A STRING OF GOLD

By: Patrick Manzi

Patrick Manzi 2013

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Patrick Manzi 2013

CHAPTER ONE

For no particular reason, the flying creature caught her attention. The bird made circles
and diagonal arcs towards the ground. The longer the young girl looked at it the more
curious she became. From where she stood, it looked very much like Angel-her former
pet. Her first thought was that it was in fact Angel. Thats impossible, the girl thought.
Then the bird began to do the one thing that the girl hoped it would do: it flew closer. It
was now hovering slightly above the white wall that stood to her left. Then it landed on
the wall. Now the girl was sure. It was a parrot.
A parrot with physical features that were almost identical to those of Angel. It had the
same feather colors, eyes, tiny head crown....the girl felt a constriction in her throat. It
was indeed the same type of parrot. Its similarity to Angel was so much that the girl tried
to convince herself that it was actually Angel. The bird turned its head and the two
looked at each other for a while. A minute? An hour? Mary had no idea.
Fly. Fly. Flying in the sky....! the parrot croaked. The girl felt like her heart had
jumped into her throat. The words! The exact words! Suddenly it stretched its wings and
took off.
Angel! Mary called out to the bird as it flew away. She felt silly. She watched it until
it flew out of sight.

*
The pain had almost totally subsided. She could still feel a slight throb at the back of her
eyes but that was it. It was a long time since she had thought about her eye problem. A
lot had been going on in her life recently. Mary continued to lean on the white railings of
the balcony and stare out at the grass expanse and trees beyond that lay in front of the
home.

She continued to toy with the idea of telling Phiona about the pain. Only a few minutes
earlier Mary had felt the rare but familiar pain beginning to build behind her eyes. Mary
had gasped involuntarily and raised her hand to her face. The pain reverberated from her
eyes to the back of her head in steady waves. She slowly sank to her knees right there on
the balcony. During such times she wished she was someone else, someone who didnt
have an eye defect that couldnt be cured and which was in many ways, still a mystery
to her.
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The pain was suddenly gone, its departure as sudden as its arrival. She decided not to tell
Phiona about it. Disobedience to her mother didnt come easy for Mary and so she spent
several minutes feeling guilty about not reporting a pain-problem that Phiona had said to
report if and when it ever occurred. She went back inside.
She lay on the bed in her beautiful bedroom. The room was truly splendid. It was built
with the same white stone that the exterior walls of the house were made. A large, darkwood cupboard lay to her right up against the far end of the wall. A window that gave a
lovely view of the sand and grass expanse that lay to the left of the house, filled a
portion of the wall.
Hanging on the other parts of the walls were decorations that had been added by Mary
herself. They were mostly paintings. A painting of a lady, (Phiona) was Marys most
accomplished work to date. Mary thought of how it was stolen then recovered.....
A painting Mary had called The Guardian, hung next to the painting of the lady. It bore
the depiction of an apparently invisible being watching over a young girl and an elderly
woman who were both walking along a lonely path that had a mixture of flowers and
trees growing along both its sides.
The evening wind increased ever so slightly and Mary felt a chill of cold. She walked
across the room and pulled the window pane shut. She turned back to notice that the
sudden gust of wind had sent some paper and pencils that had been resting on her desk
to the floor. She walked over to pick them up. One of them was a newspaper clipping
that brought a smile to her face as she remembered the day. The headline of the
newspaper article read:

THIRTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL WINS PRESTIGIOUS ART AWARD.

Below that, was a picture of a smiling Mary holding a golden, dove shaped award as she
stood in a room full of reporters armed with cameras as they took photo after photo of

the young girl. Marys smile faded as she thought of the public scrutiny she sometimes
faced. It was something that almost always made her uncomfortable. Mary was a
naturally private person and the sometimes shameless prying into her life was unsettling.
The pain returned. Mary let the paper slip through her fingers and fall to the floor as her
hand moved towards her face again. How could this be? She hardly ever experienced the
pain at all and yet it had occurred twice today in the space of no less than thirty minutes.
Mary was on her knees again. Small gasps escaped her lips.
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Mary! a voice penetrated her head. Through a haze of pain, she looked up to see
Phiona standing in the door way. Phiona and Marys facial resemblance was amazing
even for mother and daughter. They had the same forehead, dimples, brown eyes and
smooth round chins as well as dark curly hair.
Its your eyes isnt it? Phiona said. She was lifting her daughter up and leading her out
the door. We are going to the doctor.
Mary felt dizzy and lightheaded as she sat in the living room. Phiona picked up her car
keys and bag. Baby Michael was asleep. She scooped him up and slowly led Mary out of
the house and into the grey Nissan car that was parked in the driveway.
Its okay....its going to be okay, she kept reassuring her daughter. Mary kept her eyes
shut throughout the entire journey. The doctor was familiar with Marys problem having
been the one that explained its nature to her. The doctor, whose name was Sam,
immediately gave Mary some drugs for the pain as well as some other drugs that would
help the nerves around her eyes cope with the phenomenon.
Twenty minutes later, Mary was being given an explanation of what was happening.
......your condition has....developed, Sam said, his white beard and round glasses
perched at the end of his nose giving him a wizened look.
What do you mean developed? Phiona asked.
Marys previous sensitivity to color has grown.
Both Phiona and Mary remained silent. They all knew about Marys condition.
Will this go on? I mean will she continue to have these growths?
As to that, I am not yet sure....
As Phiona and Sam continued to talk, Mary looked out the office window. Her eyes still
hurt but much less now. Then she saw it.

Look! Mary exclaimed. A part of the glass window pane that had been bent from
either intentional damage or accident was doing more than show distorted images of any
object behind it. In the bent glass, Mary saw a dazzling mix of colors. This had
happened before. She would unexpectedly see a vibrant reflection of light and color
where ordinary people saw nothing. This time, she was seeing colors she had never
encountered before in any earthly book, drawing or object.
You are seeing the colors, Phiona said. Her mother as well as the doctor, were familiar
with these sudden occurrences.
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Look! she repeated, its so beautiful! She couldnt help herself. How dazzling! How
wonderful!
Sam was looking at her with a mixture of amusement, wonder and longing on his face.
He wondered if Mary had any idea how rare her condition was. In medicine, there were
only a few documented cases of people who could see new colors. Sam had taken a
fascination to Marys ability from the day that she and her mother had first walked
through his door and talked to him about the itching and pain in the girls eyes. Phiona
had asked him not to publicize Marys ability and hed promised not to. A promise that
he was often tempted to break.

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CHAPTER TWO

ONE YEAR AGO

Mary sat in the cool shade of the medium sized green trees that stood at the edge of the
small garden. The garden was her little paradise. She had no idea if it was purposely
designed by someone or simply a random accident of nature but she loved it. A few
weeks ago, she had discovered it on her way home from school and since then shed
made it a point to rest there every day before she arrived home for the evening.
The garden had soft green grass that served as a comfortable carpet on which the eleven
year old girl sat. Fallen petals, twigs and a scattering of lilies littered the green grass.
The place was a rainbow of plants and flowers of all sizes and colors. The mixture of
perfumes was intoxicating. It was peaceful and silent. For seven days straight, she had
come to this garden and relaxed. The garden gave her a peace of mind from the noisy
school days. Today would be the last time she would come to the garden. Her school
days were over. There would be no reason for her to leave home, walk along the road
that snaked through the neighborhood and come to the garden.
At her side, next to the backpack that lay beside her, was a typed letter from her now
former school that explained why Mary was no longer able to study at the institution.
Mary had successfully kept her emotions in check when she was handed the letter earlier
that day. Still, the thought of the dismissal pounded away at her head like a hammer.
Mary had round deep brown eyes that were nested beneath a set of thin long eyebrows.
Her hair, though short, was dark and curly and often drew praise from her mother and

anyone else who cared to notice. Mary bore the appearance of a fairly underfed person.
She was quite skinny and her cheek bones showed much more than most girls her age.
It was time to leave. She stood up and picked up her bag and letter. She gave the garden
one last loving look. She pictured Rodney (her neighborhood friend that knew about the
garden) seated on the grassy floor, playing with the broken twigs. The two of them
seemed to be the only people that knew of the garden and they often met there to share a
word or two about whatever was going on in their lives. After today it was unlikely she
would see Rodney again.
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She walked through the short plants on the right and directly onto a gravel road that
would eventually lead to her home. Twenty minutes later she was home.
The house that was now directly in front of her was tiny, like most houses in the area. It
looked in danger of collapsing any minute. Most of the roof tiles were missing, the
windows were broken or boarded up and the paint was peeling off a greater part of the
exterior walls. The house wasnt even theirs. It was a rental. They paid a monthly rent
that her mother could barely afford. It was home.
Hardly noticing the less than pleasant exterior, Mary pushed open the old wooden front
door and made her way into the small interior of the house. The first thing she noticed
was that Phiona seemed to be cooking something. The sound of sizzling, saucepan
material and whiff of unknown food substances were picked up by her senses. This
quickly caught her attention because Mary was always on the lookout for the pleasant. It
was always a good sign when Phiona had something to cook, a good sign that the night
would be accompanied with a full stomach and thus pass away in a fairly pleasant
manner no doubt owing to the light moods.
Their house was comprised of basically three rooms: one bedroom, a small kitchen-that
acted as a store as well-and a living room that was divided into two by a long, low hung
curtain. The sounds of cooking were coming from the kitchen which Mary could see
clearly from where she stood. She walked through the lightly furnished room and came
to a halt in front of the kitchen door.
She watched her mother as the twenty eight year old woman stirred unseen contents in
an old metallic saucepan. Phiona spoke to her daughter without turning her head.
"Why are you back so early Mary?" She must have heard the front door open. Mary
couldn't bring herself to tell Phiona the news. This wasn't because it was devastating or a
terrible shock. On the contrary, they had both waited in dread for this day to come. A
day they knew was as inevitable as the following of day with night. It was hard to say
because of what it meant to Mary. The fact that she could no longer go to school meant
more to her than anyone (even Phiona) could ever understand. Interpreting her

daughters silence, Phiona turned around and looked directly at Mary's face then down at
the letter in her hand. The solemn expression on Phiona's face told Mary that her mother
knew what had happened.
Mary watched as her mother slowly turned back to her cooking, refusing to verbally
acknowledge what they had both known was bound to happen sooner or later. Mary
suspected that Phiona didn't want her to see the disappointment in her own eyes. After a
long moment Phiona spoke,
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"Don't worry. Its going to be okay. Go and start your chores." Marys daily chores
consisted of various household tasks like cleaning the bedroom, washing their clothes,
among other things.
She made her way to the bedroom. It contained one bed which was shared between her
and Phiona. They had done so for almost eight years now. Mary had never known any
other life outside the walls of the house except for the school which until four hours ago,
she'd been attending. She never knew who her father was and Phiona refused to tell her.
All she knew was that he was still alive and living somewhere in the district.
"He left when you were still a baby," was all Phiona could say about the subject. Any
other questions put to her mother about her mysterious father were sharply rejected or
otherwise met with an icy silence. They had no photographs of him in the entire house
so Mary didn't even know what he looked like.
Anxious as she was to know her fathers identity, she wouldn't be too pleased to meet
him in person, let alone speak to him. It was fairly obvious that he'd left them in this
pitiful mess. He didn't seem to care what became of them and lacking as Phiona was, she
at least cared for Mary and that was the most important thing.
She swept the bedroom floor with a worn out broomstick. She was glad she had
something to do. It kept her mind off the bitter thought that she was no longer getting an
education. When Phiona said 'its going to be okay' Mary supposed that meant that she,
Phiona would find another way of getting school fees but inwardly, Mary knew that
there was a small chance of that ever happening. The only reason she'd gone to school in
the first place was because of a generous donation from a certain relative of theirs.
Phiona's job earned them enough to barely survive and keep a roof over their heads.
There wasn't any extra money. School had been a fun and interesting experience for
Mary. That aside, it had been her one hope that she would someday get a real job and lift
her and Phiona out of their state.
On the other hand, Mary thought as she lifted a bundle of dirty clothes and began to
carry them to the back compound outside, school was at times a horrible experience.
Indeed, while at school Mary had to sometimes endure constant teasing and bulling from

her ill-behaved colleagues that thought her a good target for jokes as she was more or
less the poorest child among them. The jokes ranged from her worn out school dress to
her tattered shoes. She was even the only one that would go to school without packed
lunch.
None of this ever affected Mary in a serious way. She was a smart girl that knew better
than to let bulling get to her. It did depress her at times but not in the way her tormentors
thought. The fact that her school mates came from 'better off' families than her didn't
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register as much as the idea that the teasing was indirectly targeted at her mother. None
of them knew the extent to which she was close to Phiona and the fierce loving and
pride that she had for her mother. As far as Mary was concerned Phiona was the best
mother one could ever hope for.

Mary placed the bundle of clothes at the edge of the tiny compound behind the house.
She then fetched a large bucket and washing detergent from the house. She had just
picked up a dirty shirt when she remembered that shed forgotten to feed their pet parrot.
She moved back into the living room and through the dividing curtain. In the left corner
of the room was a metallic tub that served as their bathroom. Close to the right corner,
perched in the middle of a wooden cage, that was attached to the wall a few feet from
the ground, was their pet, blue and green feathered parrot, Angel. The brilliance of its
colors always impressed Mary. It turned its head to the side as she approached it and
regarded her with its beady eyes.
Fly! Fly! Flying in the sky! the parrot croaked. Mary laughed.
No, she said, later. I promise. Mary knew that Angel always thought she was going
to let it out for flying drills as she often did. Mary had taught it to say Flying in the
sky! every time she let it out. It seemed less active than usual and when Mary shoved
some maize seeds through its cage bars it snapped at them hungrily. As Mary stroked the
back of its neck she could distinctly feel all its bones on that side. The poor parrot, like
every other inhabitant of the house was starving. He uttered a soft note as Mary stroked
it again.
She went outside and began the monotonous task of washing the laundry. Thirty minutes
later, she was done. She hung the clothes up on a metal wire that served as their washing
line. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Thomas, their grumpy neighbor,
scrutinizing her with a frown on his haggard face. He turned away as soon as he noticed
she was looking at him. She was used to such obnoxious behavior form their fellow
tenants. She didn't even bother to dwell on whatever it was that was bothering him. If it
was important, it would come out sooner or later. She went back inside to finish her

chores. She found that Phiona had almost completed the preparation of their meal.
Today, they would have an early supper.
As Phiona stood up to wipe her sweat soaked brow, Mary noted with surprise that her
mothers stomach had increased in size. It was a smooth, slight round bump. Mary knew
what that meant.

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"Whats wrong Mary?" Phiona asked and Mary lifted her gaze to Phiona's face. Her
mother was looking at her with something like amusement all over her angular facial
features. Mary had always thought her mother looked very beautiful especially on
moments like this when she smiled. Her eyes were like deep pools of water with brilliant
reflections of brown light behind them. Her long hair was always braided into threads.
Before she could stop herself, Mary blurted out,
"Are you having another baby mother?"
Phiona laughed her usual silvery laugh that always seemed to fill the room air.
"You are such a clever girl. What were they thinking sending you away from that
school?" she continued to give Mary an amused look. "Now go and finish your chores.
Now is not the time to discuss that."
Mary swallowed whatever questions she had at the tip of her tongue and went back to
work. Her head started to buzz with a new line of thoughts. Another child? What did this
mean for the family? Most importantly, who was the father? Mary didn't have to search
far for an answer to that question. Less than a year ago, Phiona had entered an intimate
relationship with a man her age by the names of Jack Mwesigye.
Jack was a seemingly kind man that offered to take care of Phiona as well as Mary. He
had promised to treat Mary as his own daughter should he and Phiona get married. His
appearance was one of the things about him that made him hard to forget. He had barrel
shaped shoulders and large muscles that gave him the appearance of a small giant. For a
few months Jack had proved that he could indeed be, in every way, a competent father.
Mary had even begun to accept that he would someday be her father and her his
daughter until one unfortunate night during which a heated argument broke out between
the two adults.
Mary never found out the reason for the brawl but after that night, she never saw Jack
again. She was left with a mental void and question as to what could have driven them
apart.
A small part of her was happy about the breakup. In many ways, she preferred that it
was just her and her mother. The way it had always been. Besides, she liked to think that

they were keeping a place in their lives for her real father whom she still had every hope
of meeting one day.
It seemed more likely than not that Jack Mwesigye was the father of Phiona's second
child. Was it going to be a girl or boy? Mary remembered how distraught Phiona had
been about the breakup. Would that affect how she felt about the child? She was so
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wrapped in her thoughts that it was a few minutes before she realized that she was
cleaning the same window spot over and over again. It was around seven in the evening
by the time she finished her work.
"Mary! Someone is knocking at the door," Pionas voice floated from the kitchen. There
was a soft thumping on the old front door. Without bothering to put any thought to who
it could be Mary went to open it. Upon swinging the door open Mary suppressed a small
gasp but immediately felt silly for doing so. It was only the landlord.
The six foot, fat, wide-eyed landlord that had made their lives-if it were possible-even
worse. Mary knew him as Mr. Agaba. At present his hairy, large hands were thrust
deep inside his pockets as he regarded the young girl in front of him through bloodshot
eyes. His shirt and trouser were stretched slightly tight across his skin because of his
plump physic.
"Is your mother home?" Agaba asked immediately in his grumpy voice. Mary caught a
whiff of alcohol from his breath. He seemed to drink at all times. His indifference to her
was common and Mary nodded without a word.
"Mr. Agaba!" Phiona voice came from behind Mary, "how good it is for you to come by.
Just today, I was thinking-" Agaba's cold stare stopped her.
"Save your breath Phiona. I did not leave my house to come and chat with you. You
know what it is that I want so don't waste my time."
Mary slid away from in between them and backed away into the now slightly dark room.
"Come inside and we can discuss-" Phiona began.
"I will not ask you again woman! It has been three weeks and you haven't paid me my
money.....!"
Mary preferred to hear the conversation from behind the dividing curtain. It was one she
had witnessed many times before in different variations. They had all been unpleasant.
She could see their shapes silhouetted against the light cotton. Phiona was once again
overdue in rent payment. Mary listened apprehensively as Phiona bargained for more
time. Their tones were tense and seemed to be kept under control with some effort.

"I have given you until next week. This time Im serious. If you do not have my money
by then......." He let his threat hung. He slammed the door behind him as he left.
Mary emerged from behind the curtain to face a defeated looking Phiona. Her eyes
seemed more downcast and weary than usual, the lines on her face more pronounced.
She offered her daughter a weak reassuring smile that failed in its objective. They
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moved together into the kitchen and settled down for their supper. Phiona handed Mary
a plastic bowl of soup and sweet potatoes which Mary pounced upon hungrily. The last
meal she'd taken was a cup of porridge in the early morning. By their diet standards it
was good feeding. Of recent their diet was so monotonous that Mary no longer paid any
serious attention to what she ate. The fact that Phiona had managed to put another meal
on their table was enough. During the worst of times, one meal a day was all they had to
go on. This happened more often than not. For a while, the only noise in the room was
the soft munching coming from the two. After a while, Mary dared to ask,
"Are you really going to have a baby?" Phiona nodded. Mary tried to formulate a
question about who the father was but couldn't find the right words. Phiona was
watching her and read her daughters mind.
"It is Jack's child," she said. Mary said nothing but continued to eat. It was unfortunate
that Phiona had put her trust in Jack. She had no doubt hoped that he would be around to
father the child. Now she was going to raise the child on her own. Never the less Mary
was excited about having a younger sibling.
"Will you tell him? About the baby?"
"Why should I?" Sometimes they spoke like friends rather than mother and daughter.
"It is his child as well," Mary pointed out. Phiona shook her head.
"I know it is but I will not tell him."
They ate some more.
"What will you call it?" Mary asked. Phiona looked at Mary and smiled.
"You shall choose a name for it, she replied. Mary laughed excitedly. Having the child
was going to be a good experience. They ate the rest of their meal in silence. When they
were done, Phiona washed the bowls and kept the food remainder. It would serve as
their breakfast. Phiona disappeared into the bedroom and re-emerged wearing her long
brown coat.

"Stay inside for a while. I am going somewhere but I will be back in a short while." She
was moving towards the door as she spoke, "if I delay, lock the front door and keep on
the other side of the room." With those orders, she left.

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It was almost dark now. From the living room window, Mary could see the sky painted a
deep blue black. There was only one way she could pass the time. She went into the
bedroom and knelt beside the bed, peering underneath it until she spotted what she was
looking for. She pulled them out and excitedly trotted back into the living room.
The objects clutched in her hands were simply a few pieces of paper, several color
pencils and two old, tattered books. To Mary these objects meant a lot. The art of
drawing and painting had always been a relentless passion with her and more so she was
exceptionally skilled at it.
Mary had been born with an ability to perceive color on a level much higher than that
of the ordinary person. That plus a good memory of visual structures brought forth a
unique talent in art. While at school she'd gained a reputation among her peers of being
the student that always topped the art class. Even the teachers had come to know of the
extraordinary girl that could paint pictures rival to professional adult artists.
Mary harbored no illusions about becoming an artist or painter in the future. She simply
drew because she loved to. It was something she could immerse herself into for hours
without even noticing that time had flown by. When she drew, everything else faded
away.
The colored pencils that she now gripped in her palm as she scrawled back and forth
across the blank sheet of paper, were given to her by one of the teachers that had taken a
keen interest in her gift. The tattered book was an old textbook she'd gotten from the
school library and was filled with hundreds of vivid, still life color pictures. She flipped
through its pages and selected a detailed depiction of a tree, bush and flower covered
hillside. She started to duplicate the drawing. Her skilled hand moved back and forth
across the paper. Sometimes she drew pictures from real objects and other times from
the textbook which was now worn out from the number of times she had opened its
covers and turned its pages. A friend of hers once remarked,
"You look funny when doing those drawings of yours."
"What do you mean?" Mary had asked puzzled.
"Your eyes seem to be looking at something that isn't there."
Whatever that strange statement meant it probably had something to do with how
transfixed she felt when she drew. Or perhaps it had to do with her eye ability as she

sometimes felt a stirring behind her eyes when blending different colors in an attempt to
achieve a unique tone.

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The other book that lay beside her, Great Ugandan Art of the Twenty First Century
was a collection of real life stories about famous artists, both alive and dead that had
lived in Uganda and the continent at large.
An hour later it was pitch black outside and Mary was still at it. The room was becoming
increasingly cold. Mary had become accustomed to the unique chilly weather of Kabale
district. Still, she went to retrieve her only sweater from the bedroom. She couldn't
afford getting any kind of sickness. Being alone at night was something Mary often
experienced but still had a hard time getting used to. Every tiny sound made her jump.
She finally gathered her drawings into a neat pile and returned them to their place under
the bedroom bed. She then curled up into a ball on the thin living room couch. The
couch was made of wood with old hole-riddled cushions. She pulled her sweater tightly
over her chest and wished Phiona would hurry up from where ever she was. Aside from
not wanting to be alone in the cold and deathly silent house, she didn't want the night to
elapse without Phiona giving the daily story time.
Every evening, Phiona read to Mary stories, poems....and over time it had become
something of a tradition in their house. Mary had slightly outgrown the age of having
stories read to her but Phiona did it anyway. Phiona loved literature and had taught her
daughter to do the same. Being an artist and having an imaginative mind, Mary had no
trouble falling in love with storytelling.
Mary sat on the couch for what felt like hours even though it was only about thirty
minutes. She heard soft humming coming from outside. She immediately recognized the
voice as Phionas and wondered what she was so pleased about. Of recent she was
hardly ever in a good mood. The front door opened and Phiona entered wearing an
enigmatic smile. She didn't give a reason for her happiness.
"You look so cold! Why haven't you lit the fire?" She then went on to prepare the
charcoal stove to combat the cold. By the time they settled down for their daily story
time, it was quite late.
They sat on wooden stools with the clay stove in between them. A lone paraffin lamp
provided the only light in the room. The warmth from the dancing orange and red flames
began to spread through Mary bringing with it a smug feeling. Phiona opened a big
brown leather book and swiftly flipped directly to the marked page.
"We will start from where we stopped yesterday," Phiona said, as if addressing a class.
"Read yesterdays story again!" Mary pleaded.

"No Mary. You know how we do things. Each day we read a small part of the story until
we finish," and with that, she set off reading in her usual clear, melodious voice. It was
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an epic tale of a warrior and his eventful journey to find a legendary city amidst
obstacles. As Phiona read, Mary was mentally transported to another place. She liked to
visualize the events that were being told to her as cinematic events inside her head. She
could clearly see the sand covered lands, the horses, castles, beasts and so many other
things the warrior had to get past to reach the city.

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CHAPTER THREE

The following day, Phiona gave Mary a small dose of bad news.
"I'm going to sell one of our belongings," she announced.
"Again?" Mary asked aghast.
"I have no choice. We need the money for rent," Phiona said distractedly as she looked
around at the very lightly furnished living room. Some of the things in the house
belonged to Phiona personally. They were one of the few things she'd managed to
acquire before coming to live in the house. Not too long ago she had sold off a large
cupboard to pay off certain debts.
"I think those chairs and that table will do," Phiona muttered as she scrutinized the old
furniture that was made of somewhat valuable wood.
"The money won't be much but it will at least be something," Phiona said. Mary felt her
heart sink like a rock at sea. One by one they were selling off everything they owned. It
gave her the queer feeling of plunging headlong into a tunnel with no idea what lay at
the end. There was nothing for it, their condition was almost inflexible.
They spent the days that followed with the same monotonous routine: Phiona going off
to work selling small, cheap merchandise like watches, bracelets, handkerchiefs and the
like while Mary passed away her time cleaning the house, drawing her pictures and
whatever else she could do. The realization that she would no longer be studying kept
hitting her in fresh waves of shock. It was taking her a much longer time to come to
terms with that fact than she'd originally anticipated it would take. However, a very
nasty shock was delivered to the family at the end of the month when Agaba said he was
kicking them out.
"But I paid you the money just last week!" Phiona protested to the landlord when he
came over to deliver the news to them.

