Write In Maine
Here is a 700 word excert from my latest work in progress. Simply titled
Linda
, for the present. This will likely change before the manuscript is completed. Hope you enjoy. Would appreciate any feedback.
Dela had traveled between the US and his country, that first year. Linda and the children were becoming accustomed to life without him, during a prolonged stay in the US during his second year as Ambassador. The old lady who performed the female circumsism was in the village during Dela’s last trip home. Dela, had brought her to his house. “Esiankiki has come to do the operation of closure for you,” he told his young wife, unable to meet her eyes.
Silently, Linda retreated and privately washed her privates. She then returned and lay down on an old, but clean, mat and waited. Esiankiki, she thought, I never knew her name. Esiankiki, her name means young maiden. Should it not be ’pain of young maiden’? Have not we always simply called her ’the old lady of circumcision’? Linda removed her spirit to another plane. Only once was she brought back to her body, hearing her own screams as the old lady pushed her needle through both lips of Linda’s vulva, with one stitch. Linda was lost in thought of the American Lady missionary. She tried to imagine her life in the US. She gathered the puzzle pieces from the American Lady, along with pieces from Dela. She tried to fit them all together to form a clear picture of this lady’s life. She found she could not do it. She did, however, find that she had pieced together small portions of the picture. She next tried to fit herself and her two precious little girls into the puzzle. The girls were two years old now. Thoughts of them undergoing the ceremony of circumcision thrust Linda back into the consciousness of her body. She cried silent tears. She did not know if these tears were for her pain, or, for the pain to come, for her children.
This operation had been a surprise to Linda. It was an accepted custom, among her people, for a husband to have this procedure performed, on his wife, if he was planning to go away for an extended period of time. Linda had to admit, it was looking more and more like Dela would be spending most of his time in the US. But he knows, she cried to herself late that night, he knows I would never disgrace him or our family, by laying with another….He knows! The injustice of it overwhelmed her. She wept. Dela awoke, feeling her convulsing body next to his.
“What is wrong wife?”
Linda could not answer, so she rolled onto her side and embraced Dela with her full body length. Dela thought, My poor wife. She is tormented that I will leave tomorrow. “This is not the life I wanted to give you and the girls,” he stated simply, then slept.
Linda had thrust herself into motherhood with a vehemence. She loved her children more than anything. They were bright, happy children. Dela had attended to Linda’s education personally. She had been capable of speaking not only the language of her people; she was fluent in French, also. Her skills at reading and writing, however, had been minimal. Dela, finding her a dedicated student, and able to learn at an accelerated pace, delighted in teaching her. She could now also speak English and was learning to write it. She spoke to her two-year-old daughters in all three languages. Each day had its own language. Sundays were the day of her native language. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were days of French. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were dedicated to English. While Bella and Kimbiri were naturally more conversant in their own native tongue, they were beginning to show a real apprehension in French and even English, after the months of training their mother had practiced. And the resulting fluency that Linda was gaining herself, was most rewarding.
One night, as Linda knelt with the girls in prayer, a man arrived at their domain. “Your husband has asked for you to join him in the US. The President has arranged it. I will be back tomorrow at noon. I will escort you and your children to the airport.”
The young mother went to her parents and told them her news. She tried to hide from them, her excitement. They would never understand if she were anything but sad to leave her parents, her village, her home.
Late at night, with their bags packed, Linda lay awake staring at her daughters. Dare she hope? Dare she dream of a life in the United States for her children? No. They would have to return, all too soon. And circumcision would await them…..Linda rose in the early morning hours, awakening her children. “We must go see all our relatives and friends. We must tell them all our news and say our good-byes.” The children were sad and cried during some of the good-byes.
Sadness forgotten, adrenalin pumping, the girls were barely containable on their trip to the airport. Linda exhausted from her sleepless night, chastised the girls--in English. They understood and settled down. “Will we see Daddy tomorrow, Mommy?”
“Probably the day after tomorrow, darling.”
Linda and the children settled into their new American home, probably feeling much like Cindarella when she moved into the castle. They adjusted quickly, as Linda sculpted a new life for her family. She took the girls to story time at the library. They watched puppet shows and checked out books by the armload--daily. They had a TV in their apartment. The girls shouted with glee watching cartoons. Bella was in love with Luke on The Dukes of Hazard. Linda sought ways to divert the girls attention away from the TV. While it was a novelty for her too, she thought there were better ways to stimulate their minds and perhaps better influences, to be found, on their moral character. Back in their homeland, very few people owned TVs-- nation wide, fewer than one out of every 1000 people. No one in their village. But Linda had long ago adjusted to being the exception to the rule. She was educated and could read and write, in a world where less than one quarter of the people were literate. Her parents had a telephone, the only one in her village. Her parents received the newspaper. She had never seen anyone else receive a newspaper--that is until she married Dela. Dela kept up on the news. He subscribed to several newspapers; and, he had a radio which he tuned in every morning and every night. Dela was a voracious reader and had a veritable library of his own.
Linda was grateful when it became obvious that Dela was not going to approach her for sexual relations. She had been stitched closed, but she presumed he could have a procedure done, even in this foreign country, to open her. Still, he made no mention of it. He appeared over joyed at having the girls and Linda with him. He played and sang and walked with them. Sometimes they spent all of a Sunday afternoon in a children’s park. None of them had ever know such a happy life. They were a close knit family now. After six months had passed, Linda and her daughters appeared very much like an American family, as they shopped, checked out their books at the library, and attended Sunday morning Mass. Linda had feared, in the beginning, that her husband would not approve of the Americanizing.
