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Accra Noir. Группа авторов
Читать онлайн.Название Accra Noir
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781617758942
Автор произведения Группа авторов
Жанр Языкознание
Серия Akashic Noir
Издательство Ingram
3
A Woman and a Man
—Sometimes we mourn alone. Sometimes we have no right to mourn. My grandmother told me to be merciful to sad women who we want to call mad. She said everybody has a reason when they are mad. Sometimes they are allowed to tell why and many times they are not. She asked me if I remember when she was always singing and crying when I was growing up. I said yes. I remember because for years she was sad. So sad. So she told me that she was not mad. She said her boyfriend was murdered. I was frightened by this. I said, “How could you have a boyfriend?” She said it was before she met my grandfather. He was her age. When she was studying at the University of Science and Technology in Kumasi, he was at school in Achimota. And he would come and visit her. She looked in my face and said, “Sometimes a touch leaves a scar you always touch,” and I knew she was telling me that they slept together. Then they broke up because she thought she was pregnant and told him and it did not make him happy, and he thought she was too familiar with one of her teachers. They grew angry and he left. Then he had to hurry to Lomé where there was a new political time. He became one of the leaders and married a girl from Togo. My grandmother went with my grandfather. Then this boyfriend was killed in a coup. He was apparently hiding in his home while they took his wife from the house. And then she looked back and saw him on the roof and maybe her face betrayed her and the soldiers looked. They found him. They shot him. My grandmother said the woman was a fool. I could not understand her anger. And so she cried, she said, and was sick for five years. She told nobody. It was her only love. She said, “Be merciful to women.” We love ghosts. We women love ghosts. They stay with us for a long time. She told me that, you know? She saw me and she could tell that I was living with a ghost.
—A man?
—It is not always like that.
—People die.
—Yes, but sometimes you feel if it wasn’t for you . . .
—But she wasn’t responsible for the coup.
—No, but she still loved him, and so she couldn’t mourn, even though she mourned.
—So you are mourning.
—I am a cook.
—I think we are in agreement that everybody is more than they say they are.
4
A Man and a Woman
—This stew is good.
—Uhhmmm, the plantain is fresh, that is why . . .
—Pepper, it’s good, you can cook.
—I am a woman.
—But it is not a given.
—Oh, your wife, she can’t cook?
—A lot of assuming.
—So she can cook.
—Who said I have a wife?
—Because you are asking me that question.
—I think you are the detective.
—Well, you said I was educated, so . . .
—Where is the boy’s mother?
—She left.
—She left him?
—She left all of us. She left everything.
—What does that mean?
—Sometimes the heaviness of life is so much that you have to leave. Some of us leave one place and go to another. Some of us stay in one place but go away. She stayed in one place, but she left. You understand that, I know you do.
—And his father?
—Men are always leaving. That one is not very remarkable.
5
A Woman and a Man
—If there is nobody waiting for you . . .
—Who said there was nobody?
—You have not looked at your phone since you came here. It is late.
—It would be impolite.
—Then maybe somebody is waiting for you.
—So you think there is?
—You are a man with a satisfied body. Clean-shaven, starched shirt, clean socks, and polished shoes, but not too polished, and there is neglect, as if somebody forgot to iron the trousers, and you are not worried about impressing somebody that you are cared for. A maid does not forget to iron your clothes. A wife will smile and say sorry, and quarrel with you about doing it yourself. You sit like a satisfied man.
—You mean I am fat.
—I mean you are satisfied.
—Can I be honest?
—We are alone now.
—Does that not worry you?
—Now why would you do that? Why say something like that . . .
—I am sorry, I did not mean . . .
—Look, I can tell you are here for a reason, I don’t believe you . . .
—I did not mean to suggest . . .
—You meant to frighten me a little. Or a lot. If you did not know this, if you say it was accidental, then you don’t even know how this power of threat of violence is deep inside you. You think you are a threat by being yourself, but it does not frighten you because you are so arrogant and so sure of your power that you do not fear that I might be afraid of you.
—You are making too much of it.
—And you are not a minister, not a prophet.
—As I drove here, I saw you standing in this place with all these trees. I have never been here before. I saw the blue cloth you had around you. The shirt you are wearing—a tailored men’s shirt, unbuttoned low enough for me to see the filigree of your black brassiere. And I could see your eyes, heavy with knowledge, and your face of carved ebony—and I said, “Beautiful,” because that was the easy word. The hard word was unreachable. I saw the scarf. I saw you before I got here. This is not to frighten you. It is to frighten me.
6
A Man and a Woman
—This was very good.
—Hold your hand out.
—Thank you, thank you.
—Here