![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
Over the next few months, Moses would stop by Amy's on the way back to his hut each night, when the kids were all in bed or close to it. With Amy's help, he would count his takings for the day, record it in a little notebook, and then put most of the money away where it would be safe. They worked out a budget that would enable him to repay the loan in half the time he had been allowed, and he was putting some aside for emergencies too... repairs, sickness, bad weather, seeds for the farm. It left him and his sister barely enough for the most basic food, but Moses loved the challenge.
"You know, my baba wasn't all bad, Winky," he said without warning one evening in May, when they were just locking up the little metal box that held his earnings. Amy had taught him to address her by name as all the children did. "He was real nice when he wasn't drinking," Moses went on.
He had often talked about missing his mother, but It was the first time Moses had brought up the subject of his father, and so Amy sat back in an old soft chair to listen.
"Tel me about him," she said.
"He killed Mama, I know, and that was awful," the boy said, taking a seat across the room from Amy. "Baba had other women, too, down at the hut. But he was always regretting. Hated himself. He told me so."
Then Moses just sat quietly for a moment, thinking, before he spoke again.
"It was you talking about money that made me reminisce of him," he said. "Baba talked to me like that many times... not about money, but about drinking mostly. Made me promise never to do it. He said we had good blood... kind blood, if the alcohol didn't get in it. I don't like what he did to mama; but I'm goin' ta keep my promise, Winky."
"That's good!" said Amy with deep feeling and a motherly smile. "You do that and you won't never regret it."
Business was good for Moses, and Moses was good at business. He had painted, as well as he could with his left hand, the words "Waste not; Want not" on the bike's mud flap as a reminder. He wasn't as fast as the older drivers, but there were people who would still choose him over the others when there were several waiting at the stand. Was it the thrill of riding on a ten-speed, or maybe they felt sorry for him because of his young age and his missing arm? It was hard to tell. He didn't want pity, and he would sometimes refuse a customer when other drivers had been waiting longer than himself. But he knew that, if it was the ten-speed attracting customers, in time, the novelty would wear off; he would need something else to bring in business.
Moses had one final piece of news to share with Amy that evening. It hadn't been mentioned earlier because he was nervous about how she would take it.
"Man from the microbank came to the village today," he said.
"Real y?" asked Amy suspiciously. "What kind of business would he have way out here?"
"Took my picture!" said Moses with a proud grin. "For making a movie thing."
"He came all the way out here to take your picture?" Amy asked, still doing nothing to hide her suspicion.
"He wanted to see me ride the bike, and talk to people. Stuff like that. I was show acting for more than an hour. I missed a lot of fares because of it; but afterwards they all wanted to ride with me so I could tell them for myself what happened."
"And what is happening?" asked Amy, whose eye was twitching more than usual.
"They're making a testimonial or something, to show people how the bank works. I just talked about my testimony 'n stuff."
"Did they pay you anything?" Amy asked.
"No, but he gave a soda."
"I suppose it won't do no harm," said Amy. "But remember, son, you don't have to pose for pictures if you don't want."
"Me, I didn't do it cuz I had to, Amy. I did it because it was fun."
"Fair enough. Anyway, it's time for you to get on home. Rosy will be wondering what's happened."
The days were long for the two siblings, with Rosy working the shamba after school, and Moses putting in twelve to fourteen hours on the bike. He packed chapatis or ugali for lunch each day, but by knock-off time each evening, he was always starved. Rosy would have hot beans, ugali, and sukuma wiki waiting for him at home, and so he hurried off.