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#Post#: 55--------------------------------------------------
Phoning Home
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: December 18, 2019, 9:30 am
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Marion watched Zia sitting at her desk. She was a nearly
monochrome study in her white, long sleeved nightie with her
dark skin and close cropped hair. Her elbow was on the desk. She
had her phone.
Marion listened to the conversation:
"Halo Mummy ... nilikuamsha?"
"Ndio, lakini ni sawa, Zia. Kila kitu kinaendaje?"
"Ninajiandikisha kwa darasa saa sita kesho."
"Nilidhani tayari umechagua darasa lako."
"Nilifanya, lakini hizi ni miinuko, elimu ya mwili na chaguo
moja moja."
"Utachukua nini?"
"Kuanza kuogelea na ama muziki au afya."
"Inasikika nzuri ... nakumbuka darasa langu la usafi."
"Natarajia kupata muziki."
"Vipi kila kitu kingine."
"Niliendelea na safari ya kihistoria ya White Plains. Amerika
ilianzishwa na kikundi kimoja cha watu wa Kiingereza wanapiga
kundi lingine. Sisi walikuwa watumwa ikiwa tungelikuwa hapa
kabisa."
"Watu wetu hawakuwa kamwe watumwa, Zia."
"Waafrika walikuwa."
"Lakini sio Wakenya."
"Tulikuwa kama Wahindi wa Amerika, ni sisi tu tulioshinda."
"Unahitaji kutuliza siasa chini, Zia."
"Ndio mama"
"Kitu chochote kingine kinatokea?"
"Niliona tu wavulana wakiogelea na kwenye ziwa. Nadhani
nitawaona zaidi nitakapoanza madarasa."
"Hakuna mtu aliyekupa pombe au bangi?"
"Sio kweli!"
"Mzuri."
"Nakupenda binti yangu."
"Nakupenda pia mama."
--- Quote ---
> TRANSLATION
>
> "Hello Mummy...did I wake you?"
>
> "Yes, but it's alright, Zia. How is everything going?"
>
> "I register for class at noon tomorrow."
>
> "I thought you already chose your classes."
>
> "I did, but these are electives, physical education and one
other choice."
>
> "What are you going to take?"
>
> "Beginning swimming and either music or health."
>
> "Sounds good... I remember my hygiene class."
>
> "I'm hoping to get music."
>
> "How's everything else."
>
> "I went on a historical tour of White Plains. America was
founded by one group of English people fighting another group.
We were slaves if we were here at all."
>
> "Our people were never slaves, Zia."
>
> "Africans were."
>
> "But not Kenyans."
>
> "We were like the American Indians, only we won."
>
> "You need to tone the politics down, Zia."
>
> "Yes mama" Zia had to say that. She wondered how to have
nothing to do with politics if she was going to be a leader some
day. Politics was reality when you thought about it. '
>
> "Anything else happen?" Zia dreaded this.
>
> "I just saw boys swimming and in the pool. I think I'll see
more of them when I start classes."
> "Nobody has offered you alcohol or marijuana?"
>
> "Absolutely not!"
>
> "Good."
>
> "I love you my daughter."
>
> "I love you too mother."
>
--- End Quote ---
Marion was glad she texted her mother. That was even more
private...
#Post#: 56--------------------------------------------------
Re: Phoning Home
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: December 18, 2019, 2:44 pm
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Marion made a tent from her sheets and blankets and crawled into
her cave, covering even her head. Her cell phone cast a dim glow
as she messaged her mother.
"Greetings from KYIS."
She waited. In a sober home, parents can't go out partying.
Hopefully, they stay sober.
"Hi, Marion," Marion's mother responded.
"I get to register for class tomorrow."
"Did you got to the city today?"
"That was yesterday. I went on a historical walk to White
Plains."
"That must have been exciting." "And you are so effing
sarcastic," Marion thought.
"It wasn't bad. The area has a lot of history."
"So you enjoyed yourself." "Why did that feel like an
accusation?" Marion wondered.
"Yeah..."
"That's good. I wish I were enjoying myself."
"You only have two more months."
"Yeah.... We got out last night. Benny went and shot up. I asked
him to get us some weed, but no can do. I'm out $25.00"
"You going to snitch on Benny."
