Nuruddin Farah - Knots

An overwhelming anxiety rushes in on her, inundating her with a mix of contriteness and helplessness: contrite, because she knows that she has never been truthful with Jiijo; helpless, because now that things have been set in motion, there is no further room for maneuver, none whatsoever. Nor is there anything she can do for Jiijo until Gudcur’s situation becomes clear. If he is dead and the property is entirely at her disposal, then she is not averse to having Jiijo move into the property as a caretaker of sorts. But if Gudcur is alive and constitutes a threat, then surely it will not be wise to have anything to do with her. Not that she wants to count her chickens before her eggs hatch, but she is certain that with the property back in her hands, she will delight in rehearsing the play in the ballroom. Ideally, she will want the kitchen, which will feed everyone, to be run, and who better than Jiijo, with a bit of help from Kiin’s chef, to do so.

To achieve her daring plan and make the production of her play a success, she will need more than a ballroom and a posse of untrained but willing boys eager to accommodate her wishes. Her spirits sagging as though in mild despair, she falls prey to her worry of finding someone to furnish her with as much intellectual input as she needs. Of the people whom she has met up to now, she can name only four who might supply her with the cerebral companionship essential to her in her present situation: Kiin, Bile, Seamus, and, in his own way, Gacal. Every one of these four individuals is indispensable. Seamus will provide much needed succor, especially in matters of a technical nature such as carving the masks, not to mention some of her other requirements: carpentry, stage design, lighting. She will expect a lot of goodwill from Kiin, Bile, and Gacal, to each of whom she will assign a task. A friendship with Bile is worth cultivating. This is why she must call on him at the first opportunity.

Cambara feels as though she has only just now come to recognize that many a watershed moment since her arrival has passed without her becoming aware of its passage and without her making full use of it. She senses, too, that her coming here and hitting it off with Kiin has been replete with turning points, each one of them as important as the milestone that has preceded it, and as significant in her doings as the benchmark that came after it. Now she is in a catching-up mood, ringing Raxma and retrieving the remainder of her stuff. She is scampering about in her haste to make up for lost time in much the same way as someone running after her future before it has become part of the present or the past.

Her sudden worry about the time she has so far wasted and the opportunities she has missed starts to make her so restless that she behaves as though a black ant has pricked her. Stung into action, she pulls out her mobile phone and rings Bile’s number.

Dajaal answers and then transfers her not to Bile but to Seamus, who tells her that Bile is indisposed at present and that he will give him her warm wishes when he speaks to him. He also tells her how happy he is that she has called, because in fact he has been meaning to do just that. “I have something to show you,” he says. “When and where can we meet?”

“Meet you at yours tomorrow a.m.?” she asks.

“At ten, if that is okay.”

“Ten it is.”

“Okey-dokey. See you then.”

She says, “Remember me to Bile, please.”

“Will do,” he says.

She is tempted to offer to call on Bile right away, but she keeps her enthusiasm in check, fearing that Seamus might think of her as very forward. How she would like to wrap her body around Bile! She is convinced this would ease her own heartache at the same time as it would relieve Bile’s pain.

Then she remembers the suitcases that are waiting to be picked up from Zaak’s. So she phones Kiin as part of her effort to speed things up. She stops just in time before letting it slip about her telephone conversation with Raxma because Kiin thinks it unwise to involve anyone else.

“A favor please,” she says.

“Ask and it’ll be done,” Kiin says.

Can Kiin spare the four-wheel-drive truck and several of her armed youths, because she intends to retrieve the remainder of her possessions from Zaak’s place? Again, she holds out on Kiin. She does not tell her of her plans to bring SilkHair, whom Cambara wants to entice away from Zaak’s team. What use will SilkHair, a gun-toting teenager, serve? Potential playmate and companion to Gacal?

With Gacal’s name sweetening her present assignment to retrieve her stuff and possibly running into Zaak, she hopes that she will stay the course, brave in her desire to muscle back into his house. She will not hem and haw if he provokes her; she might even take delight in rubbing it in and inform him that she is doing very well without him on all fronts, thank you very much.

When Kiin rings to confirm that the truck is fueled and ready to go, with its armed escorts mounted and waiting by the gate, Cambara says, “Thanks. Be down in a minute.”

As she hands her keys over to the receptionist, Cambara hears a cold diesel engine starting, and then the head of hotel security calling to the youths and instructing them to get a move on. “Quick, quick. Madam is on her way.”

As she arrives on the scene, she stops a meter or so from the truck when she sees the driver standing by the door, keeping it open, and bowing his head. This puts Cambara in mind of a man pleased with the manner in which he is acquitting himself.

She mumbles her thanks as she climbs into the truck, then nods and again murmurs something when he closes the door after her. What a ritual, she thinks. You can be sure that Kiin has instructed every one of them to do Cambara’s bidding and to be very polite and accommodating to her at all times. The head of the security detail sits up front, next to the driver in the cabin from where he is admonishing the five youths, three of them heavily armed, two only lightly. The youths have been standing idly by, and he is now telling them to mount the roof of the vehicle, presto, and they do. She owes it all to Kiin for smoothing her way around all manner of difficulties so she may go about her business without any hitches.

Cambara asks the head of security if he remembers how to get to Zaak’s place; he was with her in the same truck the first time. He nods, and she sits back, preparatory to the truck moving, ready, in her mind, for all eventualities. It is just when she is relaxed and satisfied enough with the agreeable way that things have gone that her mind is visited by the presentiment that something terrible might happen, not only to her but to Kiin’s men and truck too. She prays that Zaak’s armed bodyguards and Kiin’s will not trigger off a battle in which lives are lost and properties destroyed. How tragic it would be if a fierce gunfight were to ensue as a consequence of her desire to retrieve her belongings, among them a suitcase containing a dress for the party in the evening!

She braces her fearlessness, her inner strength, her faith, and the rightness of her actions against the cowardly behavior of a handful of Gudcurs who have taken the entire country hostage. Nothing causes her as much worry as coming face to face with Gudcur or his kind in a time and setting of their choosing. That will no doubt have the detrimental effect of immediately endangering and compromising her life. Imagine her delight, her surprise when Kiin and her associates have taken upon themselves to facilitate handing the property over to her, despite the risk to their lives or businesses. And here she is all agitated, because she has no idea how to explain away her absence to Zaak or why she hasn’t been in touch with him or whether she will apologize to him for her failure to do so. When, if truth be told, she cannot wait to sever all relations with him forthwith.