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"Yes I know but the rent has gone up, Agaba said. The price of everything is going up
these days you know."
"You could have at least told me beforehand!" Phiona was trying but with little success
to keep the panic out of her voice.
"I am telling you now!" Agaba snapped. "If you do not have the rest of the money by
tomorrow I want you to pack your belongings and move out." He left. What were they to
do? Mary wondered. There was no way Phiona could come up with the extra money
within a few hours.
The mood inside the house turned somber. Neither Phiona nor Mary said a word to each
other. Phiona was thinking hard and Mary had a knot in her throat. Every time she tried
to say something to her mother she immediately dismissed the idea. So many thoughts
and suggestions bubbled inside her throat that she simply chocked and remained silent.
The only meal they ate that day was the regular plate of sweet potatoes and soup at
midday. It served as their lunch. Phiona had a day off from work and so spent her entire
time doing domestic work. From Phiona's firm set jaw, Mary could tell that her mother
was still trying to think of a way out of their dilemma.
That evening, a thunder storm broke out. Thunder answered lightening and a violent
wind blew against the tiny house. Mary could hear the partially damaged roof groaning
and creaking under the forces of the elements. Rain lashed relentlessly against the
cracked and boarded up windows.
After lighting the customary charcoal stove fire, Phiona extracted the leather book and
commenced the usual nighttime reading. Mary could not help admiring Phiona's
principled nature. The landlord had given them until the end of the day to come up with
the rest of the money, he was bound to arrive any minute, they still had no way out of
their problem and yet here Phiona was, calmly reading to her daughter as if there was no
impending problem. They continued the story of the warrior and his search for the
hidden city.
"....then the warrior left the great mountain and began to travel through the desert.......he
traveled in the desert for days without finding any water until the bird creature (who was
the warriors companion) complained.
What are we going to drink? it demanded. So the warrior cried out to his Master whom
had long left the world but was alive in another. The Master instructed him to walk over
to a plant from which a drink would come forth.

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Phiona had grown accustomed to reading to Mary in English. Even though Phiona
herself had spent a short amount of time in school during her youth, she had selfeducated herself into knowing and speaking the language.
They read on. When they came to a part where the Master sent food that fell from the
sky like rain and fed the warrior and his companion, Mary was baffled. Food falling
from the sky?
"He sent many winged creatures that the warrior ate as food," Phiona explained. The
rain was still coming down in great gushes. Phiona was just rounding up the story time
when a loud bang startled them both. A few seconds later loud, drunk-sounding
unintelligible words were uttered with a voice they knew too well. Phiona sprang to her
feet and immediately went over to confront Mr. Agaba. Mary followed cautiously
behind her.
"Do you have my money or not?" Agaba asked without preamble. His clothes were half
soaked from the rain, a bottle of what appeared to be beer clutched in his hand. His eyes
were unfocused and red.
"Perhaps we can make an arrangement-" Phiona began.
"No! Give me my money or get out!" Agaba bellowed. He swayed slightly. He had
obviously had too much to drink.
"Unless," he said in a much calmer tone, "you can pay me in some other ways...," his
words slurred and he took a few unsteady steps towards Phiona. Mary had no idea what
Agaba meant and was confused at her mothers distinct facial expression of fear. Phiona
remained silent for a long moment as if making up her mind on something. The landlord
was now a few inches from her. His hand reached out to her but Phiona took a step
backwards.
"Don't make rash decisions young lady," Agaba cooed. He still had a mysterious glint in
his eyes. Phiona took another step back and continued to stare at him with the coldest
look she could master.
"Fine. If you are so stubborn...," Agaba sounded angry again. He turned and looked
directly at Mary. "Perhaps your daughter will do. She is old enough."
"No!" Phiona half-shouted, immediately advancing and placing herself between the two,
"you will not lay a finger on her."
Mary was still in the dark about what the two adults were going on about and kept
glancing back and forth at them as if at a tennis match.

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"I knew it would come to this," Agaba said, "if you wish to be homeless thats not my
problem."
With these words he turned and faced the open door and the rainy night. For a brief,
insane moment Mary thought he was going back. Giving them more time to get....
Agaba whistled and shouted a command to an unknown party somewhere in the
darkness and rain. A moment later, a tough looking man came striding into the house.
Without saying a word to either of them, he marched into the bedroom and one by one
started to lift their belongings out of the house and dump them unceremoniously outside.
Wait! What are you doing? Stop!" Phiona wailed to the stranger. For all the response
she got, she might as well have addressed her cries to the walls. Mary watched the scene
with a feeling of helplessness: she could have been watching a play of their lives. This
was the moment of their eviction. Mr. Agaba had already vanished into the night. He
had more customers to squeeze money from.
Twenty minutes later, during which time Phiona had fruitlessly struggled with the
unidentified man in an attempt to make sure their property wasn't badly handled, she and
Mary stood under a large tree that partially sheltered them from the rain. They held a
few bags that contained their clothes and whatever portable items they owned. Mary
held Angel's cage in her left hand. The wooden cage had a plastic strap attached to its
top for easy transportation. Angel quaked and squirmed as he adjusted to the weather
changes. The rain had subsided a little but was none the less still vicious and
unbelievably cold. Mary snuggled closer to Phiona, her head resting against her
mothers waist. The rushing wind chilled her to the bone.
The weather, though horrid was definitely the least of their worries. Mary was still
drawing a blank as to what they were going to do next. She hoped Phiona had already
thought of something. She dared to ask,
"Where are we going to stay?" Phiona didn't reply. They stood on the same spot for what
felt like hours. The rain finally reduced to a light drizzle.
"Come," Phiona said, "lets go."
She had extracted an umbrella from the bag she held in her right hand. Mary restrained
herself from asking where it was they were going and immediately fell into step beside
Phiona.
They walked through the familiar neighborhood at a steady pace. The mud beneath their
feet was the biggest hindrance to their journey. In the distance, Mary could make out a
scattering of lights that she knew to be coming from the main town. Stretched out in

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front of them was the end of the road which divided to the left and right. A short
distance ahead of the junction, two double-storied, brightly lit buildings stood side by
side. Vague sounds of shouts and laughter floated from their depths. The road to the left
wove through the small trading center and right into the town while the road to the right
led off to the other less inhabited parts of the district. They took the latter.
"Stay close to me," Phiona warned. They passed through a small, shop congested area. It
had small bars, restaurants and retail shops all lined up one beside the other. Several
people standing outside a bar made loud, rude comments as they passed by and Mary
understood the need to heed Phiona's words of caution. She tried not to look at any of
the drunken merrymakers as they walked past and she moved extremely close to Phiona.
Presently, they reached the tarmac road that snaked its way through the entire district.
The drizzle had slightly increased in its intensity and Mary could no longer feel her feet
from the cold that had easily penetrated the thin soles of her shoes. Her shoes themselves
were soaked and muddy. Phiona tugged at Marys arm and they began to move along the
extreme left of the road, occasionally moving even further to the edge whenever a
vehicle raced by, sending a shower of droplets to their feet and lower legs.
The road took an unexpected dip then ascended again to reveal another junction. They
branched off the main road onto a gravel and dirt road that led to an area called
Rugarama. It was a place Mary had visited only once in living memory. It was then
that she had an idea as to where they were headed.
Angel croaked constantly. Mary tried to shield him from the stray raindrops by angling
the cage between her body and the bag she was caring. His movement and sound
reduced.
There was only one person they knew that lived in the area: Phiona's sister, Aunt
Martha. Mary had visited her Aunt on only one occasion and hadn't enjoyed the
experience. Martha herself was okay but her three children, not so much. Phiona hardly
ever talked about her relatives and as a result, Martha was the only relation (aside from
her father) that Mary knew about. It was strange and disturbing business to Mary
because it made her wonder what could drive her mother that far away from her own
family.
Mary's suspicions about their destination where confirmed when they arrived at a large
bungalow surrounded by a neatly manicured fence and a grey painted, iron gate at its
front. Long spikes that pointed skyward run along the gate top. Phiona tapped sharply
against the metal and waited.
Five minutes later, a yellow light could be seen through the narrow slit between the two
iron doors. It became larger and brighter as the person beholding it came closer. They

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could tell that whoever it was, stood just behind the gate. An unseen latch in the metallic
door clanged opened and a pair of narrowed eyes peered through a small opening.
"Who is it?" A half-shouted inquiry was made by the person behind the gate.
"Its Phiona," Phiona said, her body half bent in an attempt to speak clearly through the
box shaped hole.
"Who?" The voice was unusually high pitched.
Phiona. Phiona Asimwe. Marthas sister.
"Wait there," the voice commanded. The latch was closed and the light disappeared.
Except for the soft pattering of the light drizzle on their umbrella, all was silent. Mary
felt an itching behind her eyes.
The rain drops, Mary said softly. Phiona turned and stared at her daughters dazzled
look.
Are you seeing the colors? Phiona asked. Mary nodded. It was beautiful. The drops of
rain which anyone would see as ordinary rain drops seemed to sparkle with a silverywhite and blue glow. They were like little jewels falling from the sky. The far off rain
looked normal. How amazing that she was able to see them so differently! How
beautiful they looked!
They are changing.....no they are blue again. Mary had noticed a ripple-like change in
the color of the rain drops. As a gust of wind had twisted the direction of the droplets
they seemed to reflect red and maroon....
Mary felt an itching in her eyes. She rubbed them. Upon reopening them, the droplets
had returned to their normal appearance. A few minutes later, metallic bolts clanged as
they slid open. Phiona and Mary were let in. Marthas first expression was one of
surprise and confusion. Her younger sister, whom she hardly ever saw, had
unexpectedly appeared at her door step in the middle of the night. Even as she greeted
and embraced Phiona, Mary could see the wonder in her Aunts eyes as she took in their
half soaked and shabby appearance.
"How long it has been since your last visit! Is this young Mary?" Martha asked in
surprise as she fixed her glinting eyes upon Mary. "How you have grown!" Mary too
was pulled into a tight hug.
Martha was a plump, jolly natured woman whose round face and puffed cheeks seemed
to reflect that very character trait. Her eyes were identical to Phiona's and aside from her
generally larger body shape she was almost indistinguishable from her sister. She wore-

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as she often did-one of her many multicolored traditional dresses with a turban around
her head. Mary looked around at the well-furnished room. It was almost like she
remembered it from her last visit. She however didn't see her Uncle Phillip and his three
troublesome children: Tom, Angela and Michael.
"They will be back tomorrow. Phillip took them to see a family friend," Martha
informed her guests. Even though Martha seemed genuinely surprised to see them, she
knew something was amiss. Her relatives were here under a circumstance greater than
the urge for a social visit. Knowing that they would stay for the night at least, she
immediately led them off to the guest room which was surprisingly small and located at
the back of the house. It contained one bed, a table and cupboard in the corner. A thin
old carpet covered the floor. A small round bulb hung from a short wire that disappeared
through a hole in the ceiling. It cast a dull orange glow in the room. Martha apologized
for the state of the room.
"If I had known you were coming I would have made preparations."
"No. This is fine," Phiona said hastily, "you were kind enough to let us stay."
Phiona and Mary placed the bags (which had given Mary back and arm pain from
carrying) in the cupboard and the parrot cage on the table. They both fell on the bed,
totally exhausted.
Their first agenda was to take a hot bath as they were no doubt frozen cold. The story
detailing, the reason for their sudden homelessness, would have to wait. For now,
settling in was the thing. Martha brought them a flask of steaming black tea along with
dozens of thick slices of bread. Mary fed some bits of bread to the pet bird. The day had
brought with it an unfortunate turn of events but at least they had a roof over their heads.
At least.

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CHAPTER FOUR

Their stay, which was initially supposed to last for a night, stretched into days, then a
week and finally a month. Phiona left the house during the day to work as well as search
for another premise that she could rent. Mary spent most of her time alone in the guest
room. If she wasn't drawing, or playing with the parrot, she simply lay on the musty bed,
staring absently at the ceiling.
Pleasant though the place was-in terms of living conditions-she had no desire to be
anywhere except the small space to which she and Phiona had been assigned. The
decision to do so was greatly influenced by the nasty behavior of her three incredibly
unpleasant cousins. Whether it was characteristic, inborn nature or simply the common
naughtiness displayed by pampered children but her cousins had an uncanny tendency
for bulling. They made endless jokes about her and her 'condition', not unlike her peers
at her former school.
"Grasshopper! Bones!" These were some of the numerous jokes and insults hurled at her
by Tom and Angela. Michael being the youngest of the three hardly said anything to her

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but always seemed amused by the taunting of his older siblings. Also he gave Mary a
look of something resembling contempt. It was unfortunate that Mary despised the only
relatives she knew but there was nothing for it. Just like the children at her school, the
material superiority her cousins didn't impress her in the least. In fact, given the choice
of going back to their old home or remaining with her relatives, she would gladly choose
the former.
At least Martha was always kind to her. One could go so far as to say she treated Mary
like the young girl was her own child. She seemed extremely worried about Marys size
and was forever shoving food her way. With her it was always 'have this' or 'have that'
and 'eat this'. Or if it was after a meal, 'are you sure you do not want more Mary?'
Mary was grateful for the kindness shown and was satisfied with the nourishment she
was receiving but tried not to get used to it. Any day now, Phiona would find a new
home and they would move on. The inevitable chain process of their lives would
commence.
Another member of the family that showed Mary a low level of hospitality was Marthas
husband Phillip. He was a tall, thin, bespectacled, tough looking man that seemed to
always be on the lookout for something out of place or unusual. His long lean face and
swift movements gave him a militaristic appearance. Mary found it difficult to look
directly into her Uncles eyes as she had this feeling he was trying to discern her. It was
clear that Phillip wanted Phiona and her daughter out of the house as quickly as possible.
Mary was amazed at the vast array of toys that the children owned. Sometimes she
watched Michael and Tom smash up their toys in feverish excitement during their nearly
unlimited leisure time. She herself had only ever owned one toy in her entire life: a doll
that had now gotten too old to be used anymore. She could not help but notice Angelas
several dozen dolls that could fill up a large box.
During her extended periods of redundancy in her room, Mary observed Angel closely.
He seemed less active than usual and this was somewhat bothering. He had always been
a talkative and active parrot. She made it a point to double the food put in its cage but
this didn't seem to help. She hoped the bird wasn't coming down with an illness or
anything of the sort. She was very fond of it and hoped to keep it for as long as possible.
One of the many generous deeds to Mary by her Aunt was the purchase of a new dress.
This was by far the most appreciated of the favors because Mary had owned only two
dresses for around two years now and they were completely worn out.
Mary could tell that Phiona was finding it hard to locate a new place that they could
move into. Every evening, she returned with her shoulders slumped and her eyes
downcast.

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In the rare event that Mary left the bedroom, she wandered around the house looking at
its interior designs like they were museum artifacts. It was very fortunate she did so
because she came across something that was indeed worth her while. Hanging on one of
the white walls of one of the corridors, in a large beautifully designed frame was a
photograph of a group of five smiling people: two adults and three children.
The thing that immediately caught her attention was a line of five names imprinted along
the photo's base. Peter, Martha, James, Anne, Phiona. In the black and white photo, the
two adults were standing behind three chairs on which the children sat. The man wore a
breast pinned suit and had a strong powerful look about him. A thick mustache was
perched just above the smiling mouth. He had a small head afro. The woman beside him
similarly wore a large smile on her pretty face and her head was covered in a turban-like
cloth. The three children seated in front of the man and woman seemed a few years older
than Mary herself. Two girls were at the extreme right and left and a boy in the middle.
It didn't take long for Mary to realize that she was looking at the family she'd never
known. She stepped closer. The teenage Phiona from so many years ago smiled back at
her. Even at that age she looked very much like the adult Phiona. Her eyes still bore the
same hard-to-define warmth. Mary looked at Martha, then at the boy seated between the
girls. So that was Phiona's brother-her Uncle. She looked at him a long moment.
Wondering who he was, what life he led today and why Phiona had never talked about
him. The man and woman must be my grandparents then, Mary thought. It was far
likely than not that they were both deceased. She stood there for what felt like hours.
She was only prompted to move away by the fear that one of her cousins might find her
there.

The brief escapes out of the room sometimes had nasty consequences. The most
memorable one came when she dared to venture into the homestead back compound. It
was well fenced with deep green leveled grass and was in Marys opinion very attractive
and comfortable. She'd barely made it a few steps across the expanse when Tom came
up to her from nowhere. He wore the familiar, mischievous look on his face as he often
did when he was up to no good.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. Mary noticed that he kept one hand hidden behind
his back. When no reply to his question came, he pulled his hand out from behind his
back to reveal a wriggling, scale covered lizard twisting and turning between his
forefinger and thumb. How she feared crawly creatures! She made to turn around and
ran back into the house but suddenly felt his hand slide down her shirt and the lizard was
scrambling on her back.

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"Ewww! Get it off! Get it off!" Mary shrieked. The nasty fiend! Tom and his siblings
enjoyed a good laugh until Martha heard Mary's shouts and came to rid her of the little
terror.
"Tom! Angela! I don't want you playing such games again! Do you hear me?! She was
clearly distraught at her children's behavior. Mary quickly ran back to the bedroom.

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CHAPTER FIVE

On the day of their departure, Martha gave her sister and niece a teary goodbye and
wished them the best. She knew she wouldn't be seeing her sister for a long time after
that and it saddened her that they hardly ever spoke to each other. As they left the place,
Mary felt that her small, personal bag was a bit heavier than usual. Upon looking inside
she found one of her cousins dolls placed inside: a surprise gift from Angela.

Their next place of residence was the basement of a particularly large house. Phiona had
agreed to pay the house owners a small monthly fee for as long as the duration of their
stay. It was a bit disappointing but it was the best Phiona could do at the time.
"We shall move out very soon," Phiona assured her daughter. "Our stay here is going to
be very short." Mary wanted to believe her mothers assurances but knew that the
ghastly basement was going to be their home for quite a while. Never the less, she fully
understood her mothers financial position and was grateful that they at least had a roof
over their heads.
The basement, which was located directly beneath the house was essentially one room
divided into two. At the base of the left wall were a pile of discarded domestic material.
Two small intercepting, wooden walls in one corner of the room formed a box that
housed the toilet and bathroom. It had one window that opened outward to the back side
of the mansion. The place smelled of dust and cobwebs hung from the ceiling.
Rats and other small insects darted back and forth across the floor. The extremely poor
lighting gave one the illusion of being inside a cave.
"Let us start arranging," Phiona said. They went about trying to make the place more
inhabitable. The collection of broken and old debris seemed never ending. The place
was clearly a dump.
The house above it however, was one of intricate beauty. It displayed wealth of such
proportions that Mary was awestruck. It had large, well maintained gardens that beheld

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tall elegant trees and plants. Porches belonging to the numerous rooms, stuck out from
the structure.
"Try to stay inside as much as you can. Do not move about on the compounds a lot,"
Phiona instructed. It was a very limiting restriction but it was one of the conditions laid
out by the house owner. Their lives and those of the actual inhabitants of the house
would coincide as little as possible.
"They have a young boy, he is about your age. Have you seen him?"
"Yes," Mary replied.
"You can talk to him but just a little. Do not become too close."
Mary nodded her affirmation. She had indeed planned on developing some form of
friendship with the young child of the house.
As time went by she realized that the boy bore no interest in her anyway. He did stare at
her whenever they were insight of each other but that was all. He would stare at her with
as much curiosity as she regarded him. She eventually lost interest in the whole thing.

Staying in the basement was perhaps the most uncomfortable experience Phiona and
Mary had faced yet. During the night, cold air continuously blew through the holes in
the glass window, chilling them to the bone. They shared the only bed in the place and
while they were used to doing this, this bed was much smaller than their former one,
turning their nighttime sleeping into a complex process. As if this wasn't enough, the
mattress, like most of the things in the room was infested with bedbugs.
Internal factors weren't the only things giving them hard time. The rising food costs cut
down on their already poor diet. At times Phiona offered her share of the meal to Mary
so her daughter could have an actual supper or lunch. Just like in their former home,
Phiona went to work every morning while Mary did the house chores. When Mary got
free time (which was often), she drew.
On a particularity hot afternoon, Phiona arrived in the basement looking unusually
happy about something. She actually smiled as she said, "Do you remember your
teacher Edwin?" She had sat down almost immediately and seemed intent on getting on
with what she had to say.
"Yes," Mary replied. Edwin had been one of her favorite teachers while at school. He
was a good natured man that had showed unprecedented interest in Mary's talent.

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"I met him at the shops today," Phiona began, "he asked me about you and if you were
still interested in art and drawing." Mary wondered where the conversation was going.
"Of course I told him yes and he said he has an offer for you. Like a job."
"A job? You mean work?"
"Not a real job but you will be paid some money," Phiona said.
"By selling my pictures?" Mary asked with even more surprise.
"Yes," Phiona said grinning from ear to ear. "He knows a way in which you can earn
money form that wonderful artwork of yours. Phiona was undoubtedly taking this as
wonderful news and seemed aside herself with happiness. It was good news to Mary too
but her happiness was mingled with a drop of shock. She had never viewed her drawings
from a commercial perspective. Phiona was already moving around the room, tiding it
up.
"He said he is coming here today." She worked as she spoke.
"Perhaps he wants to look at your other drawings...."
In the evening, the familiar Mr. Edwin walked through the basement door.
He was a middle sized school teacher who had the habit of frequently wearing a brown
tweed jacket commonly associated with professors. He was a handsome, light skinned
man. Except for a few hairs that formed a thin layer at the base of his skull he was bald.
The strap of a black bag hung on his shoulder. He took in his surroundings with a look
that could vaguely be described as amusement. Phiona jumped forward immediately to
shake his hand.
"Don't be shy Mary. Come and greet your teacher," she said. Mary walked over to the
man that had greatly encouraged her to pursue her talent. Edwin grasped her thin hand
firmly.
"How is it with you Mary? Sorry about your leaving school but no worries young one, I
tell you!" he said earnestly. Mary mumbled her greeting. She was often tongue tied
around the perceptive and over enthusiastic teacher.
"Now be a good girl and show him your drawings," Phiona said. Just like Phiona, Edwin
seemed aside himself with expectancy. Mary fumbled through her tattered books and
selected three pictures which she handed to the art teacher. One was her favorite: a
snowy white dove perched on a tree branch. The other was of an old farmer walking

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down a yellow and green grass covered hillside and the other, a beautifully designed jar.
Edwin scrutinized them while smiling and nodding his head simultaneously.
"Very good, very good," he kept muttering. He then extracted a few other paintings from
his bag which he placed beside Mary's own and began to examine both sets. Phiona was
watching them. The smile on her face hadn't wavered.
"Very good....are you sure you drew these yourself?" Edwin asked. Mary nodded.
"Come and see this," Edwin turned and spoke to Phiona. She came over.
"You see these other paintings I brought with me?" he asked.
"I do."
"They were drawn by professional artists. People with long time experience in painting
and drawing."
Phiona waited.
"When I compare them with Marys drawings they have almost the same quality. It is
amazing...and at such a young age! It is quite unheard of." Phiona looked at her daughter
as if seeing her for the first time. Her face was a mixture of wonder and satisfaction.
Edwin rumbled on. Mary understood half of what he said. He kept using unfamiliar
English words in the middle of his sentences.
".....the paint strokes and curves. The way she handles the brush and pencil. They are
indeed marks of extraordinary talent."
"Do you think she can work at your store?" Phiona asked, unable to contain herself.
Edwin hesitated. His gaze fixed on the silent girl seated in front of him.
"There is the issue of age. She is a bit young.....," he said.
Phiona began to look concerned.
"Is she too young?" she asked.
Edwin nodded slowly and Phionas excitement was deflated. Mary felt slightly
disappointed even though she hadn't been that expectant to begin with. Still, from
Edwin's relaxed composure it was safe to assume he had already thought of a solution to
this small hurdle.
"I will take some of these," he said as he picked up two of Mary's drawings.
Ill see if my collages and I can sell them."

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"After that, I shall take Mary to the store everyday so that she can see how things work
and if she can cope...if she can manage then she shall start."
Phiona didn't look convinced. Mary thought it was as fair a plan as any.
"We shall give her one week," Edwin continued. He was now facing Phiona, his bag
already hoisted over his shoulder in preparation to leave.
"One week.....one week.....," Phiona muttered as she mulled the thought over. She
looked up at her visitor in surprise.
"Are you leaving? I have prepared something...."
Edwin looked apologetic.
"I am in quite a hurry. Thank you for your time...." He hastily made his way to the door.
Mary was silent for a long time after he left.