"I thought about it."
Marion's mother continued. "Your Dad hates snitches, worse than
thieves. Not sure I agree. This place is an effing prison."
"Is it...."
"Eff yes!"
"Mom, if Benny can get out, it's not much of a jail."
"Your Dad would like to be out on the water again."
"He has to be sober to sail."
"They took The Ship, damn federal government. They want to take
it as forfeit. I told the lawyer, whatever you do, we get The
Ship back. Think they'll listen?"
"Depends who's paying them."
"You may want to be a goody 2 shoes, Marion, but your head's
screwed on straight."
"You raised me right," Marion replied, though Mom and Dad had
been smart enough to let Shaunna and Gabriella do most of the
day-to-day work. Now they were gone, and Marion missed Shaunna
with a grief that made her throat hurt.
"It also depends who's paying the lawyer," Mom continued.
"Who's paying the lawyer."
"Your wonderful Uncle Niles."
"Oh shit."
"Yeah, big shit. Take away The Ship, and there will be real
shit."
"Take away The Ship and you're stuck in the United States."
"That sucks. This is not a free country."
"Is there any way for you to have a good time and keep your nose
clean?"
"Not really. Dad isn't thinking about this yet. I'm the one to
play for the future."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. At least you still remember your parents. Niles and
no good fucking Judith have the other three of you and they're
not letting them go."
"The babies call them 'Dad and Mom.'"
"I think they want to go to court and terminate our rights."
"They can't terminate my rights. I'm fourteen. I won't let
them."
"They got rid of you because you're loyal. The other kids...
sometimes I think they're gone."
"When you get done with the sober home and the trial, maybe you
can move up to Malta."
"It's a shit town in a shit part of the state."
"Yes, but if you're nearby you can ask for visitation."
"Yeah, but what if Niles and Judith brainwashed Nestor, Liza,
and Jason."
"It's worth a shot."
"They'll be looking over your father's shoulder. If he strays
one little inch. It will be worse than the sober home."
"You'll have to think it over then."
"I probably will. Stay safe, Marion."
"You too, Mom."
That was the end of the text message. Marion tried to pull her
thoughts off of Shaunna but they were stuck there with
superglue. Mom and Dad were not made to obey laws, and they hurt
no one, Marion told herself for the twentieth time. If you have
enough money you do what you want. "If only," she thought, "my
parents had been just a little more careful..."
#Post#: 97--------------------------------------------------
Re: Phoning Home
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 1, 2020, 1:30 pm
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Nairobi was seven hours ahead of New York in the summer time.
That made it just before dawn, but Zia's mother was always glad
to take her daughter's calls, though she quickly switched from
English to Kikuyu.
"I need to know what's going on," she said.
"Nothing special. I'm practicing reading and writing Kikuyu. My
teacher was surprised that I am a mixture of Luo an Kikuyu."
"Mixed marriages happen among enlightened people, especially
Christians. Your grandparents on both sides believe our country
has to rise above tribalism and ethnic division."
"Yes, mama," Zia answered.
"And how are your classmates."
Zia wondered what to tell her mother about Marion. She was a
diligent student, which was a good thing. She was not overly
crazy for boys. She had no apparent vices beyond liking the
taste of a certain, bright red, aparatif. She could draw. She
could swim. Her parents... well it really was not good to judge
someone by their ancestry.
"My roommate studies hard," Zia chose her words with care, "and
I went to church on Sunday. I've been twice in a row."
"That is good. How is church?"
"We have a trumpet and a piano player."
"Do they play mostly modern hymns?"
"They play a mix, Mama."
"And the service."
"It goes well enough." Zia thought of Laurence. "It is a liberal
church, Mama."
"How liberal."
"They accept ell-gee-bee-tee-queue."
"Oh.... It's like that. Have you thought of going to church off
campus? They'll give you a pass for that."
"Why should I do that and the answer is 'no.'"
"It would be an odd thing in our country. Even if I believe
what people do in private is private, a lot of people don't and
if word gets around you associate with... there are still some
very conservative people."
"How can people in government know what kind of church is on a
boarding school in the United States."
"Yes, but when you are older. You will come home. It's more
conservative here."
"Yes, mama."
