Imbolo Mbue - Behold the Dreamers

Cindy continued reading.

“In any way, madam. Even if it’s a job for me. Even if—”

“I’m sorry, okay? I really can’t help you. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Please, madam—”

“If you could leave so I can continue my reading, I’ll appreciate it.”

But she didn’t leave. Neni Jonga wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. She turned around, picked up her purse from the floor, and pulled out her cell phone. She opened it, and there, in the picture folder, she found what she was looking for. Her moment had arrived.

“That day, madam,” she said, her head no longer tilted, “I took a picture.”

Cindy looked up from her book.

“That day in the Hamptons,” Neni whispered, moving nearer to Cindy and holding her Motorola RAZR close to Cindy’s face, “I took this.”

Cindy looked at the photo. In an instant her face turned from gaunt to ghostly as she stared at an image of herself in a stupor, her mouth half open, drool running down her chin, her upper body splayed against the headboard, a bottle of pills and a half-empty bottle of wine on the nightstand.

“How dare you!”

Neni pulled back the phone and closed it.

“You think you can blackmail me? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m just a mother like you, madam,” Neni said, putting the phone back in her purse. “I’m only trying to do what I have to do for my family.”

“Get out of my house right now!”

Neni did not move.

Cindy stood up and repeated the command.

Neni remained seated and silent.

“Is everything okay?” Anna asked, running into the living room with a duster. She was talking to Cindy but looking at Neni, giving her an angry What the hell are you doing? look. Neni ignored her. This had nothing to do with her.

“Call 911!” Cindy shouted.

Still Neni did not budge. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Yes,” Anna said, rushing to the kitchen before stopping halfway. “What should I say?”

“An intruder! Hurry. Get me the phone! You want to learn a lesson, I’ll teach you a lesson!”

Neni remained seated. “I Googled it all, madam,” she said, smirking.

“Googled what!”

“Googled how to do this well … what to say when the police comes.”

“You useless piece of shit!”

“I know what the police will ask me. What I will say. Before the police comes I will delete the picture. When they come, I will say I don’t know what you’re talking about. Police will think you’re a crazy woman and they’ll call your husband. Or your friends. Then you will have to tell them. Is that what you want, Mrs. Edwards?”

“Anna! Phone!”

Anna ran to the living room with the kitchen phone and handed it to Cindy.

“Leave us,” Cindy said to Anna, who gave Neni another dirty look before hurrying out of the living room.

Cindy held the phone, looking at it as if punching 911 required a strength she couldn’t muster.

“Call them,” Neni said.

“Shut up!”

“What are you going to tell them, madam? That I have a picture of you doing drugs and drinking? I’m not afraid. You’re the one who should be afraid, because if the police takes me away everyone is going to know why.”

Cindy remained standing, clutching the phone and breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling like that of a woman sprinting up Mount Cameroon.

“Call them, madam,” Neni said again. “Please call them.”

If a glare could kill, dismember, and chop a body into fine bits, Neni’s body would have ended up a trillion little pieces because that was what Cindy’s eyes would have done to her. But a glare could do no such thing, and Neni could see she was halfway to victory.

Cindy threw the phone on the sofa and sat down trembling. “What do you want?” she said to Neni. Even her cheeks were trembling.

“Help, madam. Any kind of help.”

“And you think this is how to get it? This is what you had planned all along when I hired you? To blackmail me? To find a way to hurt my family?”

Neni shook her head. “I never took the picture for this reason, madam. I was afraid that day and I took the picture so that if something bad had happened to you, I will show the police what you were looking like when I entered the room and my hands will be clean. I didn’t even remember I had the picture till a few days ago when—”

“You must think I’m stupid if you expect me to believe that.”

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth, Mrs. Edwards.”

“Blackmailing … blackmailing …,” Cindy said, shaking her head and wagging her finger at Neni. “It’s a crime … you’ll pay for this … I’ll make you pay for this …”

For what seemed like a thousand seconds the women stared at each other: brown eyes next to hazel eyes, round cheeks next to hollow cheeks, face of determination next to face of defeat.

Cindy turned her face away first. “What are you going to do with the picture?” she asked, looking at the skyline outside, panic fully taking over her speech for the first time that afternoon.

Neni shrugged. “I don’t yet know, madam,” she said, smirking again. “But a person I met, he works for a website that writes news about people in the Hamptons. He told me they are always looking for good pictures of women like you.”

“You filthy bitch!”

Neni grinned. The lie had worked. This was precisely where she wanted Cindy. “I wish you, too, a good day, madam,” she said, picking up her purse. She stood up and straightened her red turtleneck.

“Sit down,” Cindy ordered.

“I’m sorry, madam. I need to go cook dinner for my family.”

“I said sit down!”

Neni sat down.

“How much do you want?”

Neni looked Cindy straight in her eyes, let out a short laugh, and said nothing.

“I said name your price.”

“You should know better than me, madam, how much this kind of thing should cost.”

“Wow,” Cindy said, shaking her head again. “Wow. I’m very disappointed in you, Neni. I’m appalled, and so, so disappointed.”

Neni Jonga would not be fooled again. A courage she never knew she possessed had fully taken root. She shrugged and pulled her purse closer to her chest.

“After all Clark and I have done for you and Jende? This is how you repay us?”

Neni turned her face away and fidgeted as if getting ready to stand up again. Cindy stood up, hurried out of the room, and returned a minute later with a check.

Without looking at the sum on the check, Neni shook her head. “Cash, madam,” she said.

“I don’t keep large amounts of cash at home.”

“That’s not what I heard, madam. I heard rich people keep a lot of cash in their houses, in case something bad happens to the banks.”

“Don’t make assumptions about me based on what you’ve read.”

Neni scoffed and smiled. She was enjoying this more than she’d thought she would. “Then I’ll wait for you to go to the bank. Or we can go together.”

She saw Cindy’s fist clench and for a second thought the woman was going to break her jawbone, or ask Anna to call 911 again. Instead, Cindy turned around and returned minutes later with a paper bag.

“I’m only giving you this,” Cindy said as she handed over the bag, “because of the goodness of my heart. Because I know how badly you need it, and I wouldn’t want your children to suffer because of you and your husband’s stupidity. But if I ever see you again, I promise you, you will end up in jail. You can choose to believe it or not, but I’ll make sure you go to jail, and I won’t give a shit. Now hand me the picture and get the hell out of my house.”

Neni took out the SIM card from her cell phone, handed the phone to Cindy, and walked out of the Edwardses’ apartment.