Sofia was alone. As she sat there, staring into the flames, she realised that her homesickness was as much due to wanting to meet the fire as to anything else. Now, for the first time – as she sat in the warm darkness outside the hut, listening to drums thumping in the distance – she could think seriously about everything that had happened. And it wasn’t only Muazena and Hapakatanda’s faces she thought she could see faintly amongst the flames – now Maria’s face was there too. Maria, who was now somewhere among the dead. It gave Sofia a sense of relief to think that Maria had Muazena and Hapakatanda close to her.
It was as if she could hear Maria’s voice. She was saying that it wasn’t Sofia’s fault that she was dead. No one could have known there would be a mine at the very place where Sofia placed her right foot. It wasn’t her fault.
When Sofia finally went to bed, the fire had burnt down to smouldering coals. Maybe it had been to hear Maria’s voice from among the flames that she’d come home? If that was true, then she had made the right decision – in which case, Veronica would have no right to be angry with her either.
The next day, Sofia discovered she need never have worried about finding money for the trip back. José-Maria heard that Sofia had come for a visit and turned up on the road. He crouched down next to her and smiled.
‘I knew you’d get through this,’ he said. ‘You’ll be able to come back again soon.’
Then he said the best thing of all.
‘I’m going to the city this afternoon. You can come with me.’
In the afternoon, Lydia gave Sofia a basket of vegetables. Then José-Maria arrived with his car and it was time to leave. Sofia said goodbye and looked at the black remains of the fire.
‘I’ll be back soon, Maria,’ she whispered.
That evening, back in her lonely room, she felt things would be easier now that she knew she would soon be going home for good.
Not only that, but she had talked to Maria. Maria was with Muazena and Hapakatanda. She would be safe there. As safe as you can be when you are dead.
The worst part was over – her worries, her loneliness. She patted Kukula and Xitsongo where they lay next to her on the bed.
They really had become her best friends.
*Means ‘short’ and ‘long’ in Sofia’s language
CHAPTER NINE
One day, the training was over.
Sofia realised that time – time that seemed to both exist and not exist – had surprised her again. In the end, time had passed so quickly that she hadn’t even thought about it.
Master Emilio and Doctor Raul came into the hall where she was walking back and forth under the watchful eye of Benthino. They stood watching her and then, when she sat down for a rest, they said she didn’t need to practise any longer. She could now go home without having to come back.
Sofia was confused. Could it really be true? Was her long loneliness over?
‘Your new friends are taking good care of you already,’ Doctor Raul said, pointing to her legs.
‘In a few years you’ll have to come back,’ Master Emilio said. ‘But not until you’ve grown so much that you need new legs.’
‘I can’t teach her any more,’ Benthino said. ‘I have many people waiting in line to learn how to walk.’
‘I’ll drive you home myself,’ said Doctor Raul. ‘Tomorrow I’ll come and pick you up from the home where you’re staying.’
That day, several of the nurses who had taken care of Sofia during that first difficult time came to greet her. There was Marta and Celeste and Mariza. Sofia felt shy and didn’t know what to say. In the afternoon, just before the car came to fetch her, she hurried outside, hopping on her crutches, to the women who sat on the street selling their goods. Miranda was there, and so were all the others. When Sofia told them she was going home a loud racket broke out. They all talked and shouted at once, and wished her good luck. Sofia felt shy all over again.
When she got back to the home for the old and the sick, the hardest part was yet to come. She had to say goodbye to Veronica, who had been so helpful and had been like her second mother for such a long time. Sofia would miss her in a special way, almost in the way she missed those who’d been left behind in the burnt village they’d once fled. But Veronica just seemed to be happy for Sofia that she could finally go home.
‘I’m sure you’ll come by to say hello,’ she said.
Sofia nodded but she wondered whether that would ever happen. Now that she was leaving the city she found it difficult to imagine that she would ever come back. She’d never become used to the tall buildings, to the many cars and the multitudes of strangers.