"You understand? You will have to keep your mouth shut and
forget the kind of church you saw in the United States. That's
going to make things harder for you."
"Yes mama."
"I think you need to look for an African church. It doesn't have
to be Anglican, but something closer to home. This is the
problem with not being in a convent."
"Yes mama."
"Those laws are off the books in Kenya aren't they?" Zia asked.
"What laws."
"About persecuting ell-gee-bee-ti-queue people."
"If they are on the books, we don't enforce them, but out in the
bush people are more conservative. You don't think you are."
"No, I think I like boys." "If they are cute like Laurence. He
has a beautiful voice and the French manicure even looks good on
him."
"OK, don't like them too much. At least you haven't asked to
date."
"I don't think I could date with all the curfews they have
around here."
"On the weekend, but at least you are not thinking of it, and no
one has offered you anything intoxicating have they?"
"No one in my Suite does that kind of stuff," Zia answered.
Maybe older kids did, but the only time she saw them was at big
station parties, in the dining hall, or in the pool. You needed
an out of the way place to sell or smoke pot or to exchange
liquor bought with a fake ID.
"Good, you let me know if every you are tempted and find an
African church."
"Yes mama. I love you."
"I love you too."
Zia surfaced back into English. She fingered the words of
inspiration spelled out on the beaded necklace that held her
D-Card. She hung the D-Card on a small hook on her head board.
Marion was out printing off letters to her parents. She'd give
them to Miella to post. The first full week at school was
beginning. "I don't want to go to church with strangers," Zia
irritably thought. "I like the people I go to church with now.
It's where I belong." Still she told herself it could not hurt
to do some research. She wondered if Laurence would miss her.
#Post#: 147--------------------------------------------------
Re: Phoning Home
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: February 10, 2020, 9:09 am
---------------------------------------------------------
This had to be done. Lying across 15,000 kilometers was not easy
and it would get harder with each passing week. Zia pushed her
brain into Kikuyu. Across from her on the opposite bed, Marion
was preparing a letter that included photographs that she would
print off in the next day or two and send to one of her parents
who was locked up in a private gaol called a sober home.
Marion's parents had either done drugs or hung around with
people who did drugs. Marion felt the police should have left
her parents alone, but cops in the United States were largely
immune to bribery or exchange of favors, or so Zia gathered.
Marion's parents would otherwise not be suffering as they
currently did.
"Hello daughter," Zia's mother cried out through Zia's earbuds.
"Are you well?"
"Very well, mother. Mother, I have something to tell you... I am
not switching churches."
"You are not....Why not?"
"I like the kids I am with."
"And when you return to Kenya."
"I just say I go to church every week. I don't have to tell
people where. I am too young for politics. Nobody will even ask
me about certain issues. I look like too good a girl. Unless you
have differences with me, no one will know."
"You are a clever child," Zia's mother told her.
Zia was sure this was a backhanded compliment if ever she heard
one.
"That is not the worst thing in the world," Zia's mother walked
it back. "But for how long can you be tempted to be quiet. You
are not inside a convent any more."
"I can not vote here, so I can not be political here. I will go
to university after I graduate. I will not live where I can
change things until I come home, and then there will be other
matters." Business after all made the world go round when one
thought of it.
"Perhaps... There is not much I can do about this. I am glad you
decided to be truthful with me. You are still a good example to
the little ones."
"I try to be mama."
"Has any one offered you anything intoxicating?"
"Not this week," Zia wondered if her mother would get the joke.
"What about boys? Not the kind who paint their nails."
The school was too white bread and she who was both black and
barely developed didn't stand a chance. "I am not beautiful
enough," Zia told her mother finally.
"You are quite beautiful."
"Every child is beautiful in her mother's eyes."
"Yes, but...when you get home. You will grow out and fill out.
Give it time. If you let your hair grown in and braid it
then.... You have a fine face. If you go to University in
England there will be more African men."
"And you will worry about me."
"At some point, I won't have to worry because you will want to
marry and I am a realist."
That seemed impossibly far away, besides Marion was not going to
tell her mother that the boys who seemed to enjoy Marion's and
her company were positively disgusting. Marion seemed not to
have a problem with that, but Zia.... "My mother does not know
my shame," she thought when the phone call was over. She also
realized that she and her mother would not speak about church
again.
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