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CHAPTER SIX

When Mary went to feed Angel the following day, she immediately knew that
something was wrong. The pet seemed to lean on the side of the cage more than usual,
plus it was oddly still. After tapping gently on the bars several times, she slipped her
fingers through and gently poked its side. It was then that she knew that the parrot was
dead. The poor animal flopped to the cage floor from the force that had been exerted
onto it. Mary immediately felt an emotional pang of a magnitude that surprised her.
True it was only a pet but the four years during which she had owned the bird had
created an inexplicable link between the two of them. Mary had only one good (human)
friend in her life: a young boy that had studied with her at her former school. This
parrot, Angel, had been her companion in more ways than one.
She slowly sat down and felt an unbidden sadness growing inside her. Why did she feel
so bad that it had happened?
"Don't be so sad," Phiona said, startling Mary. She had been silently standing behind her
daughter: watching the girls anguish. Feeling silly, Mary asked,
"How did it-I mean why did it die?" She was unable to hold back the choke in her voice.
"It must have been very sick," was the reply. The unspoken reality was that it had died
from hunger.

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"Come. Let us bury it properly," Phiona said, seeing that the death of the beloved bird
had affected Mary greatly.
Mary carried the cage out of the basement and into the sunlit compound of the grand
estate. Phiona led the way across a large stretch of grass to a flower covered corner right
next to the wide fence. She kept glancing up at the big house as if expecting someone to
come out at any moment and scold them for moving on the compound. The flowers
formed a wide semicircle and were surprisingly wild and unchecked. Never the less it
was a brilliant combination of colors. Seeing them reminded Mary about the parrot's
similarly attractive feathers.
The gardener (who had been passing by) offered to dig a small hole in the ground. Mary
was given the honor of laying the body in the ground and finally it was covered with
dirt. As the gardener leveled the ground over the grave Mary recalled the first time she'd
received the bird. It had been a gift from one of Phiona's friends. Phiona had taken her to
the home of an animal lover. At the end of the visit, their host had taken Mary to her
basement which contained a wide collection of animals. Exotic birds, monkeys, reptiles,
cats....it was amazing. Mary was given a beautiful bird that she named Angel there and
then.
I have been teaching it to say Flying in the Sky!, the lady told Mary.
Why?
I have also been teaching it to fly in spiral fashion, the lady explained. She told Mary
all about the circular fly movements that the bird could do. Mary took Angel home.
Phiona waited patiently as her daughter stared at the small grave. The gardener
continued to lean on his staff and with an amused expression on his face, he watched the
eleven year old.
They finally returned to the basement. Mary carefully placed the empty cage in the
corner of the room on top of a pile of old books. Phiona spent the rest of the morning
tiding up the place. At lunch, they ate their customary soup and potatoes and then
Phiona left for work.
Nowadays Phiona had to work two jobs to keep them afloat. This meant that she was
twice as busy and thus found less and less time to spend with Mary. Mary didn't like the
way her mother appeared of recent: gaunt and stressed out. On top of that, her stomach
had grown larger. Mary liked to spend hours making up names for the baby. Whether it
was boy or girl, she would finally have some company: after it had grown a few years of
course. As she sat in the cold, semi-dark room with her knees folded up to her chest and
Phiona's brown coat covering her from the neck down, she noticed a glittering object
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that her mother had accidentally left lying around. It was a necklace Phiona had worn for
as long as Mary could remember.
Out of sheer redundancy, Mary got up and picked the valuable metal from the floor near
the wooden stand from which it had fallen and returned to her position. The metal
crisscrossed through her fingers. She loved the feel of the cold metal and the light
bouncing off its surface caused a pleasant glittering effect. Also, she liked to speculate
about what the words Wings like an Eagle that were inscribed on the necklace meant.
Beside the words were a bunch of strange markings.
"It was a present from a special person," Phiona had once told Mary. She still hadn't told
Mary who that special person was. Only that she'd gotten it before she, Mary was born.
Could the gift have been from her anonymous father? Another thing that made the
necklace special was its value alone. Phiona claimed it was pure gold. It certainly looked
like real gold. Phiona had never sold it not only because it was a gift but it was their last
and only real valuable possession.
Mary carefully put it around her neck. It was large and loose fitting. She looked for a
small mirror in one of the moldy cupboards and admired herself in its reflection. She
posed awkwardly on the bed. She eventually drifted off to sleep in that position. Her
unconscious mind was flooded with confusing and disturbing dreams.
She was awoken what felt like seconds later by Phiona who had returned from work.
The window displayed a small portion of the dark horizon: it was late evening. Phiona's
concerned face peered at Mary, partially visible from the very dim light coming from the
ceiling bulb.
"You do not usually sleep during the day. Whats the matter? Are you hungry?" Phiona
inquired.
Mary nodded. Her stomach was grumbling. Phiona placed down the small plastic bag
that contained their shopping.
"I thought I had lost this," she said as she reached to remove the necklace from Marys
neck. "Where did you find it? I searched everywhere."
"You dropped it by mistake. I found it there."
Phiona carefully placed it away and turned to face her daughter.
"Tomorrow is your birthday," she said. The statement took Mary by surprise and was
shocked she'd forgotten that the following day she would be turning twelve. Of course
birthdays in their home were nothing more than a day to be recognized and no serious
emphasis was put to them.
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"What do you want for your birthday?" Phiona asked. The inquiry in itself was a
surprise to Mary. She giggled excitedly.
"I don't know, Mary replied. Let me think." After a few seconds of silence it suddenly
occurred to Mary that her mother was simply being kind. There was no way she could
afford any decent gift. Putting food on their table alone was stretching her resources to
the limit. This suspicion momentarily froze her mental search of a desired gift. Phiona
could tell her daughter was doubting the genuineness of the question.
"Don't be like that," Phiona said and she sat down on the bed beside Mary." You must
want something at least. Another doll?"
Mary was thinking. The prospect of a gift, even if it wasn't a surprise, was very
tempting. A previously forgotten memory sprang into her mind: a memory of a grassy
expanse with a glittering lake in front of it.
"Yes?" Phiona prompted, having seen the glint in Mary's eyes. Mary hesitated.
"Do you remember that place we saw beside the lake?" she asked.
"Which place?" Phiona asked confused.
"That place! The one with a big old house and many people sitting and walking on the
grass, looking at the lake!"
Phiona thought for a minute and realized what her daughter was talking about. Many
months ago, she and her daughter had passed by the district's renowned Lake Buyonyi
(translated as Birds) on their way to someones home.
Mary had gotten a quick look at one of the grass beaches of the lake and for some
reason had been overwhelmingly excited.
At the time, she had begged Phiona to let them spend some time there but they were on a
tight schedule and Phiona had adamantly refused.
"I remember, Phiona said. You are talking about the beach."
"The what?"
"A place where people go to relax, sit and look at the lake. So that is what you want? A
trip to the beach?"
Mary nodded enthusiastically. Phiona was satisfied that Mary was happy with the
birthday plans. She stood up.
"We shall go tomorrow in the evening."
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Mary began to prepare a charcoal stove while Phiona went about making their supper.
She hummed and sang as she went about her business and Mary was grateful for the
good mood. Before long, they were both seated in front of a saucepan of bubbling water
and food, nested on top of a fire.
The story book was out and Phiona was reading.
"....the warrior and the three travelers that had joined him walked along the lonely road
as the Master had commanded....but there was no food and the travelers began to
complain. So they quarreled with the Warrior and said, 'Give us food to eat and water to
drink.
The Warrior replied 'Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the Master to the
test?' but the travelers were thirsty for water....and they still grumbled against the
Warrior. They said, Why did you bring us out of the City of Death to make us die of
hunger and thirst?'
Why were they angry with the Master? Mary interrupted. Phiona looked at her
daughter. "Isn't he the one that helped them out of that bad city?" Mary continued.
Phiona nodded.
"It was the way they were," Phiona explained, "even after getting help from the Master
they always found a reason to complain." Her eyes shone with the reflected, dancing
orange flames from the stove.
Phiona continued to read about how Master commanded the Warrior to speak to a huge
marble stone out of which water would pour forth for them to drink. Mary mentally
envisioned the Warrior standing beside what she imagined as a large rock. She tried to
picture water coming out of the rock but it wasn't easy.
They ate their supper in silence. Mary stuffed down the food without really tasting it.
She was too excited about the next days journey. It would be the first time, in a long
while since she'd gone any place even remotely interesting or exciting.
That night, as she lay beside Phiona in their bed, she found it difficult to sleep. Getting
sleep in the uncomfortable state of sharing a small bed was usually hard. The days
events kept replaying themselves inside her head. It was a sad irony that Angel had died
on the eve of her birthday.
In the seclusion of her private space, she allowed herself a few tears in memory of her
beloved pet. Her impending birthday made her contemplate her future. Where would she
be in the years to come? She couldn't think of any type of life outside the one she had
with her mother. For the tenth time that night, she turned over in the bed. She moved
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closer to the warmer body of Phiona. The window's gaping hole kept blowing a steady
stream of cold air inside. With her thumb and forefinger, she squashed a bed bug that
had crawled its way across her neck. She wiped her finger tips on the threadbare sheets
and squeezed her eyes shut in another attempt to gain sleep.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

They set off for the lakeside much earlier than Mary had anticipated. The fact they had
to walk almost the entire distance didn't bother Mary at all, although her feet did feel
sore from the heat that seeped through the thin soles of her shoes.
They had to walk along a never ending dusty and stony road to get to their destination.
The road to the famed lake snaked its way up a large hill. Mary's artistic eye drunk in the
entire scenery on the way: the vast stretch of trees that stuck up from the side of the
hills, the valleys, distant purple and white meadows and silvery rivers slithered at the
base of the hills that filled the landscape. They passed by small farm houses perched in
front of animal filled paddocks. An occasional pedestrian or cyclist moved down the
hill. By the time they arrived at the lakeside they were both sweaty and dusty.
They came to a curve in the road that finally brought them to a stop. The road took a
sharp right and disappeared out of sight but a yard or so in front of them, beside the road
curve, was an overly artistic tall, wooden gate beyond which Mary could see the expanse
of grass almost as she had remembered it. A bored looking gatekeeper let them in. Mary
was immediately impressed by her surroundings. Here and there, people were either
seated or walking to relax themselves.
The grass underfoot was well cut and Mary removed her shoes to let the softness of the
blades caress her sore feet. She wiggled her toes and already felt intoxicated by the
relaxed atmosphere surrounding her. At the end of the grass stretch, the lake spread out
into the distance.
Its surface was a delightful mixture of blue, white and grey. The sun rays bounced of its
surface creating thousands of glittering spots all over it. As Mary's life went, this was a
wonderful birthday present. Phiona laughed from sheer happiness when she noticed her
daughters evident delight. She sat down and watched Mary ran over to the water edge.
There were several children her age running around the place as well. Mary was drawn
to the uneasy feeling-as she always was-that they looked better dressed and well fed.
Even all the adults seemed of a better social class than Phiona and herself. She noticed
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too, the glances from several people as they took in her dusty and worn out looking
attire.
Still, nothing could dampen Mary's mood and she walked closer to the water edge. A
cluster of water reeds stuck out at her.
"Be careful," Phiona's voice spoke from behind her and Mary turned to see that her
mother had followed her, "stay clear from the edge."
Already at the edge, Mary got down on all fours and craned her neck to get a better look
at what lay below the water surface.
"Careful," Phiona repeated. She sounded nervous at her daughter's unexpected and
reckless bravado. Mary continued to scan the water. Minutes passed by before Mary
suddenly exclaimed,
"Look!" Phionas eyes followed Mary's outstretched hand that pointed to a particular
spot in the water. As she'd suspected, Mary wanted to see the live fish and sure enough
two silvery grey fish darted back and forth near the water surface. They moved in a
random fashion with no apparent pattern or objective. More interesting still was Mary's
fascination with them. Phiona didn't know that aspect of her daughter.
"Mark has one like them," Mary said.
"Who?"
"My friend from school. Mark," Mary replied. Mary's desire to visit the beach made
more sense now. Mark was a boy that had been studying in her class at school. Even for
best friends, they were both extremely close and shared everything from hobbies to
secrets. Anybody who knew them both wouldn't be surprised in the least by their
friendship except for the fact they were social class opposites. Mark was the son of a
man with enormous wealth. There was almost nothing he wanted or needed that he
didn't have.
In their early school days, Mary had-out of curiosity-asked Mark why, his father being
who he was had sent his child to a public school. Mark had then explained to her that his
father was an old boy of the school and possessed a stubborn if not obsessive loyalty for
the school heritage. Mark and Mary both shared a passion for art among other things.
During a memorable visit to his spectacular home, Mark had shown her one of his pet
animals: a goldfish in a circular glass orb. Its golden brown skin presented wondrous
beauty to Mary's art loving eye. How she loved it! In all Mark's numerous possessions
she appreciated it the most. For months after the visit, she'd fantasized about owning one
of her own.
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She became aware that several children had gathered around her. One by one, they had
become intrigued by what she was looking at. Phiona had wondered off a little further
up the beach.
"Move away from there!" said the voice of a young man that was steadily approaching
the small group. "Move away!" he repeated with a sweeping gesture of his hand. "The
water is deep. You could fall in...."
The children scattered and Mary made her way back up the grassy slope. The big old
house she'd seen last time was now a totally different structure. It had been renovated
into some sort of lodge. Its wide glass windows flashed from the reflected sunlight.
A small white minivan that had just passed through the gate caught Mary's attention.
Through its windows, she could see twenty or so excited looking children. On the side
of the van, imprinted in thick blue letters were the words;

NEW HOPE ORPHANAGE

She watched as the children streamed out of the vehicle. It was a mixture of boys and
girls. For a minute, she forgot all about relaxing and enjoying herself. Her focus was
entirely on the children. A stern looking lady seemed to be in charge of them. She
barked orders and called them by name.
Mary noticed that their clothes were rather like hers: simple, with a worn out look. Mary
couldn't explain why but for some reason, she got the idea that these children spent a lot
of time indoors. A mental depiction of a crowded miserable home filled her mind and it
made her quite uneasy.
"Mary! It is time to go!" Phiona's voice floated through the misty fog of Mary's
thoughts. She turned to her calling mother and together, they walked away. Mary
glanced back one more time at the children. They were now being marched across the
grounds as one would see a tour guide do to a gathering of visiting tourists. Why did the
sight give her a cold, queasy feeling in her gut?
Her brief preoccupation with them caused her to stumble over a large stone sticking out
of the ground a few feet from the gate. She went down hard on the gravel with nothing
but her thin hands to break the fall. She felt a sharp pain in her wrist. Phiona was at her
side immediately.
"Sorry...sorry...are you alright?"
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Mary whimpered and rubbed her wrist. It hurt a lot.

"Don't cry," Phiona cooed, "let me see..."
"Don't touch! It hurts."
"Okay. Here, stand up."
Mary nodded, her face screwed up in an effort to hold back tears.
"Don't cry. We will treat it at home. Come..."
They began their trek back home. They arrived when it was almost dark. The basement
that was their home seemed gloomier than ever. A rat scurried across the floor and out
of sight behind a junk filled box. The basement was constantly used as a store for junk
that the house inhabitants no longer needed.
Phiona rubbed ointment on Mary's inflamed wrist before wrapping a bandage around it.
It hurt a lot less now and all she could feel was a dull throbbing pulsing through the
veins.
All in all, it wasn't what you could call a perfect ending to her birthday but she had no
complaints whatsoever. Phiona made them their usual soup and potatoes meal and after
a quick traditional story time they made for bed. Mary's last thought as she passed into
oblivion was to wonder if Mark had remembered her birthday.

When Mary awoke the following morning, she was immediately aware that her wrist
had swollen quite significantly. It hurt to lift or use anything with her hand. The full
impact of this handicap hit her when she realized she couldn't draw or paint as it was too
painful to do so. This robbed her of a lot of her pass time and she found herself
wandering around with absolutely nothing to do.
"Don't look like that Mary," Phiona said when she noticed her daughters gloomy
expression. "Be patient. Your hand will heal." Phiona rarely even had time to have a real
conversation with Mary. Her door to door selling of merchandise kept her away for
hours and often left her exhausted.
Mary took to searching through the pile of boxes in the room and chanced upon an old
chess board. She had played chess at her school and loved it. With one hand, she played
against herself several times before becoming bored with it as well.

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An excited Edwin came to pay them an unexpected visit with what could have turned
out to be good news. His coat shoulders and bag were dotted with wet spots from the
light drizzle outside.
"I think I have found a very good deal for Mary," he told Phiona after she had sat him
down and handed him a steaming cup of tea.
"What kind of deal?"
"A friend of mine, a wonderful professor from India by the name of Aabha has agreed to
give Mary money in exchange of her drawings. Small amounts but still.... "
He explained that the man was all the way from India and worked with a company that
promoted artists of various sorts. Phiona gave an excited exclamation.
"This is good news indeed!" She turned to see that Mary was listening. Edwin held up
his hand. "First, she has to draw a few sample pictures for him today."
Phiona's smile wavered.
"Mary had an....accident, she said. She-her hand is hurt. The one she uses to draw."
Edwin looked taken aback by this piece of news.
"How long is Mr. Aabha's offer open?" Phiona asked. Edwin didn't answer. Instead, he
extracted a large pad and pencil from his bag and handed them to Mary.
"Draw something," he said. She tried. It was no good. Twisting her wrist sent violent
jolts of pain across her hand. After a few minutes of feeble attempts she placed the
pencil down. Edwin slumped against the chair back, looking thoroughly disappointed.
Phiona could see the deal slipping away.
"Perhaps if she started when the swelling has reduced a bit. It won't take more than a
few days," she said. Edwin shook his head sadly.
"Mr. Aabha is returning to India tomorrow. He only agreed to see her today." Between
the two adults it was hard to say who looked more disappointed. Mary herself felt bad
about the timing of her injured wrist but something about her mothers face expression
made her suspect she, Mary didn't know the full meaning of a lost opportunity. It
seemed that Edwin had put a lot of his time and energy into this. A seemingly never
ending moment of awkward silence passed between the three. Mary squirmed in her
seat.
The rest of the visit, Edwin and Phiona shared small talk about the falling education
standards in the country. It was scanty, shallow talk and Edwin soon left. He cast one
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last sad look in Mary's direction before springing open his umbrella and heading out the
door.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

The toy she had unsuspectingly received from her cousin and Great Ugandan Art of the
Twenty First Century was all she had to keep herself occupied. She read about a
painting made by a famous painter who had lived years ago in the country. The painting,
called Chariot of Fire, had been (and still was) the most sought after work of art in the
country. The painting depicted a winged being-an Angel you could say-riding a chariot
that seemed surrounded but not consumed by fire. Mary read, fascinated about its
journey through history. Over the years it had been stolen, moved from one museum to
another, bought by wealthy individuals and even redone by other less skilled artists. It
was currently in the possession of an individual who preferred to remain anonymous.
Occasionally, she sneaked out of the room for fresh air and a stretch of her legs. She
half-hoped to run into one of the children living in the house above and one day she got
her wish. The house owners young son stood silently gazing at her like she was some
sort of alien. He turned and walked back into the house.
Back in the basement, Mary was constantly aware of a small black and white cat that
often crawled through the window to search the place for food. It never found any and
Mary didn't bother sending it away. Her need for a companion, even an animal
companion, was a sign of how bad her isolation was. Every time she saw it she
remembered Angel.
She came across various heirlooms that had once belonged to the inhabitants of the
house. An old grandfather cloak lay flat on its back amidst a pile of junk. Mary had
never seen anything like it and it took her a while to realize that it was in essence, a
clock. There was a guitar that Mary tried to lift out of the rubble as she wanted to have a
go at it but its position under a heavy box coupled with its size prevented her from
moving it an inch. There was even a dusty, small, leather bound dairy that Mary found
interesting. In it, were the details of the day to day happenings of its previous owners
life some many years ago. It even had very small drawn depictions on its yellow pages.
She later found an old music box that she got to work. It gave off a sad, old sounding

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tune that Mary found fascinating. She took the music box and placed it on a table that
leaned against the wall. She would use it later.
In the bottom drawer of the cupboard near their bed was a small wooden box that Phiona
had carried around for quite a while now. Mary still wondered about its use and Phiona
never elaborated. The box had a short slit at its top and a tiny padlock at its side that held
a metallic latch in place. Mary had given up trying to guess what her mother needed it
for.
The weather was getting colder as they slogged on through the rainy season. Sometimes
Phiona decided to take Mary along when she sold her merchandise but only did so when
absolutely necessary. Her job was tedious. She moved from door to door of peoples
houses selling her goods that she carried in an old brown bag and a basket.
Phiona sold a wide assortment of goods and snack foods like roasted groundnuts,
chewing gum, sweets, handkerchiefs and more. Once in a while,(when Mary looked
very weary indeed), Phiona gave her some snacks from the stock of food products.
Her wrist still gave her a hard time during her daily activities. The swelling had reduced
but was still no less painful. Just when she thought she couldn't go another day without
the full use of her hand, something was delivered to the basement door that drove her
wrist completely out of her mind.
When she answered the loud tapping on the door, she was immediately handed a letter
by the house servant. The letter was addressed to her in big capital letters. Only a
handful of people knew they lived here so who could it be from? She only had a few
moments of puzzlement before she tore it open and extracted a white sheet of paper
filled with a handwriting she had no problem recognizing. The letter was from Mark.

Dear Mary
How are things at your home? Over here things are fine. Sorry that I missed your
birthday. Our family had gone on a trip and Mother couldn't allow me to even send a
card!
I have been begging her and dad for weeks to let me visit you but the answer is always
no. Which is why I am writing now. Last week they said you could come and visit us.
Send me a reply as soon as you can.
from Mark.

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A visit to Mark's home! The thought was enough to put her in a good mood for the rest
of the day. She scrambled to find a paper on which to write a reply. As she wrote, she
wondered how Mark had known to send his letter to their new location of residence and
if Phiona would manage to deliver her letter. The moment Phiona walked through the
door Mary excitedly showed her the letter. Phiona smiled only because the news was of
such value to her child.
"Get your best dress clean and ready," she said as she went about her usual house
chores, "I'll take your reply tomorrow."
That meant that she Mary could probably go the day after! It was all she could do to
control her excitement.
Time has a habit of becoming incredibly slow when something desirable lies ahead and
the hours of the next day dragged on. Finally the awaited day arrived and Mary was off.
In the interest of time, Phiona and Mary used one of the motorcycle-taxis that roamed
the district. The rushing air blew hard against Mary's face. She saw the pedestrians and
cars flash by through half-closed eye lids. They raced through the bustling town and up a
smooth tarmac road that wove its way up a hill of an area that held many large and
luxurious residential homes.
There it was. It was every bit as magnificent as she remembered. At the moment, all
they could see were the orange tiles that covered the roof tops of the estate. The rest was
hidden by a tall white wall that surrounded the perimeter. They both got off the
motorcycle and walked up to the large, iron front gate. Phiona tapped twice on the metal.
A shiny, rectangular, gold-colored plate embedded in the wall at the side of the gate
read; 'THE ALLAN KATHY ESTATE.'
Mary was awed by the peace and quiet of the residence and the entire neighborhood in
general. Phiona looked at Mary from head to toe for around the tenth time, making sure
she was smart enough.
"Remember to be a good girl and behave yourself," Phiona warned. Mary knew that she
was recalling the previous visit when she and Mark had accidentally destroyed valuable
house property during their various games. They had both received no more than a slap
on the wrist.
"I will pick you up in the evening," as Phiona finished her sentence, the small door way
in the gate swung open. The man who had done so was obviously the gate keeper. He
immediately frowned and asked them what it was they wanted. Phiona replied that she
had come to drop off Mary as the girl was there on invitation. The grey haired gate man
continued to frown at Mary as if coming to terms with her appearance would somehow
validate her existence.
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Mary recognized the look on the man's face as he took in her clean but clearly old attire.
It was a look she had received more times than she could remember. The man had the
audacity to once again ask them what they wanted. Phiona repeated her answer with a
note of impatience in her voice. The man continued to frown. He finally said,
"Wait here." The small door was immediately shut. Five minutes later, they were let in.
Phiona inquired if Mark's parents were around and upon learning that they weren't in,
she said her goodbyes and left. Mary was escorted by the gate keeper along a beautiful
stone path. It was set in the middle of an extremely large compound that boasted half a
dozen small palm trees and bunched up flowers. Up ahead of the path in the middle of
two interconnecting driveways was a life-size stone fountain of a woman figure holding
a long thin pot out of which a jet of water poured. Beyond the fountain was the house
itself which was a large combination of balconies, windows and doors.
The actual beauty and splendor of the place wasn't what made Mary excited to be there.
It was the prospect of meeting the person who was more or less the only friend she had
ever had. She was every found of him. His family status had nothing to do with their
friendship.
As they approached the large front door a figure could be seen walking through the door
way and rapidly approaching them. Mary excitedly ran ahead to meet Mark. They
embraced: another one of the overly-friendly acts they liked.
"You look different," Mary said.
"How?"
"Fatter. Somehow." They both laughed.
"What happened?" Mark inquired, nodding towards her bandaged wrist.
"I fell," Mary said simply. Without thinking, she started to rub her wrist.
"Sorry," Mark said, sympathy mingling with his excitement. They walked back to the
front doors and into the house. A house servant walked up to the two and made her
greetings. She was slim, middle aged and wore a white apron.
"So this is the young Maria I hear so much about," she said, as she looked at the visitor
with interest, "Mark talks about you often."
"She is called Mary. Not Maria," Mark said.
"Mary. Sorry. Come, my young visitor," she said and she swiftly turned and moved
towards the large kitchen, "I have something prepared for you."
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Mary couldn't help but admire the large hallway with its white walls, high vaulted
ceilings, paintings, sculptures, and the black and white tiled floors. She was led into the
kitchen. It was lined with dozens of polished deep-brown wooden cupboards and
drawers. Many, wooden or plastic racks and bowls contained fruits or flowers. An
occasional vase or expensive looking stone sat on display.
Mark and Mary sat along the huge table in the middle of the room. A plate with a large
sandwich and a glass of juice was placed in front of Mary. The mind is a powerful thing
and it tricked Mary into believing she had picked up the food slowly and politely began
to eat yet in reality she was wolfing it down like a mad person. The maid looked at her
in astonishment as if the act was beyond the scope of her imagination.
Mary noticed the look but paid no attention. There was no use pretending about the
whole thing. When she was done, she and Mark were off. They began to catch up on
each others indulgences since the school term ended. They walked up the long staircase
that twisted and turned through the gigantic house. The house seemed like an endless
maze of rooms and corridors that it seemed an incredible feat that one could know their
way around them. A few house helpers walked to and fro carrying laundry. The two
children eventually reached Marks room
Marks room was large and filled with toys. It had a large window that gave a splendid
view of the front compound and in the distance, an endless series of orange roof tops
belonging to the houses that filled the hillside. Mary was quick to notice the pet goldfish
that swirled and swam in its glass orb that was placed on a cupboard right beside Marks
bed. Mark knew how much she liked it.
"It has grown bigger since the last time," he commented. Mary nodded.
"What's that inside?" she asked as she pointed at a green plant-like substance inside the
water. She had never seen it before.
"Food for the fish," Mark replied. Mary turned to look at the opposite wall on which
hung a pencil drawn picture that Mary remembered giving to Mark. It was of two stick
figures holding hands. The words 'Mark' and 'Mary' were written above them and a huge
word 'FRIENDS' under that.
"By the way, I have something to show you," Mark said. He removed a multi-colored
bracelet from his pocket. He handed it to her.
"Your birthday present." He stuck his hands in his pockets, "it's not much but..."
It was good and Mary thanked him. They spent the rest of the day talking and walking
around the huge compound. It was a very relaxing time for Mary because she had
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someone to talk to at last. The house-keeper, that Mary had met earlier, made occasional
checks on them. Mark took Mary to the giant swimming pool where he began to teach
her how to swim. During her last visit Mark had helped her learn basically how to keep
afloat. Today, he taught her the breast and back stroke. Mary proved to be a first learner.
She took her a surprisingly short time to learn both swimming techniques.
It took me days to learn them, Mark said in awe. It has taken you hours. Mary
wasnt listening. Her eyes were closed as if in meditation. She was lying on an
inflatable mattress-shaped balloon and lazily drifting near the pool edge. Mark was
seated on the pool edge with his legs dangling in the water.
What are you thinking about? Mark asked.
Nothing, Mary replied truthfully. Her entire body felt relaxed. After a while, she
began to imagine that she was floating in the clouds high above them. Dazzling white,
curled lines surrounded her. They were cool and soft. All was silent and peaceful. What
would it be like to have no thoughts? No ideas, no decisions, no worries, nothing. Just a
vague eternal bliss. It reminded her of a dream shed once had. In it, she had been
standing in a place that was difficult to describe and all she could remember was a lot of
white light. A group of people stood around her. They were all dressed in white robes.
She had been dressed in white robes as well. There was a general feeling of peace and
happiness in the air. Very beautiful, indescribable music floated around them all
.your face, Mark was saying something.
Sorry, what did you say? Mary opened her eyes and turned to him.
I said there is something different about your face.
What do you mean? Mary asked.
You seem.relaxed. I have never seen you look like that before. You always look
tense or worried.
Really?
Mark nodded.
Hmm, Mary said. She continued to day dream.
An hour later, when they were too exhausted to go on, they decided to go back inside.
They made themselves comfortable in the living room where they proceeded to watch
television from a giant monitor.