Sofia wanted to live amongst people who had names and who would be her friends even if they weren’t members of her family. Once, long ago, when they had still been running away, she had thought that the city would be something exciting: it was something she had longed to see in the same way that she’d longed to see the ocean. But there was a difference between the ocean and the city. The difference was inside her. She wanted to leave the city; but she wanted to see the ocean again.
She also remembered the old woman they’d met while they were fleeing – the one who’d sat down one day and never got up again. ‘We don’t have legs that are made to walk to the city,’ she had said. Even so, Sofia had gone to the city after all – and it was to get new legs!
She collected her few belongings and sat in the doorway to watch the sun set. In every doorway along the verandah she saw heads and huddled bodies. Most of them were old men, weak and blind, who were missing an arm or a leg. Many of them had leprosy and they would probably never leave. They had nowhere to go, no place to return to.
For the very last time, Veronica arrived with a plate. Sofia ate and Veronica sat beside her in the doorway.
‘Who will live here after me?’ Sofia asked.
‘There’ll always be someone,’ Veronica answered.
There had been something on Sofia’s mind all afternoon. She thought that now was the time to mention it to Veronica.
‘If Hortensia comes back,’ she said, ‘say hello to her from me.’
For a moment it looked as though Veronica didn’t remember who Hortensia was. But suddenly she nodded.
‘Hortensia,’ she said. ‘I’d almost forgotten her. But if she comes back, of course I’ll say hello from you.’
Dusk fell. It grew dark. Sofia couldn’t wait for morning to come so that she could go home with Doctor Raul, and she fell asleep early that night
Next day she left the city. Doctor Raul came to pick her up. It was the first time she’d seen him without his white doctor’s coat. His car was small and old. The bumper hung from a wire, one of the headlights was gone and, when Sofia got in, the car wouldn’t start. Doctor Raul waved his arms in despair. Then he swore. Although he looked angry, Sofia couldn’t help laughing. They got help from some boys to push-start the car. Sofia thought it was strange that a doctor, who probably had plenty of money, had such an old and useless car, but she didn’t say anything. Doctor Raul sat behind the wheel and sang. From time to time he shouted at other drivers when he thought they’d done something wrong.
At one stage, when they had stopped at a red light, he turned and smiled at her.
‘I’m off today,’ he said, ‘and that’s why I can drive you home. Today I’m your private motorista.’
They left the city. As they passed the open fields, Sofia saw women bending over their hoes and noticed how she longed to have soil on her hands again. She wished she could sing along with Doctor Raul, but she didn’t dare. So she sang inside instead.
At the top of a hill they got a puncture. The car suddenly started shaking and Doctor Raul pulled over to the side of the road. He got out and walked around the car. Sofia peered through the car window and saw him kick one of the back tyres.
‘Do you know how to change tyres on a car?’ he asked. ‘I have no idea.’ Sofia shook her head.
Although getting in and out of cars was hard for
her, she opened the door, leaned on one of the crutches and managed to get herself out onto the road without falling over. Meanwhile, Doctor Raul was rummaging through the boot in search of the spare tyre and his tools. His white shirt was already dirty.
‘I can operate on human beings,’ he said. ‘But I can’t change the tyres on a car.’
‘I can’t operate or change tyres,’ Sofia said. Then she waved one of her crutches at a passing car.
‘What are you doing?’ Doctor Raul asked.
‘If you can’t do something yourself, you should ask someone else to help you,’ Sofia said.
She waved with the crutch again. A car pulled over behind them. A man got out and asked what had happened. Then he changed the tyre. Sofia watched with interest. If she was ever going to go somewhere in Doctor Raul’s old car again she’d better learn how to change a flat tyre. Doctor Raul wanted to pay the man for his help, but he just waved his arms and grinned.
‘Maybe I’ll operate on you one day,’ Doctor Raul said.
