"When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness; instead, keep your head up high and gaze into heaven, for that is where your broken heart has been sent to heal."
— Unknown
You're not up for anything? I see. No problem," he said with a stiff smile.
"I guess that means you will forfeit what I brought for you then."
I shrugged, totally indifferent. "That's fine." Nothing he could possibly have brought could be of any interest to me.
As I walked away, I felt like I had won the lottery.
Ibrahim would never again have access to my
body.
I couldn't help feeling regretful that I wouldn't present myself as a virgin when Jason and I finally did make love.
But I knew he didn't mind. I knew he had accepted me just the way I was, and it made me love him all the more.
But then things took a morbid turn.
One morning, as I descended the stairs for breakfast, I heard madam Maria wailing from the kitchen.
Rushing there, I saw her sitting on a stool, crying. Huddled around her were some of the other domestic staff, looking equally distressed.
"What's the matter?" I asked, panicked. "Is your husband okay? Or your child?"
"it's not that," answered Fidelia, the junior cook that had just been hired. "It's Clara, the minister…" her voice trailed off in her confusion about how to explain the identity of my husband's mistress.
"Clara is dead!" madam Maria wailed. "She is all her mother has! That girl is all the woman has!"
I almost hissed in my relief that it wasn't someone dear to me that had died, but I was soon overcome by sympathy for Amanda, and also curiosity.
It had been only weeks since I'd seen Clara in the house, though tearful she had been.
What could have killed such a young girl, so full of life?
We were soon to find out that, in a bid to terminate a pregnancy, she had taken some kind of concoction that had led to her bleeding uncontrollably for days. Her friends had tried to manage her privately, doing everything they could to stop the bleeding, and when they became overwhelmed, had rushed her to the Teaching Hospital, where she died less than twenty-four hours later.
As I listened to madam maria relay the information she herself had heard from the grapevine, I found myself feeling nauseous.
Had that been what Clara had come to tell the minister the night I'd found her tearful on the stairway? That she was pregnant? And had he denied responsibility for the baby? After years suppressed, I found myself overwhelmed by vivid flashbacks of my own abortions, and I was overcome with sorrow for the poor girl, who had probably been too inexperienced to know the steps to take to safely end her pregnancy.
"Did you hear about clara?" I asked Jason, as he walked past my garden. I was in no mood for our snubbing games that day.
He sighed and shook his head. "That's all the media is talking about," he answered. "They say the minister was responsible for the pregnancy."
"Who else? The girl practically lived here!" I exclaimed. "That man is evil personified. In fact, he even –"
I was interrupted by loud, sorrowful crying.
I looked in the direction of the sound, and my heart broke when I saw that it was Amanda, crying outside the gate.
She was sitting on the ground, wailing in her grief. From her stained clothes, it was evident she had been rolling on the floor.
Her pain was so palpable, it brought tears to my eyes as I remembered my own pain when my dear child had died. Just like me, Amanda had nobody to grieve with. Clara had been her everything.
"Leave her alone!" I shouted, running towards the gate as the guards made to push her out of the way. "Get your hands off her! Can't you see she is bereaved?"
"The woman is blocking the road. What happens when the minister wants to drive into the gate?" Ali, the senior guard answered.
""Let him park outside and see what his actions have caused her!" I yelled, not caring about the impact of my words. "Let him look at his handiwork face to face!"
Jason tugged at my hand,and I knew I had said too much.
Sad as I was for the bereaved woman, it wasn't my battle to fight. Not wanting attention to divert from Amanda to us, I pulled my hand away from Jason's and walked away, keeping a good distance between us.
Later that evening, as we sat at the creek, the mood was a somber one.
"You have to get out of that house. I have to take you away from there," Jason said, his eyes distant. "Come with me to Mississippi. Let's leave this place."
I looked at him, shocked by his suggestion, but when I saw the determination in his eyes, I realised that was the only logical thing to do.
For how much longer could I live in that kind of toxic environment? It was Clara today, who knew if the next corpse wouldn't be mine?