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Mark showed her the portraits of his great and great-grand parents. Mary hadn't seen
them during her last visit. They hung on the walls of one of the ground floor corridors.
That," he said, pointing to the painting on their extreme right, "is my great-grand father
who was a soldier in his early days. When he left the army he started a business of many
stores and shops. He was very old when he died." The man he spoke of had a gruff, stern
but pleasant look about him. He wore an army uniform with several medals pinned to his
chest. A very light smile played at the corners of his lips like he possessed some inner,
special secret no one but him knew. The rest of the portraits of Mark's ancestors bore
people with proud, happy looks that Mary found both admirable and pompous at the
same time. Before they turned away from the paintings, Mary spotted it: the spectacular,
mesmerizing, Chariot of Fire. As the legend promised it was truly food for the eye.
Ten minutes later, Mark had to physically drag Mary away.

It was the early evening and the sun was almost completely behind the horizon. The
entire western sky was deep red. One by one, large and expensive looking cars arrived
and parked in the driveway of the mansion.
"Whats going on?" Mary asked.
"My father is holding a party with his friends here tonight. He just returned from
London."
Marks parents were jovial and good natured people. They had taken a liking to Mary
and knew how close their son was to her.
"This is the Mary that we hear so much about!" Marks father said as he pulled her into a
tight embrace. "Have you two been having fun? Enjoyed the day did you?" His bulging
eyes were almost comical but they displayed a boyish excitement that Mary liked. He
was totally bald and wore golden rings on his ears. He wore an ornate traditional shirt
and a khaki trouser. As it grew darker, the guests increased in number. The splendor was
almost too much to take in. The guests were all seated around many small tables placed
in the middle of the compound. Their drink filled glasses and cutlery laid on the tables
glinted as they reflected the light cast from the overhung large electric bulbs.
Mary and Mark moved back and forth around the lawn, drinking in the sights and
sounds. Occasionally, some of the guests would catch sight of Mary and take in her
appearance with a look of confusion. Mary was not ignorant about the snobbish nature
of most privileged people.
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After returning to the house for a hearty meal of their own,(Mary's stomach was
beginning to ache from all the food it wasn't used to), Mark and she moved to the side of
the entire gathering. Most of the guests had their backs to them. Mary watched them
intently as they chatted away, their faces being her area of interest. They seemed to
reflect a life of no stress or grievances. These guests and Mary came from two different
worlds. Mary always contemplated how near yet far those worlds were.
Mark's father had stood up. He was making a speech. He held a long thin glass of wine
in his hand, his belly much larger than it was when Mary had last seen him. As he
talked, the audience nodded, murmured and clapped.
Her thoughts drifted for a while but a sudden hush from the crowd pulled her back to the
present. Everyones attention seemed to be focused on the small platform up front.
A group of no less than twenty children were walking up onto the platform. They were
all dressed uniformly in nicely colored robe-like dressings. Like properly rehearsed
soldiers they stood in a two-line formation facing the crowd. The taller ones stood
behind the shorter ones. Mary decided that they were entertainers of some sort.
A lady stepped up onto the platform and stood a few steps in front of the children. In her
hand she bore a thick black microphone. The lady looked familiar and Mary frowned in
an effort to recall where she'd seen her before. It didn't take long for her to realize that
they were the same group of children she'd seen on her birthday trip to the lake.
Her suspicions of them being entertainment were confirmed when the lady with a
microphone conducted them into song. Everyone, including Mary and Mark were
impressed by the quality of the voices they heard. Everyone seemed to let the beautiful
tunes wash over them. For Mary, the song did more than entertain her. It brought with it
a mixture of confusing and unwelcome feelings. She remembered that for some strange
reason, the sight of the children had created a queasy feeling in her. The feeling had
returned. Only this time it was intensified by the high and low notes of the beautiful
song.
"Whats the matter?" Mark asked. He was worried seeing her look so disturbed. Mary
was startled.
"What do you mean?"
"You have a funny look on your face."
Mary said nothing. She found that she had nothing to say. The song went on. Every cord
was beautiful and terrible simultaneously. Mary couldn't decide whether she wanted the

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song to go on forever or stop altogether. Then it was over. The audience was giving a
loud applause, the children choir marched off as uniformly as they had come.
"Look!" Mark said suddenly. He was pointing almost directly above them at the inky
black, star filled sky.
"Where?" Mary asked.
"There. That star!" he replied. Mary looked closer.
"You mean the moving one?"
"Yes. Its called a shooting star. Make a wish."
Mary looked confused.
"If you see a shooting star you make a wish, it comes true."
Mary considered this for a moment then burst out laughing.
"Who told you such a silly thing?"
"Don't laugh. Its true."
"I don't believe in such things," Mary said.
"Just make a wish."
The star was now almost fading from sight having made its great ark across the sky.
Mary watched it for a while then feeling completely ridiculous, closed her eyes.
Whether she was making a wish, praying or doing something else Mark had no idea.
The height of the visit came at the end. Mark surprised her by handing her the circular
bowl with its goldfish.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"It is yours now."
Mary didn't want to take the pet away from Mark but she couldn't deny that inwardly she
had wished it was hers ever since shed first set her eyes on it. Mark promised to see her
soon. Phiona came to pick Mary up.
"Mother look at what Mark gave me!" the bowl wobbled a bit because of her weak wrist.
"The fish you told me about? Its nice."

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Marks father offered to drive them home but Phiona declined. With the glass orb placed
on her lap and securely held down by her hands, Mary sat between the motorcycle driver
and Phiona and they sped off into the night. The ride home was immensely chilly
making Mary hungrily anticipate the warmth of their home bed.
Most of the town's shops were closed and only a handful of cars drove past them every
now and then. Their headlights seemed to wink at Mary as they flew by.

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CHAPTER NINE

They stood in front of the old basement door. Phiona was looking through the contents
of her bag for the keys. She seemed to be doing so with no luck.
"Must have lost them," she kept mumbling to herself. Finally frustrated, she went up to
the other side of the house and called out to the housekeeper that had so often assisted
them. She inquired if there was a spare key to the basement.
"Yes," was the reply, "let me get them." After a few minutes of searching;
"Ah....I am sorry," the old man said apologetically, "they must be inside the main
house."
Phiona then asked if the house occupants were inside.
"No. They have gone out for the night."
There was nothing to do but wait for the family to return. They grimly sat side by side
on an overturned crate beside the basement door. The night seemed to become colder
with every passing minute. As usual, Mary's sweater wasn't thick enough to keep out the
cold even though this hardly bothered her today as her mind was still bubbling with
thoughts of the days events.
"Tell me about your day Mary," Phiona said. She knew it would take her daughters mind
off the cold.
Mary went into a detailed description of what happened when she was at Marks place.
Her words made the waiting seem shorter. On and on she talked into the night. She still
couldn't believe that the goldfish was now hers and kept sneaking glances at it. After a
hour or so, she snuggled closer to Phiona (the glass globe was placed carefully at the
side). She felt the bulge of Phionas stomach. It grew with each day.
"I can hear it," Mary said, pressing her ear to her mothers stomach.

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"It keeps on kicking....like now." She pulled Phiona's hand down to the belly so she too
could feel the tiny kicks. The loud growl of an engine brought their small ordeal to an
end. The house owners had returned. As soon as they entered the room, Phiona wasted
no time in lighting a fire and heating some of the left over meal. Mary stomach was still
full of the food she'd eaten at Marks place and was too exhausted any way. Phiona ate
alone. They had their night time story propped up in bed. Mary fell asleep halfway
through the tale.
Her wrist was almost completely healed. Mary selected a fresh paper from her notebook
and began a colorful depiction of the goldfish. It wasn't the only drawing she'd begun.
Upon finding a very large paper, old but otherwise still good expect for some dust that
she simply brushed off, she had decided to commence on her biggest drawing yet. She
thrust the entire capability of her artistic nature into it. It would be a surprise to Phiona
who wouldn't be allowed to see it until it was complete.
Phiona had made a small addition to the room by placing potted flowers on the window
ledge. The plants were already steadily growing, their stems bent like crooked fingers as
they steered the leaves and petals towards the sunlight. Once or twice Mary went out to
the mansion garden and (with permission) swapped some small garden flowers for the
ones on the window.
Mary began to develop a fear of impending ill news. Every time she heard someone
come up to the door, even if it was only the housekeeper or gardener, her stomach
cringed involuntarily in anticipation of something bad.
For that reason when she saw her mother nervously scuffling through a bundle of old,
dog eared documents that she Phiona carried everywhere, she instinctively knew
something was wrong.
She knew better than to bombard Phiona with questions when the latter was in an
agitated mood.
"Whats wrong?" Phiona asked when she noticed her daughters worried look but she
knew that Mary had come to expect some misfortune to cross their path every now and
then. Mary could only remember seeing her mother look through those documents once
before.
Phiona told her daughter to get back to her work. Mary obeyed and promptly returned to
her chores. Never the less she couldn't help glancing at her increasingly agitated mother
every now and then. Phiona seemed to be looking for something she wanted badly, yet
couldn't find. She scuffled through a small pile of papers over and over. Frustrated, she
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forcefully stuffed the papers back into her bag and her hand moved to her forehead
which she began to rub.
She left the room-the house-without a word. Mary went on to work mechanically until
she was done. When Phiona returned in the evening, Mary hoped that whatever had been
troubling her mother was over although she doubted it. At around eight o'clock, when
the darkness had fully descended, Phiona ordered Mary to turn off the lights. Mary did
so without question. They sat. It was as dark as it was silent. Mary occasionally shifted
about nervously but other than that, remained still.
A loud knock on the door caused her to jump. She felt Phiona's hand firmly grip her own
then withdraw. Mary took that as a message to keep silent and remain in her position.
The knocking continued. It reminded Mary of their former landlord and an all too
common feeling of ill-fortune swept over her. After some minutes the knocking stopped.
Phiona waited a full thirty minutes before allowing the lights back on.

*
Two days later, in the light grey of the early morning, there was another knock on the
door. Phiona silently instructed her daughter to ignore it as well. The knocking
continued for fifteen minutes before stopping. It was a week later that Mary finally came
to know who Phiona was evading. The unexpected guest swung the door open in one
fluid motion. Mary was quick to remember that she had seen him once before. The man
walked slowly into the room, taking in the surroundings with undisguised distaste.
He wore a white shirt, black stripped tie and black trousers. Neatly trimmed hair covered
his head and he wore thick, black rimmed glasses. In his hand was a leather briefcase.
Mary had seen him only once before. Even then, he'd exhibited a menacing attitude. He
was tall, thin and had an authoritative look about him.
The tax man exhibited all traits of a bureaucratic law man. His pin stripped suit, the glib,
eloquent talk and the robot-like movements. He pulled a few papers out of his briefcase
and glared at Phiona before surveying the documents with narrowed eyes through the
thick lenses of his glasses. He cleared his throat as if about to make a speech.
"Phiona you know why I am here. You have evaded me for long. I will not waste time
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"Mister, Phiona broke in. I have told you before. I am facing some financial problems
and-"
"Do you know that what you are doing is against the law? I could easily report to the
police or my superiors that you are avoiding paying tax." Phiona slumped in her seat.
The man went on.
"You seem not to appreciate the extent to which I have helped you. I keep giving you
more time even if it is against the rules. Do you want to go to jail?"
Mary remained silent. It seemed that she was thinking hard or otherwise had nothing to
say.
"You told me earlier that you had lost some documents yes?" he asked. Phiona nodded.
They entered a long conversation about legal documents and tax payment that went over
Mary's head. Before he left, he looked sternly at Phiona.
"I have been sympathetic with you in the past, he said. If you keep playing cat and
mouse with me I may turn to harder methods of dealing with this issue." He then looked
over at Mary where she sat. Mary looked back at him for a few seconds before turning
her face away.
The man walked out without saying another word. A heavy silence hung between the
two.
Phiona spent the following two weeks trying to find the important legal papers. Much of
what was going on as concerned the tax payments, Mary didnt understand but she was
certain that attaining those documents were as important to her mother as say, acquiring
money for rent payment. From what she gathered from Phiona's explanations, the
documents were at one of the district government offices, whose occupants were never
available. Phiona spent a great deal of time-time she didn't have-trying to access these
documents.
"Have you gotten them yet?" the government Man demanded one day.
"No."
"Hurry up! I have already given you enough time!"
The bureaucracy surrounding the tax system was incredible. Getting the attention of any
key personnel was like to trying to catch smoke with bare hands.
One windy evening as the family walked home, Mary noticed that Phiona kept pulling
out and scrutinizing a small collection of stapled, typed on, white sheets of paper. The
relaxed face expression on her mothers face told Mary that Phiona had finally gotten
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the documents the tax-man had so vigorously hounded her for. Pulling the papers out of
the bag proved to be a fatal mistake because a sudden surge of wind, stronger than any
on that windy evening, swept the papers clean out of her hands and into the open air.
High above their heads and past the overhanging tree branches the precious papers
floated. They watched in horror for a few minutes before dashing about like mad people
to retrieve the scattered papers. They managed to retrieve all but one. The papers were
now crumpled and torn.
When Phiona presented them to the government agent, he wasnt pleased.
What happened to them? he asked, his voice full of disgust as he scrutinized the
wrinkled papers that had been crudely mended with tape. Phiona remained silent.
The man finally placed them in his briefcase. He stood up to leave, briefcase in his hand
and eyes upon Phiona.
How old is your daughter? he asked.
Twelve, Phiona replied.
Twelve, the Man repeated. What do you think would happen if-God forbid-you went
to jail? You ought to get more serious about how you handle your life. Start behaving
like a mature adult.
Phiona watched as he turned and left the room.

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CHAPTER TEN

Mary's temperature increased at an alarming rate and she began to develop severe
headaches. She couldn't see how she could have gotten ill so quickly. Was it something
she ate? Or perhaps a poisonous insect bite? Whatever the case, she needed immediate
treatment. Within the space of a few hours she'd become too weak to even stand.
Phiona practically dropped her days shoppings when she walked through the door and
found Mary sprawled across the bed, her eyes closed and lying dead still. Something
was clearly wrong.
"Mary, can you hear me?" Phiona asked anxiously as she placed her palm on Mary's
neck to check the temperature. Mary tried to say the word yes but all she could do was
move her lips up and down. Phiona shook the young girl.
"Mary! Can you hear me?!"
Mary managed a weak nod. It was six o'clock in the evening and Phiona immediately
made preparations to take Mary to the hospital. She rummaged around the room looking
for this and that. Mary could hear the distinct clinking of coins as Phiona searched
through the drawer in which she kept her personal things including the wooden box that
had a slit at its top. She then left the room. Mary wondered what she had gone to do.
Twenty minutes later (or two hours) Phiona returned with Allan the house helper at her
side.

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"Are you strong enough to get up Mary?" Phiona asked. Mary tried to get up but stopped
at an awkward sitting position. Her head felt like lead.
"Let us carry her," she heard Phiona say to Allan and a moment later, strong hands
wrapped themselves around her waist and she was lifted up onto someones back. She
slowly wrapped her hands around the person's neck and gratefully rested her head on the
wide, strong shoulders.
They walked into the sunlight. All Mary could see through half-closed eyelids was the
tarmac pavement of the house's driveway. Then a sound that undoubtedly belonged to a
car engine assaulted her ears. They were standing close to the pickup used to transport
food and other domestic supplies from town into the estate. The person carrying her,
gently placed her on a soft leather-like seat and then sat next to her. Her head was
pounding again and a moan escaped her lips.
"Be strong now Mary...we are taking you to the hospital," Phiona's voice whispered. The
car started to move. Mary tried to discern her surroundings. They seemed to be in the
front seat of the vehicle. It's cracked windshield displaying a long stretch of road in front
of them. Trees and a scattering of buildings stood beside the road.
The pounding in her head became louder. She rested her head on Phiona's arm and
drifted off to sleep or sub consciousness.
"Mary. Wake up," someone said. She opened her eyes. They were parked in front of a
large gray and blue building. Phiona helped Mary out. This time, she held Mary steady
by the waist. Together they took slow careful steps towards the ward.
A lot of people were walking around. Nurses, doctors, patients..... . It was the largest
hospital in the district. It had been around for decades, was government owned and fairly
efficient. They sat for almost an hour. Mary felt like they had been there the whole day.
When they finally got access to a doctor, Phiona explained her daughters critical health
condition. The bespectacled doctor performed a few tests on Mary.
"How long did you say it took for her to get sick?"
"She was okay this morning. When I came back home she was like this."
The doctor frowned.
"What did she eat today?" he asked. Phiona swiftly described the food at their place of
residence. The doctor continued to frown in thought then presently called another health
worker and held council. Phiona's anxiety increased with every minute.

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"Your daughter may have been poisoned from something she ate. The illness is acting
very fast. She must receive treatment now."
Phiona tried to keep her nerves steady.
"I will arrange for her to be kept here for the night-" He was interrupted by a nurse who
strode swiftly into the room and muttered words Mary couldn't hear to the doctor. He
excused himself. Somewhere, in the depths of Marys foggy, unfocused thoughts she
wondered how Phiona was going to pay for the treatment. The most obvious answer was
that she would use up all the money she had saved. Mary knew that her mother always
kept some money stashed away in case of emergencies.
The doctor returned. Phiona was horrified to learn that if her daughter didn't receive
immediate treatment, the young girls fate would be unpredictable. As Phiona and the
doctor made discussion for the treatment, they were yet again rudely interrupted. A man
walked into the office in a very obviously shaken and nervous state. In fact, he seemed
quite as desperate as Phiona herself. Known only to the doctor, the man was a wellrespected and fairly wealthy person that used the hospital premises like his own personal
clinic. Incidentally, he had a sick child that needed immediate attendance.
From the get go, Phiona could tell that the two men obviously knew each other. They
hastily greeted each other and the man practically whimpered as he explained his child's
situation. Phiona's head went back and forth between the two men.
After a minute or so the doctor asked Phiona to wait outside. Phiona sensed that she was
being sidelined. Not now! Not when Mary was facing a new and extremely dangerous
condition. She sat on the waiting bench outside with Mary leaning limply on her
shoulder. Time was moving as fast as a snail. Finally the doctor and the plump man
emerged from the office. They began to march away. The doctor seemed to have
forgotten Phiona and Mary.
A mixture of fear and anger made Phiona stand up and ran towards the two men. She
called out the doctors name. It was highly inappropriate but she had completely lost her
nerve. The doctor turned to face her with cold eyes. Gone was the person that had shown
any interest in her case.
"My daughter is-you said-"
"Yes. Yes. I know, the doctor interrupted harshly. Just wait patiently there. I am
coming. Whats the matter with you?"

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Some people had stopped to see what was going on. The doctor quickly moved away.
Phiona's heart sank like a rock at sea. A privileged person had slithered ahead of the
metaphorical social line and snagged the spot for Mary's treatment.
Fear turned into panic and her brain was driven into a frenzy of thoughts to find a
solution. Mary was looking worse than ever. She wasn't able to sit upright on the
wooden bench anymore. If Mary was looking disheveled, it was nothing compared to
how she felt. Her stomach felt like it had been tied in knots. The pounding in her head
had reached an almost unbearable limit. She felt drowsy. She passed out.

The familiar old and cracked ceiling of the basement was the first thing she saw upon
reopening her eyes. Voices nearby talked. One belonged to Phiona, the other, Mary
couldn't recognize. It seemed to be night time.
....do you think its possible she was poisoned? Phionas voice.
Yes, an unfamiliar voice answered. A few seconds of silence passed. How had she got
medication?
"....I will come later to give her more medicine and check to see if she is improving," the
totally unfamiliar voice was saying.
"You have already done enough," Phiona said.
"I was more than willing to help. I owe you a lot."
"All the same thank you."
Silence. Mary felt weak and tired as if she'd been ill for days.
"She is a big girl now-"
"-yes-"
"-but still looks the same. I still remember the day she was born. The owner of the
voice came beside the bed and peered down at Mary. Mary's eyes were slightly open. He
was clearly a middle aged man but his entire head was covered with white hair. He had
intelligent looking eyes and for some reason bore a hint of a smile on his face. He
scanned Marys face apprehensively for a minute or so before turning to leave.
Both Phiona and the nameless doctor made regular checks on Mary. During the night
Phiona slept on a mattress laid on the basement floor while Mary slept in the bed. The
stranger, who Mary came to surmise was Phiona's longtime friend, came with a regular
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supply of medicine which seemed to be doing its work of making Mary stronger. After a
mental inventory of all the things Mary had eaten on the day she fell ill, the doctor
deduced that she was allergic to a certain green vegetable.
When Mary had first asked who the doctor was, Phiona had reacted the same way she
did to all questions about her past: she kept silent. The meals became even thinner.
Phiona's resources and time were being stretched thin. Mary became stronger with every
passing day. While she lay in the bed, she watched the goldfish swirl in its bowl for
hours on the end. The glass cage glistered from reflected light coming through the
window. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the room was the large unfinished
painting. Despite the past, unfortunate snag of the last art job, Edwin made occasional
visits to Phiona and kept positive inquires about Mary's artwork. In fact, he offered
Mary a most pleasurable treat when he offered to take her to visit the town's largest art
shop.
It was a wonderful day for Mary who besides being grateful for any escape from
idleness had never seen so much artwork in one place. The store was large and spacious.
It had oak wood walls and extremely large windows. A light scattering of people were
inside. They lazily inspected the crafts. The paintings were displayed in large frames
that hung side by side on the white washed walls. The paintings ranged from people to
objects. Some were detailed and clear while others, murky and difficult to understand.
Mary could easily relate to the ones with uncomplicated themes.
"With time, you can learn to paint like these artists," Edwin said to Mary.
"Do you see that painting there?"
"That one?" Mary asked.
No. The one on its left.
"I see it."
They moved closer to it. It was a brilliant, lifelike painting of drinking glasses, plates
and vases.
"The artist was once a student of mine. He is now well known and makes better and
better pieces." The man wasn't boasting and he spoke with the pride that only a teacher
can receive from an accomplished student. A few minutes later, he went off to have a
conversation with someone he apparently knew.
"Stay where I can see you," Edwin cautioned.
"Where are you going?"
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"To greet an old friend of mine."

