CHAPTER 8
The Girl in the Dream

They all took to calling Nasomi’s pregnancy “the Girl in the Dream”: Tambo, Naena, Teeyana and Father, even the neighbor woman who came over once in a while to help out in the house for a few coins, though she didn’t understand how the name came about.

“How’s the Girl in the Dream?”

“She’s kicking much in the night.”

“When is the Girl in the Dream coming?”

“She’s due for two more months.”

Nasomi had told them about the dream and the little girl in it who had looked like Tambo. She left out the part about Father dying, because, given all the things that had happened, she suspected the dream to be a telling dream. Sometimes she felt like weeping, even though she had not dreamed it again for many months now. But how does one mourn for someone who has not died yet? Not knowing if there was anything she could do about it was what bothered her the most.

Perhaps cherishing her relationship with her father was the best she could do. When she was with him, she watched him with a deep fascination. How he spoke, moved his head, twiddled his hands. What a wonderful man he was.

She thought often: Everyone dies, and his time will come, one way or the other, whether as in the dream or not. To celebrate his life is the most important thing.

“I have a name already for her,” Tambo had said. “But I will keep it till she’s born.” It was bad luck in Narite tradition to speak out loud a child’s name before it was born, even if it was just a proposed one.

“I know it will be a good name,” Nasomi replied. She didn’t mind waiting. “But what if it’s a boy?”

“I have a name prepared for him. But I believe it’s a girl. Your dreams portray true things.”

The only telling dream she’d had since that one was of a large wagon carrying stones down the road near the house. The wagon broke a wheel, tilted, and the stones tumbled off. Then rain poured down heavily, and the deep mud made it impossible to remove the wagon for five days.

When Teeyana visited one day and said a wagon blocked the road, Nasomi said, “It will rain today.”

And it did a few hours later.

Teeyana visited often, bringing gossip and gifts. She would sit with Nasomi on a reed mat outside the house when it wasn’t raining, and they would watch the birds fly into and out of the senegalia trees in the back, name shapes of clouds, and talk about daily goings-on. Teeyana was a sweet, modest girl, easy to talk to. Nasomi liked her much that it didn’t long to tell her about the telling dreams.

“Did you have any more?” she would ask at her next visit.

“Not since the wagon one.”

A few weeks after the wagon wreck was removed, Teeyana visited again, bringing with her a sack of onions and red beans imported from the kingdom of Wani. “I will not stay long,” Teeyana said. “I must go supervise the sculpturing of a winged lion in Inkanyamba.”

“The district or the King’s Island?” Nasomi asked, receiving the gifts.

“King’s. They want to adorn the entrance with a large sculpture from each of the eight clans. Father assigned me as his ambassador. Kukalo is unfit to do it.”

“Unfit?”

Teeyana gritted her teeth into an apologetic grin. Nasomi knew that this had to be about Reema.

Nasomi was happy with her life, being married to Tambo, pregnant with his child. Deep down inside her, in the space of knowing, the place where she felt the Mara spoke to her through her dreams, she knew this was the life she was supposed to have. But sometimes the guilt of having robbed Reema of Tambo was heavy. She wished she could reach out to her, give her a hug or grovel for forgiveness, remind her she was beautiful, queenly and could have a wonderful life. Nasomi wished she could have a good telling dream for Reema, one about a good future.

But she might be the last person Reema would want to talk to. “It’s well, Yana. You can tell me about it.”

“She’s gone.”

Nasomi touched her heart.

“I mean she’s left the city. Everyone thinks so. She snuck out of Kukalo’s house two nights ago. Ran away with most of his wealth.”

“You’re telling me?”

“Copper, bronze and gold. She all but took everything. How she managed to do that without people in the house or in the entire palace knowing is… well, amazing. She’s always been too clever for him.”

“Kukalo used to beat her. Maybe she’s had enough of that.”

“Kukalo can be a brute sometimes. But Reema — she’s hardheaded. She is clever. She can use any bad circumstance to her own advantage. Like a hyena, you see. You know that saying: Hyena will eat black and shit white? They quarreled much, those two, and he would say bad things to her, and she would accept it all without shedding a tear. Then she would tell him something that has the whole palace snickering behind his back, and in the morning she would cook him the best meal and tell him she loved him. He was smitten with her in such moments. He didn’t see this coming.”

“You think she was planning this?”

“No one knew, but it makes sense now, if you think about it. Nothing happens around Reema that she hasn’t planned, or that she won’t include into her plan.”

“She probably has gone far enough.”

“I think so. She wouldn’t be foolish to still be in the city. Kukalo has sent spies around, but she went with four servants, three horses, and a wagon. I don’t think he’ll ever find her.”

When Teeyana left, Nasomi tried to distract herself with chores, but she couldn’t put Reema off her mind.

In the evening, Tambo arrived with the sweat and smile of a man satisfied with his work. He was getting darker from all the hard work in the sun. And slimmer. Farm work was not something he was used to, even after all these months, but he was a dedicated man. He tilled and weeded and scythed despite the toll it had on him. She knew he never wanted to show off any weakness. She loved him for that.

He set down a hoe and ax off his shoulders, came to give her a kiss on her forehead. “Almost done,” he said. “We will finish the clearing tomorrow and we can start creating the mounds for planting.”

She nodded, offering a smile. “Take a bath and I will serve you supper.”

He stretched and cracked his neck and fingers. “Ooh, I’m exhausted. Some beer would do me some good too. I’m in the mood for singing.”

