Jowhor Ile - And After Many Days

“Who do you think you are?” Barisua shouted at Paul. “You little rat. You think this is your father’s house?”

“Is it your father’s house?” Paul flung back. “Common house girl.”

The words seared the air like hot iron. They weakened both Paul and Barisua. Ajie hadn’t imagined those would ever be in Paul’s vocabulary, but they had come so quickly, so readily, to his lips. Paul hid his shame well, and may have backed down or even apologized, had Barisua not stomped off: “A common house girl, eh?” She went behind the sideboards and unplugged the radio. She pulled out the extension cord and strode off to her room with it. She returned to the parlor after she had hidden the cord and sat down opposite Paul as if to say, Now what?

Paul walked into the room he shared with Ajie and shut the door. Bibi and Ajie remained stranded in the sitting room with Barisua.

“Sorry,” Bibi said.

“Sorry for what?” Barisua shot back, her voice shaky.

—

The sky was clear the next morning and a light wind blew steadily through the windows of the living room, lifting the lacy blinds, flapping them sideways. The atmosphere was still tense between the Utus and Barisua.

Paul got up early, washed Uncle Tam’s car, swept the parlor, arranged the furniture, puffed the throw pillows, and arranged the headrest cover for the sofas. He took a shower and then sat in the dining area, quietly reading a book. Barisua scrubbed the kitchen floor (asking Bibi several times to stand aside), washed the countertop, brought out the plastic drum for storing drinking water. She scrubbed the bottom of the plastic drum, washed and polished the terrazzo floor, set the kettle to boil for tea, then scrubbed the toilet. At about nine o’clock, the sun heightened and threw a wider light about. The floors, the air, the walls, everything sparkled.

Since Barisua and Paul were not speaking to each other, Bibi and Ajie stayed quiet during breakfast. Paul kept a blank face as he bit into the bread and gulped his warm Bournvita.

At some point Bibi decided to make conversation, asking Paul if he had heard about this or that, turning to Barisua to ask another question. Paul ignored Bibi’s small talk, but Barisua responded, her voice loose, easy, and free. She was the type of girl who was always moving, always thinking and taking the road forward. Ajie began to feel a coming headache that began with a dull spreading sensation on his forehead.

Later that evening, Barisua initiated reconciliation. Paul, Ajie, and Bibi were in the sitting room when she stepped out of her room and said, “Bibi, do you want to follow me to the store to buy something?” Bibi sprang up: “Yes.” They were all bored, just sitting around the entire afternoon. Then Barisua said, “Paul, won’t you come?”

Paul didn’t decline.

Paul also didn’t decline the next day when Barisua suggested a pillow fight. She knocked Paul hard on the head before he even consented or got ready. He grabbed another pillow and raced after her, and her voice rang out in ripples of laughter.

Although Bibi had never been keen on pillow fights, she didn’t want to be left out of the fun this time. She grabbed a pillow and positioned herself, ready to strike. Ajie snatched the last pillow and then jumped on the bed and stood on it. The headache had returned with a pounding on the left part of his head that made him just want to shut his left eye, but he wanted to play, too. Paul went after Barisua and knocked her hard on the side of her head, and she screamed. He lifted the pillow again and brought it down with all his might, right on the center of her head. She fell silent and dropped on the bed, not moving.

“ Ehe! You have killed her!” Bibi shouted.

“That was my plan.” Paul grinned, looking across at the bed where she was lying, playing dead. Bibi bent over Barisua, whose arms were wide apart, eyes closed. “Bari.” She shook her by the shoulders. “Bari, Bari.” No response. Ajie saw the twitch on Barisua’s eyelids and how she held back the smile on her lips.

Paul sat beside Barisua, then shoved his hand under her arms and tickled her. She kicked and gave out a loud yelp, coming out of her pretend unconsciousness. Paul held her down to the bed and tickled her some more. He was sitting on her now, and there were tears in Barisua’s eyes, trickling down her cheeks as she laughed. Bibi was laughing, too, looking a bit unsure. Barisua slapped at Paul’s hand and kicked her legs as she laughed. Her blue floral dress twisted and ran up her legs. That was when Ajie first saw her panties. They were a very light sky blue, and Ajie was sure he saw a print of tiny pink flowers on them. Ma always got his and Paul’s underpants in shades of blue and gray, and Bibi’s were always in white, because as Ma said, only dirty girls wore colored panties, but Ajie didn’t think this at all — that Barisua was a dirty girl. The soles of her feet were always scrubbed so hard with a stone, each time she came from the bathroom, that they turned a gentle red. She always smelled of Rose talcum powder.

Barisua rolled and wrestled Paul down on the bed. Bibi began to chant, “Bari! Bari! Bari!” Ajie lifted his voice over hers: “Paul! Paul! Paul!”

Bibi clapped her hands in tune to her chants in order to drown out Ajie’s voice. Ajie began to bang on the top of a drawer. They did not hear the front door rattle as Auntie Leba let herself in. She had returned home earlier than usual. They didn’t see her standing by the bedroom door until she said, “What’s going on here?”

They all froze, pillow in hand. Bibi had an unfinished shout in her throat; Paul and Barisua were still entangled on the bed, and as they let go of each other and stood up, Ajie could see their faces change: It was unspeakable joy a moment ago, but it went from self-consciousness to guilt and then shame.

“Welcome, Auntie,” Bibi said, and Auntie Leba mouthed a quiet “Thank you” and then gave Barisua a hard look, and it was clear that if not for the houseguests, she would have received a major scolding.

That night they all sat down and watched one of Auntie Leba’s favorite Mexican telenovelas. Since they arrived, the children had joined in watching the show, which aired three nights a week. Uncle Tam said it was trash but remained in front of the TV whenever the program started. Barisua sat on a stool by the door where she had a clear view of the screen.

“Stupid man!” Uncle Tam hissed at the TV. “She is deceiving you.”

Auntie Leba said, “No, there is a reason why she had to lie to him.”

Paul and Ajie still couldn’t tell some of the characters apart, and Barisua and Bibi (who caught on early) had to correct them. At some point, everyone was talking back to every scene that came on, sighing, hissing out loud, and lamenting the silliness of the story and of the characters and actors.

“What would you do if it were you?” Bibi asked Paul.

Ajie replied instead, that Leticia never should have forgiven Lothario and let him back in the first place. Auntie Leba had to hurry to the bathroom when the commercial break came on. By the time she came back, the program had returned and everyone volunteered to fill her in on the part she’d missed, including Uncle Tam, whose version of the plot was less accurate than Barisua’s and Bibi’s.

Ajie still wasn’t feeling himself. He had a light fever, his eyes felt dry, and his mouth tasted sour, but he didn’t want to bother Auntie Leba, so he kept it to himself. Besides, she might make a big fuss, like Ma did when any of the children got ill, and maybe make him swallow large bitter pills three at a time after every meal. This was much worse than feeling sick.

Before they went to bed that night, Uncle Tam announced that he would be taking them all out to the zoo the following day. “Everyone,” he emphasized, which meant Barisua would be going, too.