Mary wondered along the large shop by herself. She occasionally sipped from a medium
sized plastic bottle of packed juice that Edwin had bought for her. Presently she came
along a painting that was by far the best she had seen in the entire collection. It was of
what appeared to be a walled garden with a single tree growing beside a clear pool of
water. The pool was at the center of the garden. It was a very peaceful looking scenery
depiction. It was so colorful and intricate in its beauty that Mary was overwhelmed with
wonder at the artists skillful hand. The layers of paint seemed to have a silky coating.
As if to emphasize its beauty the painting was framed in a silver colored plastic frame.
She wasn't the only one drawn to its glamour. A young girl, about her age, dressed in a
pink dress with flower designs on it, approached. She had wide eyes and seemed
inquisitive about everything around her. She stood beside Mary.
"What's your name?" the girl asked.
"Mary."
"Mine is Jane. What are you drinking?"
"It's juice."
"I want some too," the girl eyed the bottle greedily. Janes behavior reminded Mary of
her spoilt cousins, Tom and Angela. A child who was used to getting what she or he
wanted when they wanted it.
"It's almost finished-" Mary began but the bottle was snatched out of her hand.
"Do you like it?" the rude girl called Jane asked, pointing to the painting as she sipped
from the bottle. Mary nodded. She was too surprised at the girls behavior.
"Are you going to buy it?"
Mary shook her head.
"Why? Where are your parents anyway?"
Mary decided to remain silent. Soon, a man that Mary could only assume was the girls
father came and joined them. He was plump and wore a white long sleeved shirt and a
khaki trouser. His protruding belly emphasized his size. Jane who seemed talkative by
nature turned to her father and bombarded him with questions and demands.
"Daddy! Look at that picture!" She pointed excitedly to the painting in front of Mary.
"We have seen enough Jane. It's time to go."
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"No!"
"Don't start that," the man snapped, "mommy is waiting for us back home."
"But I want it!" the girl whined. The man looked exasperated.
"I have already bought you three."
"But-I want this one!" and with this, the girl stamped her foot on the ground and gave
her father's leg a sharp tap with her tiny fist. Her face screwed up and she began the first
cries of what could have possibly turned into a dramatic brawl when her father gave in.
"Okay. Okay but this is the last one," the man said as he signaled one of the shop
attendants over to them. Upon learning the price of the painting, he extracted several
bills from a bundle of folded money fished from his pocket and promptly paid the sales
man. They left. Mary continued her tour.
Edwin appeared out of nowhere. It was time to leave. They traveled in Edwin's creaky,
grey corolla to meet Phiona at a prearranged location. Phiona thanked Edwin for
everything.

*
The idea suddenly came into her head. Perhaps it was the sight of the girl, Jane in the
shop that provoked it but was it the first time she had seen a child with their parent?
Nevertheless, the desire had violently risen from the depths of her heart to the surface.
After a reasonable space of four days she decided to bring up the taboo topic in the
family. She asked about the whereabouts of her father.
"Why are you so inquisitive all of a sudden?" Phiona asked, voicing the very question
Mary had been asking herself over the last few days.
"I have told you time and again not to ask me about him," Phiona was clearly agitated by
her daughters question. She had made it clear that they were never to talk about him.
Mary didn't know how to put her request in words.
"You know where he lives......"
"Do you want to meet him?"
Mary shook her head.
"Then what?"
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"I want to see him. I-," Mary finished lamely and wondered why she had ever brought
up the question.
"Wash your hands. Its time to eat."
At least it was worth a try. How many times had she had such conversations with her
mother? Too many to count. The rest of the evening, Phiona gave Mary a stony silence.
The following day Phiona took Mary along with her. Mary didn't dare hope. It was
almost unbearable to hope for something she wanted so badly when there was the very
real risk that she may not get it.
They journeyed once again on the motorcycles for hire, to the base of another large hill
that dominated half the area. Here, they began to climb the hill on foot. They came to a
fairly large stone wall that surrounded a medium sized house but at this point they could
see nothing but the roof tops. The gate was shut. There was a road that ran behind the
building and off to the higher parts of the hill. If one climbed the road, and stood at a
point amidst the trees that were bunched up beside it, it was possible to see over the wall
and into the homestead. They did so. Phiona was silent for a while before she said,
"This is where your father stays." She didn't bother to elaborate. Mary could do nothing
but stare. Phiona let her daughter take her time in soaking it all in. A young child
discovering an unfamiliar, family related revelation needed a moment to herself. She had
promised herself never to bring Mary here but with time, her daughters pleas had made
her realize the selfish way in which she was handling the whole thing. Her daughter's
request the night before, though a variation of many she'd made in the past, had been the
final straw. The metaphorical wall that she'd built between Mary and her biological
father came down. Saying 'no' again would cause a feeling of guilt to hover over her
conscience like a black cloud for a long time afterwards.
Mary was looking at her fathers place frantically as if she'd have only one chance in her
life to see it. The place had a dj vu feeling about, as if she, Mary had a recollection of
it from memory. It was a silly idea of course as she had only been months old when she
left the place. Another thing that overwhelmed her was the splendor of the place itself. It
seemed unreal that she was connected to someone of substantial wealth...
Something was happening. Someone was walking across the front lawn. A large man in
a brown suit was strolling back and forth. He spoke into a cell phone that was held to his
ear. Mary looked up at her mother and Phiona nodded, answering the unspoken
question. It was him!
For a brief-very brief-instant she considered calling out to him. The desire passed as
quickly as it had come and she contented herself with staring at him. Soon, a calm
spread over her entire body, quenching the fever pitch intensity that her nerves had
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reached. All these years she had wondered and imagined but here he was at last. From
this distance she couldn't see his face clearly although she would have preferred to
imprint it on her mind forever.
The nameless father continued to prance around the compound like a king in his
gardens. How she wanted to somehow get on the other side of the wall and meet him
face to face, to let him know that she was watching him this very minute. That she
existed!
Phiona tugged at her daughters arm. It was time to go. Mary remained still. She wanted
more time! She felt like this was her one and only chance to see her father and wanted
the moment to last forever. Then like a cloud patch covering up a dazzling sun, her
feelings were overshadowed by far less welcome thoughts. They were unpleasant
memories. Endless humiliations and problems she and Phiona had endured. He had
wanted nothing to do with their lives and that neglect had somehow been a cause of their
problems. Phiona sensed a certain anger in Mary and understood it all too well.
"Do not keep any bad feelings towards your father," she said when they arrived back
home that evening, "when I had you the circumstances were hard for us. I had to leave.
The past is behind us. It is best for one to forget.
Mary remained silent.
Come, Phiona said, let me show you something. She went over to the small
cupboard beside the bed, opened the bottom drawer and lifted out the wooden box that
had often mystified Mary. With a small silver colored key, Phiona opened the small
padlock holding the latch in place.
Look, Phiona said. Inside the box was a stuffing of paper money and coins.
This is your future, Phiona explained, every day I save just a little in this box. One
day you will be able to go to school again.
Mary was surprised and not unhappy. Phiona pulled something small out of her purse
and placed it in her daughters hand.
I think its time I gave you this.
It was a photograph of Phionas ex-lover: Marys biological father.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

On the bright and crispy morning of Christmas, they set out for church. Mary was
wearing her one and only outing dress that she kept for occasions like this. Phiona too
was wearing a nice new looking dress. The church they attended was the only one they
ever went to in the entire area. This was owed in large to the fact that Phiona had a good
friend that worked in the church.
The church itself was an impressive stone and brick building that sat on fifty acres of
grass covering the slope of a sparsely populated hill. Mary had always thought it elegant
in its appearance. The designs of its nineteenth century architecture made it look grand
and its isolated position in the middle of land and trees seemed to emphasize its
uniqueness.
Today, shouts of song poured out of its windows and floated through the surrounding
air. The festive season also came with a whirl of decorations and gifts.

Mary and Phiona sat together on one of the many wooden benches. Several times during
the service, Mary saw Phionas head bowed in prayer while everyone else was on their
feet in song. The stress lines that were always on her face seemed a little less. This was
good, Mary decided. Their financial stress on top of Phiona's pregnancy weren't big
enough to infiltrate even their relaxation time. After the service, Phiona went to say a
brief hello to her longtime friend, Evan.
"...Phiona I know that things are not easy for you these days," Evan was saying.
"It is okay. We can manage."
Evan persisted.
"You have always been stubborn Phiona. In all the time I have known you. I insist, I
should help."

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"I thank you for your concern but I tell you we are....." and with these words Phiona
suddenly bent forward as if hurt and her hand moved to her stomach. Her baby had
given a violent jerk.
"Your baby of course," Evan said. She reached forward to help Phiona settle back in her
seat. "How silly of me not to offer you something to drink." She hastily stood up and
went over to her cabinet to pour Phiona a glass of water. Phiona rubbed her stomach
then caressed her head which for some reason had started to pound. Through the small
window in the room she could see Mary seated on the grass alongside some other
children. If only she could give Mary some kind of Christmas present. Evan placed the
drinks on the table. She then brought out some paper money from her bag. Phiona began
to shake her head but Evan beat her to the punch.
"I insist. Consider this your Christmas gift," Evan said and she practically forced the
money into Phiona's reluctant hands. Phiona stared at the bills then at her friend. Evan
had helped her so many times that she always felt guilty whenever she received another
'favor' from her. Evan had a way of presenting her help like a well-deserved gift.
Gifts. She turned the phrase over in her mind. Her eyes drifted back to her daughter
moving about on the field.
Mary happened to notice a long white line that was slowly getting longer across the light
blue sky. In front of it was the tiny yet unmistakable shape of an airplane. She asked
Phiona what the plane was doing but it was Evan that stepped in to explain. In the
simplest terms she could think of, Evan explained to Mary that the plane was doing
something called 'skywriting'.
"Like when someone writes in a book. For it, its pages are the sky," Evan said.
"What is it writing?"
Evan squinted as she looked at the long lines and curves. She couldnt make out the
word.

Phiona tried to keep where they were going a surprise for as long as possible. The store
had a large collection of shoes and clothes.
"New dress or shoes? Choose."
Mary's shoes had long lost shape and had several holes in their soles.
"Shoes," Mary said.
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The shop seemed to be doing a roaring trade. Admittedly it was the Christmas season
but being unable to move a few steps without bumping into someone certainly said a lot.
They surveyed a rack with shoes of all sizes and shapes. It was a rainbow of colors.
Mary was dazzled and thus undecided on what to pick. The overwhelming number for
selection was difficult to process. The shop attendant came to her rescue.
"How about this one?" the attendant asked.
"No."
"This one? It will look good on you."
A shake of the head.
"Look! This is the one!"
A thoughtful pause then, "No."
When she finally selected a red and white pair that she found perfectly fitting, Phiona
paid the cash and they left. They spent the rest of the day sightseeing and window
shopping. Mary could see the Christmas decorations hung in several buildings. Families
poured in and out of the stores, their hands laden with bags and boxes of packed goods.
Phiona bought for Mary a plastic bottle of soda from a supermarket. Mary sipped it
slowly to make it last. Her new shoes felt comfortable and refreshing. She was so
distracted by the sights and sounds of the festive season that she was almost knocked by
a car as she inattentively crossed the road. Phiona was several steps away from her and
already standing on the pavement on the other side of the road.
Mary! she called. Mary froze on the spot in sheer horror as the car screeched to a halt
in front of her. Several onlookers made terrified exclamations having already made the
assumption that the young girl had in fact been harmed. The owner jumped out of the
black sedan and walked over to see that Mary was alright. He wore a black coat, trouser
and hat. A silver-colored watch was strapped to his wrist. His face looked strangely
relaxed as he glanced down at Mary.
Are you okay? he asked. His voice was deep and fluid, like gurgling liquid. Before
Mary could say anything, Phiona was at her side. She quickly led her daughter away
from the middle of the road and curious stares of the surrounding people. Mary glanced
back one more time at the stranger. He was looking at the pair with an expression that
was hard for Mary to comprehend. Something about the man sent a chill down her spine.
The sun went down and the white and blue of the sky was replaced with an inky dark
blue-black. A scattering of stars glittered in the night sky. On a night like this many
years ago, Mary thought, one big star guided three wise men to the spot where a king
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was born. Her thoughts turned out to be an accurate representation of the days program.
Phiona led her over to a large building in front of which a line was gathering. They both
joined the line. Adults and children, presumably in family groups, talked pleasantly
among themselves.
Inside was dark and at first Mary couldn't see anything even directly in front of her.
Phiona held her hand as they jostled their way through the unknown bodies in the dark.
They moved through what appeared to be tiny corridors and finally into a large brightly
light room filled with rows and rows of chairs: a theater. Mary and Phiona got seats near
the very back. The entire theatre was packed. Everywhere Mary could see, people
chatted away and laughed lightheartedly.
Mary had never been to a theater before but this one certainly looked good. The hanging
lights overhead, cast bright white and yellow lights on the stage below. The stage
curtains were a deep rich purple and soft music issued from electronic speakers placed
strategically in the room corners. A man seated next to them handed Mary a plastic
bottle of soda.
"Say thank you Mary," Phiona said. Mary said her thanks. The man smiled and seemed
only too happy to offer something.
"Being entertained without something to chew on is very dull," he said. The play began.
A banner displayed the title;

THE BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST

The first three children actors walked on stage. They were dressed in old robes. One
actor was on all fours acting as the donkey, with a girl, her stomach bulging, seated on
his back. The third child, a boy, was walking by the two.
"How much further?" the girl actor asked.
Not much, the boy replied. Mary watched as husband and wife looked for an inn in
which to produce the child but to no avail. The pregnant woman finally gave birth to her
baby. It was laid in a manger. Other actors dressed in hides acted as the animals in the
stable. Three actors dressed in beautiful multi-colored robes, entered the stable carrying
large, wrapped gifts in their hands. They laid them before the baby. Other actors in white
robes and white feathered wings attached to their backs, stood next to the small
gathering. They sang;
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Good rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,

remember Christ the savior was born upon this day,
to save us all from Satan's power when we have gone astray.
oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,
oh, tidings of comfort and joy.

Phiona was now eight months pregnant. Mary had to do almost all the house work as her
mother needed all the rest she could get. She even accompanied Phiona to work and
assisted in the selling of merchandise. When at home, Mary liked to lay her head against
Phiona's protruding tummy and listen to the kicks of her younger sibling. She felt like
she knew him or her already.
Her painting was almost finished. Her effort and concentration had really paid off. The
depiction was coming out extremely well. She occasionally stopped just to stand back
and admire her progress. She hadn't yet shown her mother the painting.
"What are you drawing this time?" Phiona always asked.
"Its a surprise," Mary would say as she hastily turned the board away from view.
Phiona's pregnancy made a pinch in her ability to earn the money needed for their daily
survival. The house owners were getting tired of her empty promises of future payments.
Mary sensed that they would be moving out of the cave-like room soon. She tried not to
think about where they would go next, even though the thought loomed over her like a
black cloud.
The foreboding feeling of ill fortune was stronger than ever and yet sometimes good
things happen when one least expects it. Phiona found an apartment that they could rent.
It was affordable because the landlord had agreed to space out their rent payment over
an extended period of time.
"We shall leave next week," Phiona announced. In a way, Mary felt sad to be leaving the
basement. Musty and old though it was, it had begun to feel like home. She would also
miss the beautiful gardens and lawns of the house to which the basement belonged.

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Their departure was accelerated unexpectedly when they arrived home late one evening
to find water tricking from under the door and into the open. Through the thin wood they
could hear the gurgling sound associated with gushing water. Phiona looked frustrated.
"The bath tap was left on by mistake," she said, "the whole room must be flooded with
water."
Mary's first thought was the painting. Where had she put it before she left? What about
the goldfish? Was it at this moment swimming in the dark and murky waters? With the
help of the house assistant, they managed to open the door and push it inwards against
the force of the water. It was a disaster.
Almost all of their few belongings were destroyed. The stashed objects from the boxes
were floating pathetically in the ankle deep water. Some of the house habitants came to
witness the damage. They kindly assisted Phiona and Mary in rescuing whatever wasn't
totally destroyed. Mary was relieved that the gold fish and its bowl had survived because
of their strategic position on the window sill beside the potted flowers.
Unfortunately the bottom quarter of the painting was drenched and smudged. The
damage was probably reversible so the painting still had a future. Phiona's documents
and Marys art books were drenched but otherwise unharmed. She spread them out on
the dry ground outside the room. Her valuable necklace was found wedged between a
pile of metal and wood. The wooden box with a slit at its top had survived too. The
music box was damaged beyond repair.
"We shall have to push the water out," the house helper said, "luckily, much of it is
already starting to move out."
A wide stream of water was already flowing out across the pavement and into the
gardens. They used mops. One thrust at a time, they pushed the water out. Mary felt that
her hands were almost frozen cold. She could no longer feel her toes and feet. And thus,
it was with cold feet, arms and a rumbling stomach that Mary settled down for the
nights sleep.
It had taken them a huge part of the night to remove most of the water and the floor was
still wet. They slept at around four oclock in the morning. Mary drifted off almost
immediately, the remembered tune of the music box playing in her mind.

A few days to the New Year and Phiona's baby was almost due. They had parked the
few belongings they owned and were ready to move out of the basement. The home

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owner assisted them with a car for transport to their new home. Mary held the goldfish
bowl in her lap as the car rattled along the bumpy road.

They stood side by side in the darkness. Around them stood a light scattering of people
who were all in that spot for the same reason. Under their feet, the soft grass spread wide
in all directions and sloped downward to an unknown depth: they stood on a hill slope.
From this height, they could see the entire town as a gathering of glittering lights placed
in a dark valley lying in between two walls of equally dark hills. The town lay as it
always did: peaceful in its slumber. Today, it awaited the approach of the New Year.
This was the reason for Mary and Phiona's presence. A few weeks ago, Phiona had
promised to bring Mary to this very spot.
Without warning, a loud bang sound made Mary jump. Even though she'd expected it, it
still startled her. The sound was followed by a ball of bright blue light that shot skyward
until it appeared to be part of the star filled sky overhead. It then exploded into a brilliant
shower of blue sparks and strings of light. Fireworks.
Mary had begged Phiona to take her someplace where she could have a good view of
them as they ushered in the New Year. Another loud bang and a yellow ball of light
followed the same skyward path. A yellow mushroomed-shaped shower of light lit up
the sky..purple, white, blue again, green. This went on for twenty minutes. Mary, who
had read about fireworks in the books at school, thought the display was spectacular.
Phiona made a sudden movement, accompanied with a small 'oh'. Mary turned to see her
mother clutching her stomach and swaying unsteadily on her feet.
"Whats wrong? Is it the baby?" Mary asked anxiously. She gently helped her mother sit
down on the grassy slope. Phiona offered her daughter her usual weak smile that was
meant to reassure.
"The baby gave a sharp kick," she said. The doctor had warned her not to move about a
lot. The two sat in silence as the sky was repeatedly filled with dazzling display of
celebration.

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The housing owner was saying something that was nearly driving Phiona out of her
mind with desperation.
"You assured me that I would have the house!"
"I know, the landlord said apologetically, but I received an offer from a good client of
mine. For now you...."
Phiona wasn't listening. She'd heard enough. She slowly sat down on the house
pavement. Mary hated to see the look of hopelessness in her mothers eyes. The house
owner was looking at Phiona with sympathy.
"I am sorry, he said. The changes were made very suddenly. The new house owners
have already moved in." Sure enough, Mary could hear voices coming from the inside.
Phiona and the house owner had exchanged a long conversation about money from
which Mary gathered they would not be moving into the apartment. Today of all days! It
was the all too frequent ill-timing of an unfortunate circumstance. The baby's impending
birth made it important that they had where to stay.
"My sympathies to your situation but there is nothing I can do," he said.
Then it happened. Phiona began to get contractions: the child was coming. Mary could
see sweat forming on Phionas brow. The sudden realization of what was happening was
putting a serious physiological toll on her. Like any person caught in a seemingly
uncontrollable situation, she started to imagine the worst.
"Mary!" she cried, "what are we going to do? The baby!" The role of adult having been
suddenly thrust upon her, Mary began to soothe Phiona even though she herself was at a
loss of what to do next. The land owner, who up until this moment had been reluctant to
get involved, offered his help.
"Let us lift her up first," he told Mary. They both helped Phiona into a standing position.
Although it seemed like minutes before she produced the child the man was hopeful to
get her to the hospital. He put her left hand over his shoulder and step by step they began
to walk away.
Mary walked behind them, carrying two heavy bags that held their belongings. Being
too difficult for transport, Phiona had sent the gold fish and the painting to Martha's
place for the time being. Mary was too nervous to notice the pain shooting through her
hands caused by the heavy physical burden.
After fifteen minutes of very slow movement they stopped. The mans hopes of taking
Phiona to an adequate place of birth seemed slim judging from the woman's present
condition.
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"Give me a phone!" Phiona panted. The man fulfilled the request by pulling a slim cell
phone from his pocket. With shaking fingers, Phiona dialed a number, spoke into the
phone for a minute then thrust the machine back into the palm of the man's hand. Her
breathing was becoming increasingly laborious.
"Quick! Inside there!" the man told Mary as he pointed to the very last place one would
expect to have a child: a garage. It belonged to a bungalow similar to the one Phiona had
tried to rent just minutes ago. All the houses in the vicinity were of identical design and
size.
They took Phiona inside. Thankfully it was almost entirely empty. The only things in the
room were a few mechanical tools and a wooden cabinet that was connected to the wall.
It was cool and dark. The man gently sat Phiona down in the center of the floor and
immediately, resourcefully, scavenged enough pieces of cloth on which she could lay
comfortably.
He went through the dividing door to explain to the tenants the situation. They were
after all his tenants and could do him this one favor. They even offered a mattress and
some blankets for Phiona to use. By this time Phiona's breathing was rugged and rapid.
Mary thought to do so many things at once, that her head became a mass of confusion.
The white haired doctor, who had earlier saved her from the deadly allergic reaction,
suddenly burst through the door. He had responded to Phiona's call with remarkable
speed. In his hand was his portable medical kit.
"Richard...," Phiona managed to say, "I was worried you would come too late...."
"Just relax," the doctor called Richard said, "it's going to be okay. Mary, unpack those
tools in the bag." The doctor went to work. It was about two oclock in the morning. The
dim light coming from the bulb flickered on and off.
"...push!" Richard was urging. Phiona was letting out moans and grunts that were
becoming increasingly louder. Some of the house inhabitants had come to watch. They
were torn between curiosity and necessity of privacy. It was thus under these
circumstances that the child was born, its birth coming only approximately two hours
after the New Year. The infants cries simultaneous with the nearby shouts of
celebration as if they too were celebrating the new life that had come into the world.
It was a boy. Phiona held the baby in her hands. She looked exhausted but happy for the
miracle that was his life. Mary was itching to get a good look at her brother. The twelve
year old was given the honor of naming the child. She called him Michael.

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Here he was at last. Michael was amidst his family and yet totally unaware. Richard was
beaming emphatically despite his weariness: a proud professional having successfully
completed his work.
"It is time you got yourself some rest young lady," Richard said. Mary lay down to sleep
but not before a prayer had escaped her lips. She thanked God for her brother, Phiona,
the doctor Richard and her life.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Mary woke up amidst a bundle of clothes, coats and old cushions. She vaguely
remembered being tucked in by Richard. Sunlight was streaming through the garage
window. She spied the baby tucked under Phiona's arm and the previous night's
excitement stole over her once more. She had a younger sibling! What would it be like?
Richard came to check on Phiona.
"You have a strong healthy baby," he told her. The house owners weren't anxious to give
Phiona any more space than they already had. Not even when prompted by the land
owner.
"Why dont they have a proper home? What kind of mother is she anyway? She is a
stranger. We have already been kind enough." They were finally convinced to allow
Phiona some time to at least get her strength back. They spent the next few days in the
garage. The house owners decision to leave them there seemed cruel but they-Phiona
and Mary-had nowhere else to stay. Besides, Phiona was the only one who could get
them another place of residence and she was obviously in no condition to do so. Richard
helped them with a small amount of money for their maintenance (Phiona refused to
remove any money from the box). Mary constantly desired to hold the baby. Phiona was
very cautious that nothing happened to the fragile creature. She constantly said things
like:
"Hold it like that, no-not like that, here let me show you...."
Martha paid them a visit to give the baby her blessings. She was appalled that Phiona
hadn't gone to the hospital or at least come to her. Never the less she held and looked at
her nephew to her satisfaction before giving it a gift. She wasn't the only one that
bestowed him with presents. Jackson gave him a tiny silver colored bracelet. Edwin
gave him some money. A tall man came by to bless Michael too. He was a stranger to
Mary. Phiona seemed to know the gentle man quite well and introduced him as a relative
of theirs.
"This is young Mary I understand?" The man addressed the question partly to Phiona,
partly to Mary herself. Mary simply nodded.
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"She has grown to be a shy girl. She was very play full as a young child," the man
boomed. He then proceeded to offer the baby some gifts and his blessing.
"This is the second child you have helped me deliver," Phiona said gratefully to Richard
one day.
"I hope there will be a third and fourth," he replied. When Richard left, Mary asked
Phiona what she meant by him helping her deliver another child.
"Have you not guessed? Phiona asked. He was the doctor attending to your delivery as
a baby."
Every day, Mary delivered both lunch and supper to her mother. It was essential that
Phiona got back on her feet as soon as possible. Their livelihood depended on it. Martha
brought Mary her painting so she could work on it in the meantime. The damage caused
by the water took a surprisingly short time to fix and before long it was once again a
glamorous work in progress.
From time to time, Phiona asked Mary to bring out her necklace for apparently no
reason other than to turn it over between her hands. Over and over she looked at it. Mary
could almost hear Phiona's mind churning as the mental cogs and wheels of her brain
formed a decision.
"Mother, are you going to sell the necklace too?"
Phiona looked sad at the thought.
"We have run out of money. I have no job. There is no other option," she told her
daughter. Mary knew she was right. The idea of selling the necklace dismayed Phiona
much more than it did Mary. It meant parting with a gift given to her by a very close
person. With some guilt, Mary felt relieved that a solution had finally been attained to
their problem. As soon as Phiona was strong enough to get back on her feet they moved
out. Edwin knew someone that could help Phiona find a buyer for the necklace. He was
a popular merchandise dealer specializing in valuable objects like precious stones and
the like. It was said that he sold gold and diamonds to wealthy people and collected huge
payment. If that was true, his appearance didn't reflect that fact. He had a big unshaven
beard that was half-filled with white hairs. He wore a dirty old cap and an oversized
coat. His left eye was opaque white: blind. His working eye glinted mischievously when
it fell upon the necklace.
"Is that the item?" he croaked.
"It is. Are you willing to buy?"
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Without replying he removed it from Phiona's grasp and began to examine it. He let it
slide through his fingers and he rubbed it here and there. He even bent down to sniff it.
How this would help determine its authenticity, Phiona had no idea but she remained
silent. She had been advised not to present herself as an overly verbal person during the
transaction. Up and down, the necklace slithered in the mans hand like a golden river.
The grizzly man kept muttering and chuckling to himself adding to the strange
impression his appearance already presented. Finally he agreed to purchase the item.
The money, which he was going to deliver later, was a hefty sum. Phiona was content
with the amount even though she knew the metal was worth much more.
"It was a valuable piece of metal that necklace," Edwin said, "you said it was a gift?" he
asked. Phiona nodded but didn't elaborate.

