The Constant Gardener

Lawbear said there would be no charges, all of the charges would be paid on her behalf. She did not ask who by. She says the man and woman were very worried. She did not like them to be so worried. She made a joke of this but they did not laugh.

Next day a car came for her. She was close to full term. It was the first time she had ridden in a car. Two days later Kioko her brother arrived at the hospital to be with her. He had heard she was in the hospital. Kioko can read and write and is very intelligent. Brother and sister love each other very much. Wanza is fifteen years old.

Kioko says that when another pregnant woman in the village was dying, the same white couple came to see her and took samples from her just as they had done with Wanza. While they were visiting the village they heard that Wanza had run away to Kibera. Kioko says they were very curious about her and asked him how to find her and wrote his instructions in a notebook. That is how the white couple found Wanza in Kibera slum and had her confined in the Uhuru for observation. Wanza is an African guinea pig, one of many who have not survived Dypraxa.

* * *

Tessa is talking to him across the breakfast table. She is seven months pregnant. Mustafa is standing where he always insists on standing, just inside the kitchen but listening at the partly opened door so that he knows exactly when to make more toast, pour more tea. Mornings are a happy time. So are evenings. But it is in the morning that conversation flows most easily.

"Justin."

"Tessa."

"Ready?"

"All attention."

"If I yelled Lorbeer at you — pow, just like that — what would you say to me?"

"Laurel."

"More."

"Laurel. Crown. Caesar. Emperor. Athlete. Victor."

"More."

"Crowned with — bay — bay leaves — laurel berry — rest on one's laurels — bloody laurels, victory won by violent war — why aren't you laughing?"

"So German?" she insists.

"German. Noun. Masculine."

"Spell it."

He did.

"Could it be Dutch?"

"I should think so. Nearly. Not the same but close, probably. Have you taken up crosswords or something?"

"Not anymore," she replies thoughtfully. And that, as quite often with Tessa the lawyer, is that. Compared with me, the grave is a chatterbox.

* * *

No J, no G, no A, her notes continue. She means: Justin, Ghita and Arnold are none of them present. She is alone in the ward with Wanza.

15:23 Enter beef-faced white man and tall Slav-looking woman in white coats, Slav's open at the neck. Three other males in attendance. All wear white coats. Stolen Napoleonic bees on pockets. They go to Wanza's bedside, gawp at her.

Self: Who are you? What are you doing to her? Are you doctors?

They ignore me, stare at Wanza, listen to her breathing, check heart, pulse, temp, eyes, call "Wanza." No response.

Self: Are you Lorbeer? Who are you all? What are your names?

Slav woman: It is no concern of yours.

Exeunt.

Slav woman one tough bitch. Dyed black hair, long legs, wiggles hips, can't help it.