‘I’d rather not,’ the man said. ‘I’m not ill.’
Sofia got into the back seat again while the man helped to push the car.
It wasn’t long before they reached Boane and turned off the main road. They drove over the Impamputo River. The bridge was narrow, and Doctor Raul had to wait until a herd of goats had crossed. Sofia watched children playing in the water. Further away, a naked man stood washing himself and, at the foot of the bridge, some women were washing clothes. Sofia looked at everything that was going on and thought, I can do that. I can do that. And that. And that.
There were really only a few things she would never be able to do again – dance and run.
That made her sad – especially the fact that she could never dance. To run wasn’t so important, but never to stand with the other women in a circle and dance . . .
There was one other thought in her head, a thought she almost didn’t dare to think. What would happen when she was grown up? Would there be a man who would want to marry her – in spite of her artificial legs, and despite the fact that she couldn’t dance? Would she be able to have children? Or would she live her whole life without ever being able to carry her own child on her back?
She didn’t want to think about it. That would be tempting fate.
They had left the river behind them. The road was now narrow and full of holes. Doctor Raul had wound up the window so that the whirling dust wouldn’t get in. Sofia realised she must have travelled this road before, in the opposite direction, although she couldn’t remember it. After the accident. She had so many questions that she wanted answered. There was still so much she didn’t know.
They arrived on the outskirts of the village.
‘You’ll have to show me the way now,’ Doctor Raul said. ‘I can’t find my way from here.’
Sofia showed him where to drive and before long they had arrived. But to Sofia’s disappointment there was no one about. One of the neighbours came to greet her. Sofia asked after Alfredo. She realised that Mama Lydia must be out working on the fields.
‘Alfredo is with your mother today,’ the neighbour said.
Doctor Raul stood beside the car looking thoughtfully at the hut where Sofia lived. He looked at the cracked straw walls and knew that when the rains came they would be lying on a damp dirt floor with rain dripping through the bad roof. Sofia came from a poor family, the poorest of the poor. Still, he knew she was happy to be home.
Sofia is strong, he thought. She’ll manage.
Even so, he felt sad about the life that lay ahead of her. A life filled with struggle. The life of the poor.
He said goodbye to Sofia.
‘I hope everything goes well,’ he said. ‘When I have the time, I’ll come and visit you.’
Sofia looked down shyly. She was almost ashamed to have caused Doctor Raul so much trouble. He’d had to stoop over her to operate. Surely he had more important people to take care of.
She waved as he drove off.
She wondered if she would ever see him again.
For the rest of the day, Sofia sat in the shade of the tree beside the hut, enjoying being home. From time to time somebody would stop on the road and look at her as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Then they’d come across to her and she had to describe what had happened to her, and show off her new legs, over and over again. Every time a new person asked to hear what had happened since the accident, she noticed that she told them less and less. She would rather they didn’t ask anything at all.
It would have been better if everyone forgot. If everyone forgot apart from herself. Because she couldn’t forget. If she forgot, then she would forget Maria too. And that was never going to happen.
Never, for as long as she lived.
It was already late in the afternoon when Sofia finally saw Lydia on the road. Alfredo was running along beside her. Sofia got up from the ground and waved. Alfredo saw her first. He tugged at Lydia’s arm and pointed.
Then Sofia noticed that Lydia was carrying a child on her back. She’d completely forgotten that Lydia was going to have a baby. She could feel her chest swell with happiness. A new family member. Was it a brother or a sister?
They hugged each other. Lydia stroked her, but Alfredo stayed in the background, shy to be seeing Sofia again. Then Lydia took the child off her back and handed it to Sofia, who sat down again.
‘Your brother,’ Lydia said and smiled. Sofia noticed that Lydia had lost several of her teeth.
Sofia took her brother. He was sleeping and was barely a month old. How long ago had it been since Sofia last saw Lydia? The days had all run together. She held her brother in her arms and felt great happiness.