They looked for a new home. This time, Richard assisted them. With his help they were
able to locate a small wood and brick apartment in the middle of the main town. It was a
fifty-fifty arrangement, in that another tenant would pay half the rent. It contained three
rooms. The house mate was in his late thirties with no wife or children.
Since Phiona hadn't yet received any money from the dealer, they were still financially
down. She wasted no time in trying to get her old job back but she'd already been
replaced. She went through the tiring routine of getting a fresh way for them to earn
their keep.
Upon the knowledge that they were going to share an apartment-and thus spend a
considerable amount of time-with a stranger, Phiona tried to get acquainted with him but
he was a closed book. He basically kept to himself. He was a large, brooding man that
slouched in and out of the apartment every evening and morning. His back and
shoulders were always slightly hunched and that was perhaps why he kept his head
down so much. He did drink a lot though. One only had to stand close to him to know
this fact.
Mary helped him pick this and that every night when he stumbled into the house drunk
after returning from night bars. He would slump in the living room sofa, sing loudly and
make conversation with himself until he drifted off to sleep. The singing normally took
up a good hour or two of Marys own nights sleep but she'd experienced worse.
Phiona received the first cash installment for the necklace. The money was enough to
cover the rent and rid her of some of her debts. She even bought Mary some new clothes
and shoes. Earlier, Mary had sent a letter to Mark and hadn't heard a word from him
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since. Were he and his family still out of the country? Surely his school term had
commenced already?
The gold fish was now in her possession again. She had chosen a nice thick paper on
which to draw a fitting picture for the animal. When she completed it, she hung it on the
wall. Phiona managed to acquire a job working as a cleaner in a mid-town office. Unlike
her previous job, this one occupied her for only a few hours of the day. With the
increased expense of the baby, this job simply wasn't enough. She scooped another part
time cleaning job at a local primary school: one of the schools at which Edwin taught.
The responsibility of caring for the baby fell on Marys thin shoulders. She spent most
of her waking hours nursing the child. She quickly became an expert at feeding, bathing
and dressing her brother. She even had one-way conversations with it as she went about
her work, quite aware that it couldn't understand a word she said. His small hand groped
for the unknown being that was constantly with him.
Every evening, Phiona would return to momentarily lift the responsibility from her
shoulders. He was like their little prince and they read stories to him. His eyes hadn't
even opened yet! Still, they couldn't get enough of him. He was passed back and forth
like a game.
The continued installments of money from the merchandise dealer were enough to cater
for the baby's needs and flourish them with a steady two meals per day for a while. Their
house-mate barely said a word about the child but every now and then, he gave Michael
sidelong glances as if he couldn't care one way or another about the childs existence.

The evening hours that Mary spent alone became increasingly longer as Phiona's jobs
became more demanding. This meant that Mary was spending more and more time alone
in the house with a stranger. Tom (their house mate) often invited his friends over. They
were a melodious and loud bunch. They were also heavy drinkers and had a merry time
every night they ganged up together. Their laughter would fill up the small house. Their
neighbors, whose house was only several feet away, had a love for merrymaking too.
Sometimes, especially on weekend nights, music blared from speakers placed
somewhere behind the walls for hours on end. On such occasions, Mary would finally
drift off to sleep just as dawn was approaching.
One night, one of Toms friends walked into the house in a drunken stupor at a moment
when it was only her and Michael inside. Mary always tried to avoid Toms friends
whenever they were drunk. The ease with which she could do this varied from night to
night. Mary made the mistake of jerking her head around to the sound of a whistle
coming from the man's lips.
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"You! Yes you! Come here!" he barked. Her legs seemed to be moving towards him on
their own accord. She also realized that she was trembling slightly. The man was seated
in a peculiar fashion.
"Whats your name?" he asked.
Mary mumbled something.
"Don't be scared. Speak up! I am not going to eat you."
"Mary," she said. She spoke but still couldn't bring herself to look directly at him.
"Thats a pretty name. Now..." He held her wrist and pulled her closer to himself. The
alcohol stench was almost overpowering especially to her young inexperienced lungs.
"A pretty name for a pretty girl," the man cooed. His strong fingers were already
beginning to rub her arm. Without thinking, Mary wrenched her hand from his grip and
made for the bedroom, entered and slammed the door behind her. With trembling fingers
she twisted the key in the lock and then sat in the corner of the room. She was still
trembling and had no idea why she had chosen to sit in the corner when the center of the
bed or the chair would have done. The man was banging on the door.
"Open up! he yelled. What do you mean by running from me like that? Come out!"
Mary wrapped her hands around her knees and continued to sit. With each bang on the
door Mary, thought it would break open. The man seemed stronger than an ox. Tom who
had gone out to buy more packed wine from a nearby shop found his friend banging on
the door and calling out to Mary. He immediately rebuked the man for doing so.
Stop that my friend, Tom cautioned. Do you want the people I live with to come to
fear me? Let us go back....."
It was twenty minutes before Mary realized that all Tom's friends including Tom himself
had left. After a while, her trembling subsided. A few minutes later, it had completely
disappeared. Michael slept peacefully in a bundle of blankets on the bed. The moon was
full and Mary could see it through a slit in the window curtains. It stared back at her
with its beautiful white face. Indifferent to all that went on among the earthlings to
whom it supplied nighttime light.
Mary continued to sit in the corner. This time it was thought rather than fear that held
her in that position. A minute or hour later, a tapping on the bedroom door brought Mary
back to her senses. She opened the door for Phiona who as usual looked exhausted. It
didn't take more than a few minutes for Phiona to tell that her daughter was shook up.
She practically had to force the evenings events out of Mary. From that time on, Mary
and Michael went along with her for evening work.
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I am taking you to the home tomorrow, Phiona announced. Mary turned her head
away. It was a reflex action to the anger she felt.
Mary, look at me! Phiona said snapped. Phiona immediately checked herself. She
decided that anger wasn't going to help the situation get better.
We talked about it a few days ago don't you remember? Phiona gently probed.
Mary didn't answer. She did remember. Phiona had said that at one point she would take
Mary to the home-The orphanage-for a while. Only for a very short while. One month at
the most. Mary understood that Phiona had a very good friend at the home and that the
conditions there would be significantly better than her present ones but she still allowed
the anger to fill her up. She had hoped it would never come to this. Not even for a few
weeks.
Don't be like that. Mary! Phiona almost shouted. Her daughter was determinedly
facing away from her. Frustrated, Phiona walked away. Did Mary not understand the
kind of pressure she was under? Or how hard it was to make tough decisions time after
time for their survival? Mary was quiet for the entire evening. She was pointedly giving
her mother a cold shoulder.
Phiona made no attempt to smooth out the tension. She knew the kind of withdraw her
daughter was going through. To try and comfort Mary would be hypocritical. It was best
her daughter came to terms with the situation on her own.

They walked half the way to the home. It was a plain, grey, two storied building nested
between two other very similar structures. It was an old, midtown building built decades
before. It horribly reminded Mary of those old buildings in story books that housed a
crowd of homeless children. Its old, musty exterior gave it the appearance of an
abandoned building. A set of old stairs led up to its front door.
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They walked up to it and Phiona knocked. Mary was still refusing to talk and so they
stood in silence. On the way there, Phiona had tried without success to engage her
daughter in conversation. Mary-like her mother-could be incredibly stubborn when she
intended. From where she stood, Mary could hear the shouts of playing children. Her
small bag strapped to her shoulder seemed to get heavier with every passing minute. The
door opened.
The lady standing in the door way was extremely short. She was wider than she was tall.
Donned over her attire was a white apron that was smeared with marks and colors. Her
hair was bunched up and tied in a hair net. Her face was round and full. From the
passionate greetings that the two women exchanged, Mary guessed that the lady was
Phiona's contact in the home. Her name was Janet. Mary and Phiona entered the house.
How are you young girl? Janet asked. Mary barely managed a reply. Janet continued
to smile. Phiona and Janet spoke for a while. Mary was barely listening to what they
were saying. She looked around. The place was designed as an ordinary domestic house.
The walls had pictures and curved decorations. The old looking carpet had plant and
flower designs all over it, same as the comfortable chairs in which she and Phiona sat.
Some of the children who were walking about occasionally stopped to look at the new
girl. It was time for Phiona to leave.
Mary..., Phiona said with her arms spread out for a hug. Mary hesitated for a few
seconds before fiercely hugging Phiona.
Don't worry. It's just a short while, she said finally. She left. Janet took Mary upstairs
into the bedroom. They were about ten beds in it. There was no one else in the room.
This is the girls room. You can place your bag in that cupboard there. Here let me help
you..... It felt like the first day at a new school. Janet quickly explained some of the
several rules and house procedures.
It was time for supper. All the children, including Mary sat at the big table with Janet
seated at the end. All the children were silent and kept glancing at the new person in
their midst.
This is Mary, Janet said. She will be staying with us for a few days. This
introduction was met with silence.
Tom. Lead us in the grace, Janet said. They prayed. A meal was served. Mary forgot
all about her nervousness as soon as the meal was put in front of her. She munched it
down while thinking of nothing in particular. When they were all done, one of the
children began to clear the plates. Janet spoke to a tall girl standing next to her.
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Claire. Show Mary upstairs. The girl called Claire took Mary to the bathrooms up
stairs. Most of the girls were already lined up in front of it. Mary was made to skip the
queue and enter first. The room had one metallic tub with faded silver colored taps. A
sink and mirror were attached to the wall opposite the tub. Mary undressed for her bath.
The water was cold. Almost ice-like. Mary enjoyed it.
After the bath she went to the girls room. It was empty again. All the other children
were doing house chores. That night they gathered in the living room to watch a film on
an old television set.
Do you watch television often? Claire asked.
No.
Do you have television at home?
No.
It was an engaging film, although Mary kept glancing at her new surroundings as well as
outside the window at the night. What was Phiona doing right now? By now they would
be having their traditional nighttime story. She felt guilty about having been so angry at
Phiona. She very well knew that her mother's financial state was a critical one and that
every decision made was a tough one.
That night, she dreamt that she was standing on a large plain of grass. It was early
evening and the sky was a rich mixture of gold and red. She was alone as far as she
could tell. Wait! There was something. Several feet ahead of her was an object she
couldnt quite make out. She suddenly became aware of a rainbow-like ray of light that
came down to the point where the object was. She walked towards it until she was
standing right next to it. It was a raised stone pool. Swimming inside was a gold fish.
Her gold fish!
As in many dreams, some profound knowledge came to her. She knew that the gold fish
was the reason for the pool, the rainbow, even the grass and sky and that its presence
here had a deep significant meaning. What was it? Oh if only someone could tell her!
And she was troubled because she didn't know the meaning.
A bell woke them up. Mary who was used to waking up on her own time, found it
disorienting. The place didn't live up to her fears. For weeks she basically lived
comfortably. It wasn't good living but it was an upgrade from the life she'd been living.
She and Claire became good friends.
Three weeks from the day she arrived, she was paid a visit by Phiona.
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You see. I told you things would be okay. In a few weeks we shall move into a new
place, Phiona assured her.
Where is my goldfish?
Still with Aunt Martha. Where I left it.

One day, one of the girls came up to Mary. Marys body immediately tensed up. Ever
since her arrival she'd always sensed a kind of animosity from the girl. Mary would
catch the girl openly glaring at her every now and then, looking like an eagle with her
head bent forward slightly, her eyes narrowed and her long braided hair falling behind
her head. Mary always shrugged off the looks, all the while wondering what she could
have possibly done to anger someone she had never known, never spoken to.
After the stares came the 'accidents'. The girl would just happen to walk into Mary when
the latter happened to be carrying something breakable and of value. At such times,
Janet would get furious at Mary's supposed carelessness.
The girl was the least social of all the children in the orphanage. The two hadn't had any
verbal exchange yet. Mary looked back at the girl in apprehension. Mary reflected-as
she'd often done-that the girl looked familiar somehow. The girl answered Mary's
thought.
I remember you, she said in a flat, robotic monotone, you attended HillSide Primary
school. Isn't it?
Yes.
I was a student there as well. You had a friend. A boy. You and him were very close,
the girl said. Mary waited for the girl to get to the point. She still didn't like the girls
tone and the way her eyes remained narrowed.
What was his name?
Mary contemplated asking 'why do you need to know?' but decided against it.
Mark Tugume, Mary answered.
The girl nodded slowly and seemed to turn the name over in her head as if committing it
to memory.
His father is a very rich man. Is he not? It was a rhetorical question.
You know him? Mary asked.
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Of course I do. Let me tell you a story about him. His father owns several companies as
you well know. Sometimes, these companies remove or destroy homes when taking
away everything from a piece of land they want to use for their business purposes. My
familys house was destroyed. My brother was seriously injured by one of the machines
that did it. His hand and leg were broken.
The girl went on to tell a grim tale about how much her brother suffered because of his
handicap. Mary found the story disturbing. She later found out how much the girl's
family had suffered because of what Marks father had done. How much did she really
know about Marks family anyway? She had heard Mark mention once or twice about
his father being involved in court cases having been accused of an illegal activity of
some sort. Was Mr. Tugume a ruthless business giant that let nothing get in his way? Or
was he an honest hard worker and a target for malicious mudslingers?
Twice, Phiona came to check up on Mary. She always wore her usual worn-out and tired
look. Other than that, she and Michael were doing fine. Mary missed her baby brother.
At the end of the two months stay, Phiona arrived at the orphanage but not to take Mary
back with her. Mary was told that she would have to remain at the home for another
month.

They whispered to each other in the dark.

What is on your mind? Claire asked.
Nothing, Mary replied, I just cant sleep.
Me too. I feel excited. I dont know why. A few minutes of silence passed between the
two.
What do you mean you feel excited? Mary asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
I dont know. I just do, Claire replied in a much lower voice. Mary sensed something
was on her friends mind and that she didnt feel like sharing just yet. Mary stared out
into the darkness.
Everyone else in the room was asleep. It was close to midnight but the two girls didnt
feel even remotely tired. Mary could see a slice of moonlight spilling through the edges
of the drawn window curtains. The darkness of the room was soothing. Mary
remembered something.
What was Mama Janet telling you today? she asked. Earlier that day, Janet had
interrupted a board game between the two girls to have a private word with Claire. Mary
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was thankful for the break in the game as Claire was an excellent chess player and
outmaneuvering her was proving to be a mind racking task. Claire had been gone for
almost thirty minutes.
She was telling me about the trip, Claire said.
What trip?
Every year we take a trip, Claire explained, its exciting. We go to different places
and try new things. Claire told Mary all about the past trips the children had taken over
the years. They sounded exciting indeed.
An hour later, the girls were still talking. They constantly had to check their voice
volume so as not to wake the others.
It started to drizzle. It quickly turned from a drizzle into a steady downpour. Mary
yawned.
Goodnight Mary.
Goodnight Claire.
They slept.

Mary found herself looking forward to the trip that was scheduled to take place the
following week. Claires enthusiasm had been infectious. Janet allowed Mary a phone
call. Mary told Phiona all about the trip and Phiona wished her daughter the best time.
On the day of their departure, Mary and Claire made sure that they sat next each other
on the bus. The bus was big enough to hold all fifty children. Everyone was talking
excitedly and Tina (one of two the caretakers who were in charge of the trip) had to tell
everyone to calm down over and over. She had a sharp voice that seemed designed to
give commands. She was a tall, dark skinned woman born of the northern tribes of the
country. She held up her hands for silence before leading them all in a prayer. The driver
was then signaled to start driving.
The bus moved at a steady pace through the town. The children seated near the windows
waved excitedly at the pedestrians below. They rarely got an opportunity to go outside
the home and as a result, couldnt contain their enthusiasm for everything. Claire was
seated at the window and she too had her face glued to the glass.

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Their first stop came a mere hour into the journey when they stopped at a zoo on the
outskirts of the town. Tina led them out and divided them into two groups. They began
the tour.
The zoo was one of the largest in the country. That morning, the place was filled with
tourists, families and lone individuals. Mary and Claires group went to see the big cats
first. Mary had only ever seen lions and tigers in films. A large male lion majestically
walked around in its huge cage. The cage was big enough to accommodate a layout of
rocks and a small pond.
It looks so strong, Claire commented. I once saw a program on TV about animals. A
lion killed its cub with a single swipe of its paw.
It killed its own cub? Mary asked.
Claire nodded. At one point the lion looked directly at Mary. Even though Mary knew
she was safe on the other side of the cage bars, she felt a tingle of fear. The beast seemed
to be actually considering her. Mary thought about life in the remote savannahs where
animals feasted on each other in order to survive. Was life among the civilized humans
any different? Were the congested buildings and streets anything more than predator
filled jungles?
Mary Claire was tugging at her arm. The group was moving on. They saw tigers,
and leopards. Next, on the tour were the reptiles. Lizards and other cold blooded
creatures crawled over wood and rock inside the glass cages. The group quickly moved
on to the birds. The array of multicolored exotic birds was dazzling.
We have over one hundred different bird species in this zoo the tour guide was
saying. Mary spotted a beautiful grey and black parrot and with a pang, remembered
Angel.
After a while, Mary realized she had to use the bathroom. The lavatories were located
amidst a complex of corridors. It took just over a minute to relieve herself and as she
made her way back to the group, she spotted a golden-colored plaque on the far end of
one of the corridor walls. She moved closer to make out the words engraved on it.
The construction of this facility was made possible by the
generous donations from the ALLAN KATHY ESTATE.
Above the plaque was a photograph of two familiar individuals: the parents of her best
friend Mark.
*
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Claire was asleep. Her body was leaning against Mary who was flipping through a book
she had brought along. Almost everyone seemed in a drowsy mood. It was a few
minutes past two oclock in the evening and the bus glided smoothly upon the tarmac
road that zigzagged through the rugged landscape. An hour ago, the bus had stopped at a
restaurant from which Tina had bought some packed lunch: several dozen sandwiches,
salad and packed juice.
Mary put the book down in frustration. The story plot was far less interesting than shed
hoped. She rested her head against the seat cushion and tilted her face to the right, so she
could stare out the window. She looked out at the never ending expanse of green hills
and occasional scattering of trees. They were now a few miles outside the district. From
what Mary had been told, the journey would take them all the way to the nearest district
(Mbarara) but no further than that. Mary estimated that the entire trip would take a little
more than a week.
She fell asleep.

That night, they stopped at a small town a few miles from Mbarara. Tina arranged for
them to occupy several rooms at a cheap motel. After a quick supper the children
climbed into bed. Exhausted but eager for the rest of the trip and whatever it had in
store.
Early the next morning, they set off again. Within a few hours they reached Mbarara. It
was one of the fastest growing districts in the country. Large shopping malls and
numerous ten-story residential apartments were springing up everywhere. The town
center was bustling with people scurrying to work. The children were beside themselves
with excitement. Vendors waved fruits, snacks and other domestic products outside the
bus windows. The children possessed no money of their own so they couldnt buy any of
the goods being thrust in front of them.
The day was a rollercoaster of activities. They visited the beach, an amusement park, a
cinema and relaxed in the park. By the end of the day they were completely spent. This
time, Tina arranged for them to stay at two decent motels. The group of fifty was split
into two. Each group supervised by a caretaker.
Claire and Mary shared a room.
What do you think of the film? Claire asked. The lights were out. Mary was too tired
to discuss the medical drama they had seen hours earlier.
It was okay, Mary said.
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Claire was silent for a while.

Did you see what happened to that woman?
The one who was mad? Mary asked.
Yes.
She was very lucky. The doctor fixed her brain., Mary said.
Yes, Claire said, she was fortunate. Mary yawned and turned over. She was asleep
in minutes. Claire remained awake an hour after that. She lay staring at the ceiling, deep
in thought.
In the middle of the night Mary felt someone tugging at her.
Mary! Wake up! Claire said.
What.?
Everyone is awake. Quick! Put on your gown.let us see what this is all about.
The hastily put on their nightgowns and made their way outside. All the children, plus a
few guests were gathered outside. They stood on a large pavement surrounded on two
sides by the numerous motel rooms. Everyone had created a loose semicircle. In the
center of the circle stood Tina, the motel manager, a security guard and a young child.
The young child was Chris: one of the children from the home. The security guard had
his hand on Chriss shoulder: holding him in place.
..leave the child alone, Tina was saying.
Leave him?! Do you not understand the situation?! the manager shouted. The manger
was a fat, bespectacled lady. Her face was contorted in suppressed rage.
I do understand the situation
This child of yours is a thief!
.but the child. You are hurting him! Tinas sharp voice rose. The manager turned to
the security guard and nodded. The guard released the pressure on Chriss shoulder.
I still think I should call the police, the manager huffed. Tina fell silent. Chris looked
like he was on the verge of tears. The manager pulled out her cell phone and held it in
her hand. She seemed to be toying with the idea of calling the authorities. Tina spoke,
What happened exactly?
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I told you, the manager spat, the guard found him inside one of the hotel rooms. He
used a wire, this wire,-she held up a piece of metal that looked like three or four wires
twisted together into one crooked instrument-, to pick the lock.
Tina was looking at Chris. The young boys eyes seemed unable to meet her own. The
guard stepped in,
I think we should call the police right now. We can-
No, the Manager said. She was looking at Chris. The guard looked shocked.
Maam, we found the child-
Tim, please.
The guard fell silent. The obese lady was still looking at Chris. She turned the cell phone
over and over in her palm.
I have known Janet for years, she muttered more to herself than anyone, I will
forgive the child.just this once.
Tina remained silent.
Dont come back to this motel again, the manager said. She left. Everyone moved
back to their respective rooms.
Despite that unfortunate incident, the rest of week went on smoothly. Sometimes, in the
middle of the fun and adventure Mary thought of Phiona and Michael and how badly she
missed them. She also occasionally pulled out her fathers photograph and stared at it.
Sometimes she would fall asleep at night clutching it in her hand.

