the morning.  I was wearing my school uniform, with sandals on my feet.  As I was crossing the red field I saw my gym instructor coming down from the school to meet me.

“We said good morning and then he asked me if I’d like to go to the gym that afternoon. He said he wanted to get me into the pool so I could get on with my training to cross the five miles at the competition the following week.

“I was thrilled at the prospect of being chosen to swim with the school team, and I accepted readily. M
r.
Deschamps had ta
ken
me to the pool many times before that day, and I was looking forward to the training every time.

“When we reached the school building I found my friend, Leha, waiting for me, as she did every day, leaning against one of the columns punctuating the veranda. 

“The classrooms were large enough, to sit thirty students comfortably. They were the same as any classroom I have ever known.”

Talya entered her classroom and sat on the stage-like platform, her back to the wall where the blackboard used to be, and faced the now empty and desolate-looking room.  The then yellow walls and varnished louvered doors and blinds had turned grey with age. Samir sat beside her.  He looked at her and continued to listen.

“It was three o’clock in the afternoon when the bell rang announcing the end of the school day. I picked up my books and bag, and walked with Leha to the parking lot where I knew Mr. Deschamps would be waiting for us.