‘What’s his name?’ she asked.
‘Faustino,’ Lydia said. ‘His father will come when we’re ready to eat.’
At last there would be an answer to Sofia’s curiosity. She would soon meet Lydia’s new man. It was an important moment. She noticed herself getting nervous. But she was glad at the same time. Everything would be so much easier with a man in the house.
Lydia began preparing dinner while Sofia sat holding her brother.
‘I can’t believe you’re back,’ Lydia said, over and over again. ‘I can’t believe you finally came back.’
Then Lydia turned serious. Sofia knew that she could switch from happy to serious faster than any person she knew.
‘But how are you going to manage?’ she asked.
At first Sofia didn’t understand what Lydia meant.
‘I can walk again,’ she said.
Lydia shook her head but she didn’t say anything else. Sofia felt a pain in her stomach. What did Lydia mean? Why shouldn’t she manage?
She never finished the thought.
A man suddenly appeared. They hadn’t noticed him approaching in the shadows beyond Sofia.
Alfredo ran into the hut.
Sofia immediately sensed that Alfredo was afraid of the man who’d arrived. The man was tall and solid. Sofia could tell from his breath that he’d been drinking tontonto.* He gave her such a piercing stare that she looked away.
‘Who is this?’ he asked.
Sofia stole a look at him as he gestured to Lydia to get up from the fire where she was cooking.
‘This is my daughter, Sofia,’ Lydia answered.
Sofia almost didn’t recognise her mother’s voice. It was different, weaker, as though someone had hit her.
The man took a step closer to Sofia.
‘So this is the one who was clumsy enough to step on a landmine?’ he said.
Sofia went cold.
‘And now she’s come back,’ said the man. ‘Now she’s here and wants to be fed. She’ll be walking with crutches for the rest of her life.’
The man disappeared around the back of the hut for a moment.
‘Don’t take any notice of what he says,’ Lydia whispered. ‘He says a lot of things when he’s been drinking. Apart from that, he’s nice.’
‘Is that my stepfather?’ Sofia asked.
Lydia nodded. Then she hurried back to the fire so that the food wouldn’t burn.
Alfredo peeked warily from the doorway. Sofia could see he was scared of his stepfather, Faustino’s father.
Sofia’s stomach hurt more and more. Why had Lydia found herself a man who was mean? Why wasn’t he happy to see her? Why did he say that she’d been clumsy when she stepped on the mine? But she tried to believe that what Lydia said was true. It was only when he’d been drinking tontonto that he was mean. It was only then that Alfredo was afraid.
But deep inside she had a feeling it wasn’t like that. Much later, several full moons later, she would understand that already, on that very first night, she had known she wouldn’t be able to stay.
The moment Lydia’s new man emerged from the shadows at the back of the hut, Sofia lost her home. Lydia’s man wanted Lydia, but not her children. Sofia had heard about this sort of thing before, about stepfathers who threw out the children a woman brought from a previous husband. But she had never thought it would happen to Lydia.
The next moment she was ashamed of her thoughts. Maybe it was true, after all, what Lydia had said. It was only when he’d been drinking tontonto that he was mean.
They ate dinner in silence. Alfredo sat as far from the fire as he could, hiding in the darkness near Sofia. Lydia called the man ‘Isaias’. Sofia got the impression that Lydia, too, was scared of him. She couldn’t understand why Lydia had chosen a man who didn’t like her children, a man she was afraid of. Sofia no longer recognised her mother. What had happened to her? She remembered how Lydia used to be, full of strength and joy, always talking, laughing, dancing, working. Now she sat hunched, her face seemed to have shrunk, and her teeth had started to fall out of her mouth.
When they’d eaten, Isaias went into the hut without a word. Before long they heard him snoring.
‘Is he going to live here?’ Sofia asked.
‘He’s going to look after us,’ Lydia answered. ‘You have to obey him, as you obey me.’