The bus was now a mile or so out of Mbarara town. The driver maintained a steady
speed of sixty kilometers per hour. They had begun the return journey. It had been a fun
filled week but it was over.
The driver was taking a different, shorter route back to Kabale. The return trip was-of
course-less exciting. They made fewer stops and focused on getting to their destination
as quickly as possible. A couple of times, they slept in the bus. The most memorable of
these nights was when they stopped at a wide, flat protrusion on a hillside. This flat,
grass covered expanse beside the road was perfect ground of a long stop. When darkness
fell, they lit a fire. The wood was collected by the children. They searched the nearby
small forests for large, fallen branches and sticks. Tina lit the fire.
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Everyone gathered around to warm themselves. They exchanged stories and sang songs.
Claire was the only one who remained in the bus. She seemed ill. Mary joined her.
Whats wrong? she asked her friend. Claire remained silent. Mary sighed and sat
down next to Claire. They remained in their respective positions for over an hour, their
heads turned to the window through which the fire could be seen. Mary pulled a small
blanket out of her bag and the two snuggled under it. After a while Claire spoke,
Do you remember that mad woman we saw in the film.
Mary couldnt believe it. This was over the fifth time Claire was bringing up the topic of
the film. What was the reason behind her obsession with the mad woman character?
..the way she sat there, Claire was saying, helpless and confused.
What is it with you and that film? Mary asked. Claire hesitated for a moment before
answering,
I have never told anyone this but my mothershes in the hospital. She is sick just
like the mad woman.
Mary was stunned.
She spends all her time in bed, Claire continued, her mind cant work properly. She
cant utter real words, understand what anyone says or move. She cant even recognize
me.
Mary didnt know what to think.
I am sorry
Its okay, Claire said. Silence. Mary had never asked Claire about her life before the
orphanage. Marys curiosity was roused.
Is your father.
He is dead, Claire said simply. Mary found that she had nothing to say.
When I was young, Claire started, my father got an illness. He was a rich man. He
owned many things: hotels, factories, shopping malls and the like. When his illness got
serious, his brother-my uncle-took over the business empire. A few months later, my
father died.
My mother changed. She lost her temper at every small thing. She started to take drugs.
I became very worried when she seemed to be slowly losing her mind. She would forget
simple things and make ridiculous mistakes. One morning, we found her lying in her
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bed, unable to respond properly. She seemed to be having difficulty with movement. She
tried to speak but the words came out as slobbering animal sounds. She was taken to the
hospital..and has been there ever since. Silence.
What about your Uncle?
He sold all the businesses, took the money and left the country.
They continued to watch the dancing flames of the fire. Each lost in their own thoughts.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Dan asked Janet if she and the children could come up with a play.
How soon do you need it? Janet asked him. The two friends were seated in Dans
office. It was a neat and organized room. Certificates and photographs hung on the
cream-colored walls, two metallic file cabinets stood against the wall to the right and a
plain brown carpet covered the floor. All the paper work on the desk was arranged in
neat small piles.
Organization was something of an obsession with Dan. He had an almost uncontrollable
desire to keep things in perfect order. His family had long considered his obsession an
actual disorder. To Dan, he was perfectly normal. Why wasnt everyone as meticulous
as him? Wasnt the world meant to be in perfect symmetry?
In three weeks time, Dan replied, it will take place at the Art & Culture Festival
held at the Sun Light hotel. His eyes were grey. A genetic trait inherited from his
father. The dimples on his cheeks were from his mothers side.
I dont know, Janet said, to organize a good play.and on such short notice. In the
past, Dan had asked Janet for similar favors. Dan was a man with a passion for the arts.
He owned two theaters, a picture studio and several music studios. He and Janet
sometimes arranged for the children of the Home to perform songs or a play at any of
the many art events Dan organized.
I know this is sudden, Dan explained, organization of the event has been hectic. The
group supposed to do the play pulled out at the last minute. We-I-could really appreciate
it if the children could fill in for them.
Janet thought about it for a minute. She didnt like springing things on the children. On
the other hand, Dan was a good friend and over the years, they had often helped each
other out.
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Ill think about it, she said at last.

I would appreciate that Janet, Dan replied.
*
When Janet made the announcement to the children she was surprised at the number of
people that volunteered. She immediately put Tina in charge of the project.
We have only three weeks, she told her employee.
I understand, Tina said.
Okay. Keep me updated with your progress.

Tina wasted no time in selecting a play for the children to perform. Shed recently
finished a novel about a proud apprentice that turned against his mentor. It was a rather
interesting story that she couldnt get out of her head. It was perfect timing.
She scrambled to write a play version of the book, a play that the children could read
and easily grasp. With the help of a friend that worked in a nearby school, she was done
in a week.
Each of you should have one of these, Tina said. She handed out photocopies of the
play to the actors. Mary and Claire had both signed up to act in the play.
Read them carefully. Tomorrow we shall pick roles.
Mary and Claire, as well as the rest of the actors spent every free moment memorizing
the lines.
Solomon was given the role of the Master Elder:(the mentor) a super natural being,
highly gifted and head of a Council of Elders: guardians of a fictional Universe. Chris
took the role of the Star Elder:(the apprentice) another super natural being who was
chosen (but later disowned) by the Master Elder to learn the secrets of the Mysteries
of the Council. Mary, Claire and the rest were each given the roles of the ordinary
Elders of the Council.
Tina drove them hard. They held practice every day except for Sundays.
Claire! You are saying it wrong. Start again..
Tim! When you speak that line, turn your head like this.
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Mary are you paying attention? You seem a hundred miles away. Mary? Tinas sharp
voice cut through Marys daydream. She was suddenly aware that everyone was staring
at her.
Are you okay? Tina asked.
II., Mary stammered.
Let us start again, Tina said.
It went on for days. They encountered numerous obstacles. Lights going off in the
middle of their nighttime practice, mistakes in the typed scripts, physically damaged
scripts, destroyed acting clothes.the list went on.
Towards the end of the third week, Tina told Janet the bitter truth.
We shall not be able to make it. Half the actors still cant-
Dont worry. Ive heard some good news. The date of the event has been postponed,
Janet said.
How much time do we have?
Roughly two weeks.
Tina soldiered on. She had many responsibilities around the home but she devoted a
large portion of her time to getting the play closer and closer to perfection.
Mary found that she was good at memorizing the lines but had a problem bringing them
out with the right feeling. Claire struggled to remember the lines but was excellent at
presenting them dramatically and with the right emotion. The two helped each other
overcome their respective weaknesses.
As they approached the deadline, Tina became confident that they would make it. Two
days to the event, the actors were able to recite the entire play without a single mishap. It
was superb.
Good job everyone, Tina told the group of actors. We can rest today and tomorrow.
The children clapped and cheered.
Tina felt both excited and satisfied that shed successfully completed the task. It always
brought her immense satisfaction to contribute to the Orphanage. She was Janets most
loyal and devoted employee. Tina had worked at the Home for over ten years now. Ten
years ago, Janet had practically saved her life. During those days, Tina was a penniless
drug addict.
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It felt like a life time ago.

Mary made another call to her Phiona. She excitedly told her mother all about the play.
Phiona was equally excited and happy for her daughter but unfortunately couldnt attend
the festival. It was a blow to Mary. She badly wanted Phiona to see her act.
They travelled to the hotel in a van. Mary felt a torrent of nervous excitement inside her.
Relax, she told herself. She knew that the one way to overcome nervousness or fright
was to focus her thoughts on something else. Focus on what? The play? Yes. The
importance of the play. It was meant not only to entertain but to also send a message.
Pride. The apprentice was consumed with pride: a pride that sprung from the delusion
that his excessive talent made him better than the Master Elder. What else? she thought.
Rebellion. Pride caused conflict which later led to rebellion. Some of the Elders of the
Council were convinced to join the Star Elder. The rebellion failed. As Mary
continued to focus on the message of the play, she forgot all about her stage fright.
A loud groan form the engine brought the chattering passengers to silence.
Whats wrong? Mary heard one of the children ask. The driver was saying something
to Tina. Mary saw the caretaker nervously check her watch. The driver got out and
walked to the front of the van. He lifted up the bonnet and began to inspect the engine.
About fifteen minutes past without anyone saying anything.
Tina got out of the car. She approached the driver at the hood.
Whats the problem? she asked.
Its the engine. It may be a serious problem He saw the look on her face. I may not
be able to fix it in time.
Tina nodded.
The children were scheduled to open the event with the play. In about thirty minutes the
festival would start. Tina made a quick decision.
Everybody, get out, she ordered. The children scrambled out of the van.
We have to get to the hotel in time, she told the small gathering, it is not far. If we
start walking now, we may get there in time.
The children readily agreed. In fact, they looked downright excited. With Tina in the
lead, the group set off. They each had backpacks.
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Everywhere they went, people turned their heads to look at the strange group that
seemed to be in a serious hurry.
Tina glanced at her watch every now and then. The children took long, quick strides but
what they really wanted to do was run. Minute by agonizing minute, they strode through
the streets. By the time they arrived at the hotel, they were all hot and sweaty. At the
gate, Tina flashed her identity card and they were let in.
The Sun Light hotel was a white, ten story building. Its walls gleamed like marble in the
evening light. The group walked past the fountain stationed in the front garden. There
was no time to admire anything. They walked into the hotel lobby.
A man dressed in a black suit walked up to Tina.
Good evening Tina, the man said swiftly. I was getting worried that something had
happened. Quick. Come this way.
The man led them through the vast interior of the beautiful hotel and into a changing
room next to the conference room itself. One by one, they jumped into the shower and
scrubbed the sweat from their bodies.

Inside the conference room, the celebrations were already underway. Many famous
musicians and actors sat among the throng of people that filled the room. A choir up on
the platform sang a melodious traditional song. Behind them was a large screen that
filled the entire wall across which a variety of colors swarm. The cutlery on the tables
glinted and sparkled with reflected light from the powerful overhead bulbs.
It was going to be a colorful ceremony. Art exhibitions, speeches and musical
performances would follow the play.
There was a hush in the crowd. Across the screen, huge words announced the coming
play:

A GOLDEN CROWN.

The actors walked onto the stage. They were all dressed in white robes and had golden
bands wrapped around their heads. A few wooden throne seats were placed in the
middle of the circle.
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The lead actor walked onto stage and the play began. Tina was backstage biting her
nails. She prayed to God that nothing would go wrong. Sure enough the play progressed
smoothly. The actors delivered their performances like professionals.
been hearing about the Star, an Elder that was really Mary was saying.
What have you heard my sister? another Elder asked. The Elder that was Mary looked
uncomfortable.
The Star no longer seeks the council of the Master Elder, Mary said, in fact hehe
plans to take the place of the Master himself!
The other Elder nodded.
It is true and greatly disturbing no doubt. If I may ask, what have you to say about the
whole matter?
Mary was silent for a moment. Her robe seemed to glow with some mysterious inner
light.
It has long been the code of the Elders that we should pledge our eternal loyalty to the
Master. Why should the Star turn and seek to rebel against the code? Mary shook her
head. What to think? I have always believed-and still believe-there is none that could
match the wisdom of the Master and yet I admit the persuasions of the Star are
convincing. My inner convictions are at conflict.
The other Elder looked angry that this response.
My brother, the wisdom of the Star is great. I believe he has the power to unveil the
Mysteries to us.
Mary looked at her fellow Elder in alarm.
You have made you decision then? she asked. The other Elder seemed to hesitate.
Yes, the Elder said, and I advise that you lean towards my opinion-
No, Mary interrupted the Elder. She remained silent.
What!? the other Elder asked sharply. What have you to say?
The code says that only from the Master shall we seek knowledge and understanding of
the Mysteries and no one else.
That is what the code says but what do you say?
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I am not to live by what I think or say but by what the code says. The code is in perfect
unity with the Mysteries and protected by the Master.
Towards the end of the play, during a scene in which Mary wasnt required to say
anything, she looked into the audience and felt her body freeze.
The face! Her father, the man whose photograph she had studied thoroughly. She knew
every feature of that face. He was several tables away from the stage. He was staring
right at her! Did he know? For one insane moment, she considered walking off the stage
and calling out to him but instinctive reason held her in place.
She tried to concentrate on the play but as if by some irresistible magnetic pull, her head
turned back to the sea of faces. He was still looking at her. Mary looked directly into his
eyes and in that moment she knew that he knew.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The newspaper lay folded on top of the dining room table. It was a Sunday afternoon
and everyone was either relaxing or involved in some other recreational activity. Mary
picked up the paper. She had long taught herself to read the papers and magazines
mainly to improve her English. She lazily flipped through the pages, scanning the
caption titles and the photos beneath some of them. A particular title caught her
attention:

WINNER OF THE COLOR AND SHADES ARTISTS CONTEST

ANNOUNCED.

She recognized the contest name almost immediately. It was something she had tried to
keep out of her mind with almost complete success. Beneath the title was the picture of a
child Mary knew quite well. He was holding a trophy-like award and grinning broadly
into the camera. The boy was called Timothy and was Mary's former class mate. He had
been an active participant in the art class (just like Mary) and often came second to her
in class projects. Mary often topped her class.
She let her mind wheel back to that sunny afternoon during an art lesson. The teacher
had moved out of the class for a few minutes. Most of the children were laughing and
chatting even though they hadn't completed even half the work. Mary was scribbling
away at her drawings. The subject was a rabbit sculpture placed on the teachers desk in
front of the class. The teacher suddenly walked back in. In her hand was a piece of
paper. The class fidgeted in their seats.
"How far with the work?" she asked. Everyone was too busy picking up where they left
off to answer her. She walked around looking at each one's progress. She then walked
back to the front of the class and clapped her hands once.

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"Everyone stop drawing for a minute. I have something to announce," she began.
"There is a contest called 'Color and Shades' being held for young students such as
yourselves. It is between two schools. Your class has been chosen to participate. Each of
you will draw something of your choice and submit it before the end of the month. The
winner will later be announced and awarded a prize."
There wasn't a very enthusiastic response to this announcement. Mary was squirming
with excitement but she was almost the only one. Timothy and about two other students
seemed happy with the news as well.
"Anyone who wants to enter the contest sign your name here," the teacher said as she
produced a plain sheet of paper from the desk drawer. Timothy stood up without
hesitation, walked over to the desk and scribbled his name. Mary was next. The pen was
a few inches from the paper when the classroom door swung open and one of the school
junior staff members walked in. He whispered in the teachers ear.
"Mary. You are wanted in the headmasters office," the teacher said with a jerk of her
head. Mary quickly wrote her name down on the paper before following the staff
messenger out.
The two walked in silence along the compound path that ran past several classrooms and
directly to the headmasters office. Under ordinary circumstances, she'd have been tense
prior to being called to the headmasters office but for some reason, her head bubbled
with thoughts about the impending art competition.
They reached the office. It was a fairly large brick building with red painted iron sheets
and newly polished wooden doors. Unlike the other buildings in the school, it was well
maintained. Mary let herself in. The secretary looked up as the door swung shut behind
Mary.
"You are Mary Asimwe?" the lady asked.
"Yes."
"Enter. He is waiting for you."
The head master was studying reports. His glasses perched at the end of his nose. He
looked up at Mary.
"Good afternoon Mary." He had a deep rich voice.
"Good afternoon sir."
"Have a seat."

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She sat. He continued to look at his documents. He had a considerable amount of white
hair on his head. His desk was well organized. It had a reading lamp, tin with pens and
markers in it, and a propped up framed picture of his family. Behind him, hanging on the
wall, was a large clock, certificates and photographs. At last he cleared his throat and
removed his glasses.
"Mary, I am sorry to tell you this....," he began slowly as he placed his glasses on the
desk. Mary had already guessed that this was about the school fees.
"......you have been suspended indefinitely, the man was saying. We have been patient
enough with you for over three school terms. Your fees debt is very big.....take this
letter." He handed Mary an envelope. Mary fought to keep her emotions in check. She
dare not break down in front of the administrator seated across from her. Hadnt she
prepared herself for this day? She would not be betrayed by tears or any other sign of
weakness. Never the less she was shocked by the torrent of emotions she was feeling
about something she had known was going to happen for a long time.
Mary? the Headmaster probed.
Yes-sir? Mary brought her mental focus back to the school head. She realized she had
been staring blankly into space.
"You may go," the Headmaster said. She walked out of the office feeling like something
very heavy was weighing down on her chest. She slowly walked through the school for
the last time. On her way past the art class she could see the students preparing for the
competition.

When Phiona arrived at the Home, she told Mary that this time she was there to take her
home. Mary packed her clothes and said her goodbyes.
At that moment she realized how close she and Claire had become and knew that she
would miss her friend immensely.
She and Phiona moved into another small apartment. It was very much like their old
apartment. It contained a single bedroom, living room and bathroom. Mary wasted no
time in telling Phiona all about her time at the orphanage. When she got to the part of
how she spotted her father in the crowd, Phiona listened to her daughter in silence. Mary
waited for her to say something but her mother simply stared blankly. After a few
minutes of awkward silence Phiona said,
Thats good Mary. She turned away and went about her business.

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The painting was done. Phiona finally got a look at it and she was truly stunned. In the
past she'd often praised her daughters artwork for Mary was indeed skilled but this was
far better than anything she had ever done. More so it was better than anything she could
have believed possible of her child.
The portrait showed Phiona herself seated with arms folded across her lap and wearing a
white gown with gold linings at its edges. She appeared to be sitting in a large room with
wood paneled walls. Mary had a unique way of playing with light that gave her pictures
a lifelike appearance. Mary had even added the extra detail of Phiona's old necklace,
glinting on her neck and flowing down to her chest.
"I have drawn the necklace see? You still have it. You have it forever!" Mary exclaimed.
Phiona laughed. She knew how most artists liked to think that their work made them
'immortal' because it lived on after them. Edwin was equally astounded by the work. He
even suggested that it be sold.
"A work like this good could fetch a large sum," he said in a matter-of-fact way. He was
in no way greedy. Mary was hesitant to the idea. She had come to love the painting very
much. Her original plan was to jealously guard it. It would belong to only her and
Phiona.
"It was a mere suggestion," Edwin said when he noticed her slight dismay, "something
to think about."

Mark paid them an unexpected visit. To Mary's dismay, he'd come to say goodbye.
"But where are you going?" she asked.
"To a boarding school outside Uganda," he replied. They were both seated in the chairs
of the tiny living room. Every now and then, phases of awkward silence slipped in
through the cracks of their conversation. Mary felt ambushed by his sudden appearance
and Mark himself seemed distracted.
"Did you get my letter?" she asked looking up from her twiddling fingers.
"Yes," Mark said in a low voice.

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"How come you did not write back? We always write back to each other."
Mark remained silent. Then as if against his will, the words were thrust from his mouth:
" My parents told me not to." Mary was surprised. Marks parents had always treated her
well and seemed friendly.
"But why?" she couldn't help asking.
"I don't know," Mark replied. His voice sounded strangled. It was a lie. A valuable stone
had gone missing in Marks home and the house helper swore she had seen Mary eyeing
it greedily. Outside, the sound of disputing neighbors raged on into a shouting match.
The two children sat in silence once more.
"I shall come back, he promised. Every end of school term." He was going to a
boarding school in London. Earlier, Mary had seen a sleek black car parked outside. A
man, presumably the driver, dressed in a plain white shirt and trouser stood guard beside
it.
"Take good care of the goldfish."
"I will," Mary said.
"We shall see each other again. Soon."
It was time for him to leave. He was still wearing the bracelet identical to the one on her
wrist.
After long and persuasive arguments Edwin was able to convince both Mary and Phiona
that the painting should be put on the market. Mary gave in but did so with a heavy
heart. Day after day, Edwin would return with reports about reactions that the painting
received from potential customers. They were all good. No one had decided to buy it
yet. Mary put the painting out of her mind.
Michael became her source of entertainment. Mary used all her wits to get the child to
laugh. She created small, funny looking toys and waved them in his face. She made
weird faces and sounds till her cheeks were sore. Michael would widen his eyes and
twist his mouth into many shapes. Mary hoped that was his way of expressing his
amusement.
The wooden box was steadily growing heavier. Whenever she got the chance, Mary
pulled it out from the back of the cupboard drawer in which it was kept and felt its
promising weight in her hands. A surge of pleasure usually flowed through her
whenever she did this. She would shake it vigorously and listen to the coins rattling
inside. The sound was like music.

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Phiona was beginning to suspect that her daughter had already surmised the truth about
her illegitimate birth. Having already actually seen her biological father and the obvious
fact that he had another wife and children, it didn't take a lot of imagination to guess that
the man had had an affair outside his marriage: one of Phiona's biggest life mistakes.
One of the acts she was least proud of and did a lot to try and forget. She had been
working in the household of Amos (Mary's father) mainly as a cook. She was young,
uneducated and naive. Amos was persuasive, wealthy and imposing. She gave in to his
seduction and the result was the unwanted pregnancy that was Mary. Amos immediately
paid her to move away and keep quiet about the whole thing. He couldnt afford to have
his reputation tarnished. Phiona had agreed to the arrangement but like most sensitive
secrets it eventually brought its ugly head into the open. Fortunately for Amos, most of
the public and his friends and family never got wind of the nasty details of the scandal,
although they did suspect a thing or two here and there: nothing uncommon.
Phiona's family on the other hand, were horrified by her acts and being a deeply
conservative family, the scandal caused a huge wound inside their relationship. An
emotional wall was constructed between Phiona and a large part of her family. Mary had
always greatly admired her mother's Christian and moral values. This knowledge would
definitely shock the girl but Phiona decided to tell her anyway. It was important that her
daughter saw her in this light: a human with flaws.

Edwin had a hard time hiding his excitement when he came to tell the two that he had
finally found a customer for the painting.
"I am meeting him today," he told Phiona, "perhaps I should take Mary along if it is
okay. You see, it may be her last time to see the painting."
Phiona agreed. Mary had seen been to the art shop in which her work hung and was
eager to revisit the place. It would be an interesting moment to see her work actually
being bought.
There it was! Hung in the same spot as when Edwin had first delivered it. At the time,
the shop owner had been unenthusiastic about actually selling the piece. Few people in
the district had money to spare on art and many a time he was forced to sell at
discounted prices. Still, Edwin must have found a worthy customer otherwise he
wouldn't be this excited.
Sure enough, the customer turned out to be a wealthy person. He looked fairly old with a
scattering of a few grey hairs in the very thin layer of dark hair that rested on his head.
His round eyes had a boyish, playful look about them despite his age. Even in the

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afternoon heat, he wore a jacket and a brilliant red tie firmly tucked against his shirt
collar. He looked at the painting and rubbed his hands. A grin spread across his face.
"The painting is still mine I hope?" he addressed Edwin, "no customer is going to wiggle
it away by offering higher prices."
Edwin assured Martin (for that was the man's name) that that was not the case.
"I had it booked sir," the attendant added, "as you requested."
"Good. Now for the money......," Martin said as he reached into his pocket and withdrew
a wallet that looked in danger of busting from within. He began to leaf through the
notes.
"How much is it worth?" the customer asked both the attendant and Edwin. The
attendant was eyeing the notes greedily.
"Before we go into that," Edwin said, "I brought along the artist as I said I would." He
did an open-palm gesture in Mary's direction. The customer must have thought Mary
was simply a child belonging to Edwin or the attendant but certainly not the artist of a
painting he greatly admired.
He seemed totally taken back by the fact that it was the work of a young child. He didn't
bother to hide his astonishment. Mary took a small step forward.
"Martin," the man introduced himself, "it is an honor to meet you, young lady," he said
as he shook her small hand in his rather large one.
"Your work is the best I have ever seen."
"Thank you.....sir," Mary replied.
Martin laughed.
"No need to call me sir, Martin said. This is a fine piece of art for which I am willing
to pay a great deal of money. Name your price."
Surprisingly, Mary hadn't thought of the payment until that moment and now that she
was asked the question, she thought it odd that she had not bothered to estimate a value
for the painting. Never the less she felt tongue tied and nervous because of the monetary
issues for which she had no answer. Edwin stepped in.
"The price we discussed last time is negotiable," he said.
"You are modest," the customer said, "yesterday, I told you I could offer a blank check.
Any amount you wished." Edwin named a price. Martin paid well above it.

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He started to peel off notes from his wallet. He kept going until Edwin and Mary were
numb with shock. When he was done, they had to stuff the notes into a medium sized
manila envelope. Mary almost burst out laughing at the unreal and ridiculous sate of the
situation. Edwin though excited, quickly shoved the manila envelope out of sight into
his bag.
Then the painting was being lifted from its stand, loaded into the customers car and
finally being driven off. One last cheery wave at all of them and Martin was gone.
Mary felt like running. She felt like jumping, shouting and laughing all at the same time.
She couldn't wait to get home and tell Phiona the news. What good fortune! What a
relief! Edwin counted the money which turned out to be a couple million. Phiona
returned from work that day to find Mary and the teacher seated in the living room
chairs, grinning from ear to ear. Mary held baby Michael.
"What a day!" Phiona huffed and sank into one of the chairs, "endless filth and mess to
clean up. It was as is someone was intentionally......," Mary and Edwin started to giggle.
Phiona looked at them in confusion and this turned their giggles into small laughs.
"Tell her Mary," Edwin said. Mary recounted the days events. Phiona was instilled with
new energy. She was happy mainly because her daughter had gotten some form of
reward for her work. It made her happy to see Mary happy. Edwin honorably insisted
that he get a small commission on the money. The attempts by Phiona to give him more
were futile. After Edwin left, the two were in a state of confusion. The unexpected
blessing was overwhelming. Mary started jabbering away suggestions as to what they
should buy:
"A good meal!"
"New clothes."
"New shoes."
"New toys for Michael." The list was endless.
As with anyone who receives something of huge value-especially monetary value-they
became restless and uneasy. Indeed Mary failed to sleep that night. Looking back later,
they would recognize the type of 'worry' money brought to the heart. They felt it but
couldn't consciously acknowledge it at that time. For a long time, they had harbored
worries about not having money, never once considering that money itself came with a
different but equally laborious burden to the heart.
Everything else seemed less important in comparison to the money. Was it safe? What if
it was stolen? Where should they keep it? Passed desires and dreams slowly crept into

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their hearts. Long gone expectations and aspirations now seemed possible. The greedy
thoughts followed swiftly after the ambitious ones.
What would it be like to have much more? Wouldnt it be nice if they owned numerous
and expensive things? They were rightfully happy about their turn in fortune but the
greedy thoughts that wealth so often evoked were not to be ignored.
The following day, Phiona was on her way to the bank where the money was to be kept.
It had been Edwin's initial suggestion that they do so.
"I do not trust the banks," Phiona said, expressing her doubts.
"The money will be safe," Edwin assured her. He knew about the fears that most
conservative people in the area had for the banking system.
"I will help you open an account and familiarize you with the banking procedures," he
said. He went out of his way to accompany her to the bank and help her fill out several
forms that were a necessary part of the standard banking protocol. When it came to
actually depositing the money in the account, they hit a glitch. The bank teller had
placed a sample of the notes in a slot of a black, plastic, box-shaped machine. She
seemed unsure about the authenticity of the cash. The machine beeped and the teller
looked at Phiona and Edwin in alarm, her eyes extra magnified behind her glass lenses.
Her lips pursed, she ran the money through the machine again. It was a confirmatory act
before the declaration.
"These notes are fake," she announced. She was clutching them in her long nail polished
fingers, a cat holding onto its prey. Phiona found that no immediate verbal reply was
available in her mind. She took a while to process the information. Edwin too bore a
look of total disbelief.
"The machine doesn't lie," the teller said. Slowly, Edwin handed her more notes from
the sum that they were going to deposit.
"Check these as well," he said. The teller inserted the money in the black box and
repeated the authentication cycle. Before she even spoke, some terrible premonition told
Phiona the disastrous news she was about to hear.
"I am sorry sir. These notes are counterfeit as well. Where did you get the money from?"
the teller asked. Phiona looked at Edwin. They had both been taken in. The buyer of the
painting was either a conman, thief or had simply wanted to get rid of fake money that
he had the misfortune of possessing. Regardless, the money they had now was useless
and would accomplish nothing except bring them under scrutiny from the law. The teller
led them into a small unmarked office.