One night, she rolled over to him as he laid down the book he had been reading. “Husband, we are changing. We are becoming more and more Americanized. Does this disturb you?”
“No wife………..Sometimes I am sad to think that our children will loose many of the good things from our culture, but I have to believe that what they are gaining is worth the price.”
“Dela, you sound as if this is all permanent. It is not. Eventually, we will return to Burkina Faso.”
“My wife, you must listen to me carefully. I have so much that I have to tell you. So much that I want you to know, and sadly, much I wish you would never have to learn. You are my wife and I can do no less than tell you the truth. Be strong my wife. This is to be a difficult, tumultuous time in our lives.”
“My husband, you are frightening me…..No, no. I will not be frightened. God has been good to me in my life, especially in my marriage to you. I will be strong for you, for the girls, and for myself. If I am not strong, I am not myself. You and the children deserve the real me. Please, my husband, unburden yourself to me. Let me be your true other half. I am here for you.” With that Linda was to remain silent for the better part of the next hour. Dela told his story in a monotone, stopping only once for a brief period of weeping. Linda experienced many varying emotions during his telling, but held it all in.
The most shocking part for Linda was hearing her husband admit to adultery. “I went out for a night of dining, with a friend of mine from the embassy. We drank much wine throughout the meal. After we left the restaurant, he drove us to a bar.” (Dela had stopped here in his story, to give Linda a brief description ‘bar’) “We did more drinking in this bar and were eventually approached by two American women. My friend was enjoying their sexual advances. I remained cordial but unresponsive, in the beginning. The woman, who had partnered herself with me, deceased her sexual flirtation and conversed intellectually with me. Curious about our culture, she asked a lot of questions. She had heard of circumcision in Africa. She asked me if this was part of the culture in my village. My wife, I was ashamed to tell her ‘yes’. The shame surprised me. We discussed the reasons for this procedure and she gave me valid reasons why a woman should never undergo such. Eventually, she offered to show me what our women give up, in their lives, when they have this done. She said, ‘You men think you come out the winners. Ha! Let me show you what you are missing!’ Oh Godddd….” It was at this point that Dela had wept. As his convulsing body quieted, he continued his story. He told his wife of the woman’s erect clitoris and her subsequent orgasm. Linda knew her husband well and knew that, in the telling, he had become aroused.
“I have not mentioned sexual relations with you my wife, nor the possibility of having you opened. I do not wish to come to you as an adulterer. I do not wish to even come to you otherwise, if it is unpleasant for you. Can you ever forgive our people for what they have done to you? Can you ever forgive me?”
“Yes. Our people do this in ignorance. But you my husband, I am curious. Why did you do this? I could better understand if I thought you were simply lonely and needed release.” She went silent again, giving him the time and space to answer.
“I have always had nagging feelings about this procedure. Since our daughters were born, I have given much thought to the day of their circumcision. This encounter with the American woman was really a test. I had to find out if we were doing the right thing……..or not…..We are not wife. I will not have my daughters mutilated. I beg your forgiveness for the adultery, but above all for your multilation! You never have to be opened again, if that is your desire. I give you my word, I will understand, and I will accept your will. Do not answer now. Contemplate.”
Next, Dela confided in Linda, “I am working on a plan. I am arranging things so that you and the girls can stay in America.”
“Husband! Not without you?”
“I am not sure yet. But, I give you my word, I will try to arrange it so that we can stay here as a family. Now I must tell you more news. I received a call today from Burkina Faso. They have requested that I return for a 2 day briefing, before my meeting with the American President next week.”
“I did not know you were meeting with the American President.”
“Yes, it is a meeting where I am approaching him for more monies for our country. Our President wants me to be briefed on what exactly to ask for. He wants me to have materials to show our plans. One of our largest requests is for our Electric future. Since I am an electrical engineer, he feels I am best suited to propose our plans and requests, in this massive endeavor. We have big plans, wife, and they have monumental possibilities for our country. It is imperative that I sell the importance of this plan, to the American benefactors.”
“When will we go husband?”
“I go alone, wife. Tomorrow or the next day. I am not sure yet. Lindiwe,” her ears pinned back; he so seldom called her by name, she knew this must be important. Her body began to tremble. He did not notice.
“It is very important that you listen to my words. You must remain here in the US with the children. Never return to Burkina Faso. Never. No matter what happens. No matter what they tell you. Find a way, if I am not here to arrange it. Find a way. Do you understand?”
She had promised him she would not be fearful….“I understand, but may I ask of you why you talk like this? Is there more that you tell me not?”
“No wife. Just a feeling. You promised not to be frightened. Now I must take a lesson from you. I must put aside my fears and do what is best for my country……..above all, what is best for my family………..We must sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow. I must arrange my flight back to our….our country….of origin.” He sighed, shut out the light, and slept. Linda listened until she heard his breathing slow and deep. She rose up from their bed and tiptoed into her daughters’ bedroom. She looked down upon their angelic, sleeping faces. Tears streamed as she fell to her knees and thanked God. Her prayer had been answered. She knew it. It had begun when she married Dela. His name meant ‘savior’. He had been her savior. The savior of her girl children. “Forgive me heavenly Father. I lost my faith in you. I mistrusted you when you gave me girl children. Still you loved me. You granted my petition. Forgive me Father,” she wept.
Early in the morning hours, Linda crept back to the side of her slumbering husband. As she nestled close to him, she uttered another prayer of thanksgiving.