And so we began to make plans. He spoke to his uncle, who confirmed that new vacancies had opened in the factory. When Jason told him he was bringing me along, he had assured him I would be able to find work, as long as I was willing and able, and willing and able I most definitely was.
We decided to leave in a month, almost eight years to the day that I first arrived in America.
As the days drew closer, I could barely contain my excitement. Jason and I were finally going to be together properly. We would get married and start a family, and I would finally have my happy ending.
I couldn't wait.
We had it all planned. I was to leave with a small bag, with the few belongings I was taking along, at the back gate the night before our departure, and early the next morning, I would just casually stroll out of the front gate, under the guise of making a quick dash to the market. Jason would be waiting for me by the second street, and we would be on the bus, first to his Mama house, from where we would board the train to Mississippi.
"I got this for you," he said to me, handing me a small box, two days to our departure.
I took the box and gasped when I opened it. Inside it was a small, used phone. "Jason!"
He smiled and shrugged. "I just thought it would be nice for you to start your new life by at least owning one. It's absurd that you still don't even have a mobile phone."
"But your savings!" I protested.
"All will be replenished as soon as we get to Mississippi, don't worry," he said, kissing me. "I did it for selfish reasons too. I want to be able to talk to you anytime I want."
As we embraced, I was so happy, it felt like I was floating.
Finally, after having it rough for so many years, life was finally being good to me.
I thought about my brother and decided to call him only after getting to Mississippi, lest he discourage me from eloping with the much younger jason.
Even though I slept happily, when I woke up the following morning, I had a strange sense of foreboding I couldn't explain.
I sat up, wondering why I felt such a weight on my chest, but then decided it was apprehension over leaving the familiar and starting life anew in a strange place.
I reminded myself of feeling a similar way when I left India as a young bride.
Thankfully, this time, I was starting my new life with a man I did love.
As I ate breakfast, I noticed everywhere was unusually quiet and wondered where everyone was.
Not even madam Maria was anywhere to be seen.
But I didn't care.
I had just about twenty-four hours to still be in their company, after which it would be farewell forever.
Walking out to my garden, I noticed Ali talking with the other security in a cluster, his hands on his head.
Then I saw some of the other domestic staff walking in a group from the gate, talking and shaking their heads.
It was then I noticed that none of them were in their uniforms.
As a matter of fact, they all looked like they had just rolled out of bed.
In the nine years I'd been there, I'd never seen anything like it and wondered if this was some kind of protest.
But from the tongue clicking and head shaking, I had a sinking feeling it wasn't.
Madam Maria emerged from the door and walked up to them.
Whatever they told her was distressing enough for her to place both hands on her chest and look upwards.
Rising to my feet, I managed to walk to her, even though my feet were already as heavy as lead.
Even before I heard the words, I already knew.
"What is it? What happened?" was all I asked.
She looked at me, and I immediately saw, not just grief over what she had just heard, but sympathy for me. "The gardener, Jason. They say his family house caught fire overnight. By the time people noticed the fire, it was too late.They tried and tried, but were unable to bring any of them out. By the time they could finally enter the house, they were all dead."
I stumbled back, not believing what I had heard.
No, she had to be lying. She had to be joking.
Jason and I were leaving for his mother's house the next day. Saying he was dead had to be a cruel joke.
So, I started running. I started running towards the gate, so I could see this for myself, so I could prove to myself that there was no way my love was dead.
No way.
"zeynep! Zeynep!" madam maria called out as I ran. "Lock that gate!"
The nearest person to the gate complied, and it shut just as I reached it. I held on to it, crying and shaking it, the reality of the situation dawning on me, the reality that I would never see the love of my life again.
"Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?" madam maria whispered hoarsely as she grabbed me. "You better get a hold of yourself. How will you explain going to the boy's house? What will you tell people is the reason you are crying? You better get yourself together, if you don't want to get into trouble!"
The concern in her voice made me look at her, and I saw in her eyes knowing…and fear.
I realised that she knew.
She knew about the affair.
But it was the fear in her eyes that sent a cold wave through me, a chilling reality dawning on me.
Jason had been killed.