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"Show me the rest of the cash," the bank employee commanded. A few minutes later
they confirmed that all the money given to them by the portrait buyer was counterfeit.
Every shilling of the entire sum was confiscated but they were allowed to go free. On
the way back, Edwin kept apologizing. He needn't have.
"It's not your fault. Do you not understand?" Phiona asked him, "we were all taken in."
Aside from that statement, she remained silent for the rest of the way home. The strange
thing about it all was that she didn't feel angry, upset or any other emotion one would
expect to experience after being taken for a fool or tricked into giving away a valuable
object for bogus cash. She felt surprisingly calm and more importantly, her thoughts
dwelled on her daughter. Like any other parent she wanted the world for her child and
hated to see Mary face disappointment after disappointment. She, Phiona was a
hardened adult that could withstand harsh and sudden circumstance changes but Mary
was only a child. She is too young for this, Phiona thought.
The news was hard for Mary to absorb but once the initial shock was over, like Phiona,
she didn't feel as bad as she would have expected if someone had told her days ago that
she would be cheated out of a prized possession. The money loss was indeed unfortunate
but the only real loss she felt was that of her painting. It reminded her of the time Edwin
had proposed that they sell the painting.
The family of two sat in solemn silence for a few minutes. After a while, the whole thing
began to seem funny. Phiona caught Mary stifling a giggle and let out a soft one herself.
Before long, the two were laughing insanely. Anyone watching would have proposed a
mental checkup for both of them. For some reason or the other, the whole thing seemed
incredibly ridiculous.
"What silly dreams we had Mary," Phiona said. And that was that. The loss of the
painting was an unfortunate event that didn't need any more verbal clarification. The
sooner they put it out of their minds, the better. The con-man incident did nothing to
deter Marys enthusiasm. She immediately picked up her paintbrush and began a new
master piece. She had no way of knowing that in the coming months, this one was going
to end up in a competition and later receive a level of recognition she had never even
dared to dream of.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mary decided to let the fish free. She dropped it neatly into a shallow stream that flowed
through the area (the district had a few discrete streams and rivers). It swam away.
The baby was a bundle of joyous energy now. Mary would take it for walks outside the
house. She was careful not to go too far. Michaels eyes wandered from one object to
another: the vegetation, the buildings. Mary supposed that he was fascinated by the
structures of the new world in which he had been brought forth.

*
The sound was so loud, that Mary was brought to consciousness almost instantly. Phiona
was already up. Apparently the sound had woke her up too. Their bedroom window was
smashed open. Shreds of glass and wood lay scattered on the floor. A gentle nighttime
breeze blew inside the room. Outside, a dark form could be seen rapidly moving away
from the shattered window. Stealthily and with a speed that completely surprised Mary,
Phiona sprang out of the bed, wrapped her lower body in a knee length cloth and dashed
out the door. Mary was hot on her heels. Moving through the night time, Phiona started
to scream 'thief!' as the dark figure speedily disappeared into the darkness. It was an
incredibly fast creature that seemed born for flight.
"Thief! Thief!" The shouts attracted a few neighbors who had already been stirred by the
sounds of the breaking window. A couple of men took less than a minute to understand
the situation and wasted no time in pursuing the thief. By this time, Phiona had stopped
screaming. She simply stood in one spot wriggling her hands and making tiny
unintelligible sounds.
It was as if an unseen force suddenly thrust its self onto Mary and geared her into action.
She shot out into the darkness like a cannon, her skinny legs carrying her as fast as they
could. Phiona was completely taken by surprise and began to call after her.

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"Mary! Come back! Come back this minute! Someone stop the girl!" Mary only realized
what she was doing when already several yards away but put no thought to stopping.
She had joined in the purist of the thief.
The men were now quite ahead and howling threats at the distant figure that continued
to speed away. The thief had been seen holding a medium sized, black object in his (or
her) hand. He looked no more than eighteen years of age and stole glances back at his
pursuers every now and then. With every step the group of men took, with every shout
and call they uttered, they attracted more people to join them. Something about the
apprehension of a culprit (most probably a thief) intrigued the society members enough
to join.
Mary had once heard that given an immensely powerful incentive, one could accomplish
physical feats beyond his or her normal capabilities. Surely that was the case right now?
What else could explain how she, a twelve year old girl was able to keep up with adults
over twice her age who were in good physical condition and running with all their
might? How long they ran she had no idea. It could have been five minutes or an hour.
All she knew was that when they all finally came to a halt, the chase had yielded
nothing. The thief had managed to elude a small crowd of close to twenty people. Mary
was bent over, breathing heavily as she massaged a stitch in her side. In her head,
Phiona's voice continued to scream,
Thief! Thief!
What had he taken? What was inside their house that was valuable anyway? Slowly the
group began to walk home. One of the men walked guardedly beside Mary.
The lights in most of the neighboring homes were on. People were standing in small
groups talking excitedly among themselves. Their hands wrapped around their upper
bodies.
Phiona was still standing where Mary had left her. She darted forward as soon as Mary
came into sight, firmly held her hand and marched her inside. Their neighbors were
sympathetic.
"What did they take anyway?" one of them asked out of curiosity. Mary knew the
answer before it was uttered. It had occurred to her when she remembered that there was
only one belonging of theirs that had considerable value. The drawer that kept the
wooden box was thrust out from the entire cupboard having been violently ripped from
its hinges. The thief had ran away with Marys future dreams. Dreams that would have
been fulfilled by the contents of a special wooden box which until thirty minutes ago
had been inside the drawer.

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The picture seemed to spring out at her. How could she not recognize the necklace? The
inscription Wings like an Eagle was laid close to the camera and the markings at the
side confirmed to Mary that she was indeed seeing Phionas necklace.....or one made
identical to it. Her surprise was such that she simply stared at the newspaper picture for
a full five minutes before reading the article;

FAMOUS NECKLACE DISCOVERED

....popular necklace that has been lost to the murky years of history has finally resurfaced. The famed jewelry is noted not so much for its monetary worth as its original
owner. Experts have confirmed that it is indeed the necklace owned by the great
inventor, Nicholas Batuma.
Inscribed with the phrase Wings like an Eagle and some strange symbols that have
fascinated historians and hundreds of Nicholas devoted followers, the necklace gained
a great part of its popularity because of the inventors personal preference to it among
all his numerous possessions.
Indeed, he carried it with him wherever he went and made strange remarks about it that
often led people to wonder if the necklace had more to it than was visibly apparent.
Many have long concluded that there is nothing special about this piece of jewelry aside
from the fact that it is made of fine gold. Never the less, up until a few days ago when it
was discovered to be in the possession of a wealthy widow, it was the only treasure of
the Great Nicholas Batuma that held a great fascination among the public. It had been
lost for over seventy years since the inventors death.

Mary showed her mother the article. Phiona decided to tell her daughter about how she
came to be in possession of the necklace. Her memory of that day was clear.
It was just after she had produced Mary. Her stepmother had decided to banish her from
the home. Phionas pregnancy scandal was a good excuse her stepmother had been
looking for to cast Phiona out of the home and family in general. Phionas father was

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frail and could be easily overridden. None of Phionas relatives stood up for her during
that sensitive time.
Phionas father called her into his room before she left. Her father had been ill for years
and hardly ever left the room. He was propped up in bed.
Come closer, he croaked, quick...before she comes back. Peters pro-longed illness
had robbed him of his good looks. His dark brown eyes still shone with the life of a
younger man but his skin looked crispy and filled with lines of age. Phiona always
fantasized an unrealistic scenario in which she led Peter out into the sunlight and
watched his face skin smoothen and return to a younger state.
This is the most I can give you for now, he said as he handed her a wad of cash. I
will send you some more later, after you have settled in your new home. They had
agreed to the small meeting the day before. This was the day of her departure and a knot
in her throat made it difficult to speak.
Dont look so sad Phiona, its going to be okay, Peter said, looking at his daughterlooking through her. They sat in silence for what felt like hours.
Have this, Peter said as his hand slipped under his bed pillow and came out with a
shining metal string. Phiona received the necklace.
Papa, its beautiful! Phiona exclaimed.
Its yours, Peter smiled, it was given to me years ago by my father.
Was it given to him as well? Phiona asked.
It was. It has been passed down from father to child for years.
Phiona looked at it. It bore an inscription and some markings.
I wondered when to pass it on but recent events have made me believe its
time.....Peter slumped back onto his pillow. He seemed drained. It was first passed
down from a man named Timothy, a friend of the great inventor Nicholas Batuma.
Nicholas had given it to Timothy as some sort of present. Peter stopped and took a
breath. Phiona waited.
My father told me the original meaning of the strange symbols on the necklace was
muddled, Peter said. No one really knows except Nicholas himself. I was told the
writing was that of an ancient language of some sort. Perhaps it is the translation of
Wings like an Eagle or an inside joke meant to amuse Nicholas....I dont know. Peter
lay back in the pillow. Phiona wished she would stay at his side forever.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

This is exactly what every artist needs, Mary said.

Mary. This room was designed for you, Edwin replied.
Mary looked at her former teacher in surprise. Edwin put a fatherly hand on Marys
shoulder.
You have an incredible gift, he said. Mary could hear the admiration in his voice.
Mary always got the strange feeling that Edwin knew her inside out. She already knew
that he was gifted at discerning a persons gifts, abilities and personal traits.
I believe that talent must always be nurtured to its full potential, Edwin said.
Mary didnt know how to say thank you. It was indeed exactly what she needed. She
looked around at the room again. It had a large drawing board propped up in the corner
with a fresh white sheet of paper on it. Several other papers were stacked on the desk
nearby. Beside them were paint brushes and pencils filling up a tin cup.
A large window that overlooked the wide beautiful valley below, bathed the place in
silvery, earthly daylight. It was peaceful: meditative.
Mary turned back to look at Edwin. Again it struck her that this man could look right
through a person. It was something about his eyes.
Youre welcome, Edwin said. He may just as well have read Marys thoughts. Now,
he continued as he glanced at his watch, is there anything you need? Ill be driving to
town any minute and will pass by the market to do some shopping.
She told him.
Mary had found living with Edwin quite comfortable. She had only spent a few days at
his house but Edwin had been so accommodating that the place felt like home. In the

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beginning Mary had wondered how a primary school teacher such as himself could
afford a house like this. He even had a car. Such things were uncommon in a country
were primary school teachers earned a salary that was barely enough for them to get by.
She soon learnt that the teacher came from a family with a lot of money.
The house, which was situated quite a distance from the main town, was perched about
halfway up a small hill. Beside the hill was a large valley with a huge farm occupying
about three quarters of it.
The house was basically made of wood and metal. The walls, floors and ceiling were
made of deep, dark, good quality panels of wood. The place was comprised of three
bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and a store.
It had been decided weeks ago that Mary would spend some time at Edwins home.
Edwin had taken Phiona, Mary and Michael out to lunch at a cozy restaurant that he
commonly frequented. Mary had quickly grown bored of the adult talk going on beside
her and turned to look at the scattering of strangers around her. She looked and
wondered.
Who did they go home to after work? What were they thinking about at this moment?
Family? Friends? Or was one of them pondering an impossible problem?
After a while a Mary became aware that the conversation going on beside her was about
her.
..No. Edwin, Phiona was protesting, it really isnt necessary.
I insist. It would be no bother at all, Edwin said. They had all ordered rice, peas, meat
and a salad. The adults drank mineral water while Mary sipped a soft drink.
But- Phiona said helplessly. Edwin had offered Mary a visit to his home several times
already. Phiona was weary of his offers even though she knew Mary would love the
invitation plus it would take some worry off her chest. Phiona glanced over at Michael
who was nested in a cot near the window. She seemed deep in thought.
She can stay for a few weeks and return anytime she wants, Edwin said. I can fairly
say I know the kind of pressure you face daily. I can take Mary off your hands for a
while.
Mary was glancing back and forth between the two. Edwin seemed to be concealing an
inner excitement. Phiona and Mary had grown to trust Edwin over time. He had become
a close family friend.
Mary what do you say? Phiona asked. Would you like to stay at Edwins place?

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Mary nodded enthusiastically. Edwin smiled and Mary understood that her former
teacher had been planning this moment for a while.
On her first night there, Mary learnt that Edwins wife and children no longer lived with
him. Although she did see pictures of them hung up on the living room walls. Seated
next to the living room fireplace, Edwin told her story after story about his youth days.
I wanted to become a professional artist, he said, like I am sure you do.
I dont- Mary began then stopped.
What? Edwin asked.
Nothing, Mary said. Edwin looked at her-looked through her.
Mary, you can feel free with me.
I-I dont want to be an artist, she said.
You dont?
I mean I do but I that isnt what I think of when I paint. When I paint I do it
because.. Mary looked up as if searching for the right word. I feel I was made to do
it.
Edwin looked at her for a while before slowly nodding. They were both silent for a
moment.
You said you wanted to become an artist. What happened? Mary asked. Edwin
shrugged.
Family, he said.
Family?
I had to abandon my dreams when my father who was the sole provider of the family
passed away. I took over family business. It was a tough moment in my life. Art was my
passion and I was forced to abandon it. He sounded bitter. Mary felt bad for him.
What kind of business was it?
Many things, Edwin replied. He took a sip of his drink. Restaurants, retail shops,
rental housesmy father was considered a major business expert.
Who runs them now? Mary asked.

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My brother, Edwin said. He is also my twin. When I was able to make it clear that I
had no desire to continue running the family business I handed the reins over to him and
took up a teaching job.
They talked until about ten oclock night. Mary found him interesting and easy to
converse with. When the flames in the fireplace dwindled, the two retired for the night.
Without thinking, Mary opened her mouth to remind the adult that it was time for their
usual nighttime story when she remembered that it was Edwin not Phiona that she had
spent the night with.

*
Edwin had given strict rules about where Mary could or couldnt go during her time at
his place. She was allowed venture to the bottom parts of the hill and the farm in the
valley but the upper parts were completely out of bounds. There was a dirt road that run
from the house, zigzagged down the hill to join the main road that run all the way to the
main town. It was on this road that Mary decided to do her exploring.
She bypassed a few houses on her way down. Most of them were almost the same as
Edwins house in terms of size, building material and architecture. She arrived at a
junction in the road. One, slightly smaller, road led off to the west-more tree congestedside of the hill, the other took a slight dip and curved out of sight. She knew that the
latter would eventually lead to the valley and the farm below. Mary decided to postpone
visiting the farm until later. She crossed over and immediately began her trek along the
smaller road.
A few minutes later Mary came to a slight rise and curve to the left. She reached the
apex and found herself near a grassy clearing beside the road that dipped down all the
way to another large gathering of trees. She could see a few brick houses several yards
below her beside the trees. They were the first brick houses she had seen on the hill.
Smoke drifted lazily from one of the chimneys. It occurred to Mary that the scene would
make a lovely painting.
She walked on. The trees were much less now. The air was cool and refreshing. Her
mind felt clear and sharp. Her senses took in the sights, sounds and smells like highly
programmed machines. She arrived at another clearing. A leveled, grass covered ground
as big as a small house lay to her immediate left. She walked over and sat on the soft
grass.
Below her, on the hill slope, two buildings were visible. One a church, the other
appeared to be a school. Several children in blue and white uniform played at its front.

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She watched them play. Mary missed school. After a while, a bell within the church
rang loudly. The children drifted towards the church and one by one walked through its
front door.
Mary lay back on the grass and looked at the clear blue sky. A few birds circled high
above. Lords of the sky, she thought. After a while, she felt drowsy and her vision
became blurred. Soon, she was asleep.
Mary came across old work done by Edwin. It was very impressive. They were all
signed with his name in the bottom left corner of each paper. Mary came across an
unfinished painting of a young girl standing in front of what appeared to be a flower
filled garden. Mary spent a few minutes trying to remember where she had seen the
girls face when she realized this was a picture of Edwins daughter. Just like the time
she had seen the Edwin family photo in living room, she inwardly acknowledged that
the girl was very pretty indeed. Where was she right now? Where was Edwins wife?
She continued to look through the boxes of books and paper. She found a blank piece of
paper with the words The Guardian written at the top. Perhaps Edwin had meant to
start the painting but for some reason, he hadnt found the time to do so.
The Guardian.
The word stirred something inside Mary. An image sprang into her head. It was one of
those art ideas she got that would suddenly pop into her mind and stick there. In the
hours that followed, she felt a constant urging to bring that image to life. She felt excited
about the idea. Before she settled down to begin her work, she once again reflected on
the enigma that was Edwin. Time and again, he had gone out of his way to do something
special for Mary. Mary was beginning to feel a father-to-daughter bond growing
between them. It was an awkward feeling as Edwin had his own biological daughter.
Why was he no longer living with his family?
The more she learnt about Edwin, the stranger the man seemed. When Mary had first
met the art teacher she had no idea he someone with a many-layered personality. It was
during an art lesson that they first met and within that time Edwin recognized Marys
talent almost instantly.
Mary could clearly remember that day at her former school. It was a dull, hot afternoon
and almost all the children in class were feeling lazy. Edwin walked into the class and
surveyed the scattering of children. He looked refreshed and eager for the lesson to
commence. A few of the students exchanged puzzled looks as Edwin wasnt their usual
art teacher.

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Edwin placed his briefcase on the table and took out some sample paintings. He propped
them up onto the teachers table for everyone to see.
One was of an old stone building, the other a large brown bear and the last one, a stack
of books. He began the class with a roll call.
Alright, he said when he was done. He clapped his hands once and rubbed them
together.
Let us get started. He picked up a piece of chalk.
My names are Edwin Mbaru, he paused to write his name on the board.
Ms. Kathy, your former teacher will no longer be taking you in this class. I am your
new teacher. He spoke quickly and wasted no words.
Art is a wonderful and complex subject. It is more than a science, it is a lifestyle. I will
help you understand the subtle methods of blending colors and creating drawings or
paintings that leap out of the pages.
The students were hanging onto his every word. A few minutes later, he told them to get
started drawing a vase that he had placed next to the paintings on the table. Mary, who
had very recently discovered her love for art found that when she drew, it seemed to
come naturally. It flowed easily, smoothly and effortlessly. It was with fluid motions
that she joined the curves and lines of her entire drawing.
She was the first to finish. She sat idle, admiring her drawing up and down. Edwin came
over to her desk and picked up her work. Years of experience had taught him that great
artwork took time to reach its perfection. This girl had obviously rushed the assignment
but had still produced fabulous work.
This is good, he said, meaning it. Her work had totally taken him by surprise. This
kind of work usually belonged to someone years her senior.
Whats your name? he inquired.
Mary. Mary Asimwe. Edwin continued to look at the drawing. He muttered again,
(more to himself than Mary) This good work. Very good work.
Edwin spent the rest of the lesson helping the other students hone their craft. A few
minutes to the close of the lesson, while Mary was examining an intense mixture of
colors, she felt a tingling sensation in her eyes. Of recent she had been experiencing eye
pain but at the time, she and Phiona had no idea what the pain occurrences were all
about.

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The itching quickly turned into intense pain. She was immediately taken to the school
sick-room. Several minutes later, she lay on one of the beds in the room and was
relieved that the pain had greatly reduced. Thats when she spotted it: a mysterious light
bouncing off a metal tin stationed on a table several feet away. It was different from any
color she had ever seen. It was a tricky mixture of blue, purple and pink. It was hard to
describe and seemed to move off the tin in a fluid motion. Like smoke, it curled and
twisted in the air. Mary stared at it in amazed wonder. A school nurse came in.
Look! Mary said, Do you see that? Mary asked as she pointed at the tin. The nurse
looked at the tin in confusion.
See what? the nurse asked.
That! There! Rising off the tin!
As the nurse continued to look confused, Mary realized that this wasnt something
everyone could see. She then wondered if her earlier pain had something to do with it.

*
The two children always played near the small river. They were twin brothers who
shared many interests. One of them was the love for exploring nature: plants and
animals. They both had a good eye for spotting the small and easily overlooked things.
Their parents had warned them not to play too far up the stream. It was a restricting rule
and the boys didnt like restrictions. They always looked forward to the holidays at the
end of the school term when they could explore to their hearts content.
Today, Adrian, the older of the two (by a few hours) waddled around barefoot in the
stream. The bottom of the stream was filled with colorful and transparent stones.
Andrew was seated on the grass near the stream, looking bored.
What should we do? Andrew asked. He was a mirror reflection of his brother. He had
grey eyes, thin lips, wavy hair and golden brown skin.
I dont know, Adrian said. He kicked some stones. The holidays are boring.
During the school term you said school was boring, Andrew said. Adrian shrugged.
The two fell silent. After a few minutes Adrian spoke,
Look! he exclaimed. Andrew jumped up and peered into the stream. A golden ball of
light was moving in the water. It shone brightly. Like a window pane reflecting sunlight.

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What is it? Andrew asked. Adrian looked closely at the golden ball of light.
Its a fish, he said. A goldfish!
The two boys watched as the animal darted back and forth near Adrians feet. Andrew
turned around and started to ran towards the house that stood several yards away.
Where are you going? Adrian shouted.
To get a bowl. We need to catch it! was the reply. Andrew was already out of breath
by the time he reached the house. Andrew always felt proud that the building standing in
front of him was their house. It had been in their family for generations. It had been built
as far back as the early twentieth century. It was a two storied structure made of stone
and the architecture was gothic.
Inside the house, Andrew quickly rummaged through the kitchen cupboards. He finally
came across a large plastic, rectangular shaped bowl. He hurried back to the stream with
it. Adrian filled the bowl with water then scooped up the fish and quickly put it in the
bowl. Andrew carried their new prize back home. Their parents had created for them a
small store at the back of the house where they could keep their entire animal and plant
collection. For some reason, the goldfish held their attention more than any of the other
creatures they had collected. They stood in silence and watched the fish dart about in its
cage.
It was beautiful.
Miles away, a young girl sleeping on a grass bed, dreamt that someone had found her
former pet fish and given it a home.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

The wall was magnificent, as was the house. There was really no better way to describe
them. It made their new house feel more like home than anything. The house was wider

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than it was tall and made of white stone that seemed to glow whenever it reflected the
mid or early morning sun. It was perfectly chiseled. The wall rose above the house and
from the road coming to the house, one could only see part of the building. It was a rare
piece of architecture, quite unlike any Mary had seen in the area. It was so beautiful
that Mary would closely scrutinize the marble-like stones, architectural curves and
other parts of the building. She was also able to see directly down onto the wall top
because part of the house was built on a raised platform that rose slightly above the
back part of the wall.
Phiona and Mary had lived there for almost a year and they were quite content with it.
Phiona had started a new retail business and Mary was now regularly attending school.
Their change in fortune could be attributed to basically two events. Before those events,
Marys biological father paid Phiona an unexpected visit. He didn't approach the house
directly. Instead, he sent someone to tell Phiona to meet him several houses away,
where he'd parked his car.
At the time Mary didn't know who Phiona had gone to meet and thought nothing of her
departure. If she had known, she'd have crept along to see him. The temptation would
have been too strong. He had given Phiona an envelope which predictably had
contained money. What was unpredictable was the amount. It was enough for them to
move into a new home and put Mary through school. That was the first bit of blessing.
The second surprise came when Mary won the art tournament. She had outdone artists
that had significantly more experience than her. That in itself was a wondrous
achievement from which she could begin a professional career in art. Then came the
third surprise: a world known, greatly influential man and art lover bought her painting
for an outrageous sum of money. The media outdid the story of a young artist that had
achieved recognition faster than anyone her age in the countrys history. Piles of
newspaper articles stashed in Marys bedroom could testify to that fact.
Now, as she stood on the balcony of the house having returned from the doctor, she
reflected on the parrot she had seen earlier in the day. It was a huge coincidence that
the bird had been the same type as Angel and had been taught to say those exact
words......or was it? Angels original owner kept many birds, one of which could have
been a parrot just like Angel and taught to say Flying in the Sky! It was possible.
Mary wondered if she would ever find out.
Their tradition of nighttime stories was still practiced. Phiona was reading to Mary.......
the Master called to him from the mountain and spoke to the warrior in a deep
wondrous voice, Come!. At once the warrior felt himself being lifted up and carried
to the top of the mountain. From the top, he could see a great distance down to where

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the city lay. It was more dazzling and beautiful than the warrior had ever imagined. The
Master said. That is the city which you have so faithfully sought and in which you
shall live forever.
Mary was fully attentive but weary after the long day. She drifted off to sleep.

THE END

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