Nasomi laughed. “What?”

“I want to drink and sing. For you and the Girl in the Dream. I can sing, you know.”

“Well, if you call it singing… But I take what I am given.”

He reached to pinch her and she dodged. “I’ll show you how well I can sing, woman. But first I must be inebriated.” He made gestures in the air. “That’s when the voice comes out well.”

“Ha! I am thinking to take some, too. For hearing well.”

He laughed as he made his way to the bathroom.

“Yana came,” she said, walking to the bathroom door to watch him undress. “She brought some onions and beans for us.”

“I’m glad. She’s always been a good sister. How is she? I have missed many of her visits.”

“She’s well. Busy with a project at the King’s Palace.”

“Mhmm. Good, good.”

“She told me some news.” As she relayed the news about Reema, Tambo listened with a mature attentiveness, lifting his hand to scratch at his head every few heartbeats.

When she was done, he came to her, held her on her shoulder and offered a wide smile. “Forget about her. It is good she has gone. We have our good life to live.”

After supper and a generous amount of beer for him and a moderate amount for her, Tambo got to sing. He had hummed numerous times before and joined in a few choruses during New Year, the Burning, and whenever a Burial procession passed by near home. But now he was singing by himself. His voice was breathy, halting, and he struggled to inflect some parts, but he sang.

He bawled out parts of The Crocodile ate the Lion, switched to Two Drunken Girls, lingered on the chorus of The Half-Man Fell in Love, and stood and stomped his feet to Village by the Hill. Nasomi joined him, and she laughed so hard she had to hold her ribs. The baby kicked.

It was a beautiful night.

Two months later, the Girl in the Dream was born. Two elderly midwives knelt before Nasomi as she lay on a reed mat, drenched in sweat, washed in pain. They coaxed her to push, and Teeyana and Naena were her doulas, each holding a hand. Her abdomen was on fire, her back stung, her bladder pressed and she was afraid she would spray the midwives with a gush of urine.

Then the pain exploded, knocked hear near unconscious, whitening her vision. Her ears rang and her head pounded as she came to. She could feel the baby coming out, and relief shuddered through her every inch the baby moved.

“You can do it, Somi,” Naena said, caressing her right hand. “It will pass. You will be happy in a moment.”

Teeyana simply held her left hand tightly, saying nothing.

One of the midwives began to sing, while the other said, “Push, my daughter. Give us the child.”

Nasomi did. A sharp wailing rang in the air, and there was a collective gasp of joy. Someone shouted, “It’s a girl!”

Nasomi laid her head back on the mat, crying. So much joy welled up in her she didn’t know what to do with it but cry.

They gave her the baby to feed after they cleaned it. Nothing in the world, in her life hitherto, could encompass the pride, joy, and love she felt in that moment. Not the lingering pain, not the sweat, not the wetness. Not the scary uncertainty of life she’d often felt.

The others went about cleaning her and the vicinity. They helped her onto the bed, covered her, returned the baby to suck her breast.

When all was ready, Father and Tambo were let in. Tambo knelt beside her, stroked the baby. He smiled so wide one would think he would rend his lips. “She’s beautiful. Just like the mother. I am so happy.”

“What’s her name?” Father asked.

Tambo didn’t speak for a while, leaving everyone in anticipation. “Her name is Ramona. Ramona Mwanakepe Go.”

“I love it!” Teeyana said.

“Lovely name,” said Naena.

“Good name,” Father said. “It means whom the Mara watch over.”

Nasomi said, “I couldn’t think of a more glorious name. Our Ramona. Our daughter. I can’t contain my happiness, Tambo.”

“Neither can I.” He held her hand. “We’ve made one beautiful baby.”

When everyone but Tambo and Naena left, Nasomi fell asleep to the sound of rolling thunder in the sky. She had a telling dream. She knew it was a telling because she knew she was dreaming. She was aware of her body on the bed. She could feel her mind whipping away from it, making sense of what she saw:

She was a ghostly awareness upon a grassy plain, with a grey mountain on the horizon. She could float anywhere, into anything. She felt the rumble of the earth when she became a rock, the sucking up of moisture from the ground when she became a little green plant. She turned and twirled with the breeze. She matched with a thousand ants in file.

Someone was coming down a path. It was herself, older, looking like she carried the weight of the world. She had a staff in her hand, using it as a casual walking stick, and a large frayed cloak bellowed at her back.

From the opposite direction, two people ran to meet the older Nasomi. The first was a girl about fifteen years old, the second a boy of about twelve. The girl rushed and embraced her. “I knew you'd come back, Mother.”

“I told you I would. You're so grown up so big, Mona.” She lifted her off the ground, twirled her around, laughing. “And heavy.”

The boy held back, looking down. He wore all black: from his tunic to his heavily-soled boots.

“Meron,” she called to the boy. “Come to your mother.”

He only looked at her. “You came to me, in my dreams.”

“It was truly me. I saw all that happened, but it’s now over. Come hug your mother.” He came and she pulled him into a tight embrace. “Everything will be fine now.”

“Where's Father?” Ramona asked.

“He and Djina are waiting for Mdua. I thought to come ahead. I saw you coming.”

“Who are Djina and Mdua?” Meron asked.

“One is a girl. The other is a dragon.”

When the Nasomi dreaming floated into the Nasomi in the dream, the world warped away. She was trapped in a smaller darker place, and she thought she could see grass threads in the dark, forming a piece of tapestry. She smelled sweat, felt a cold prickle on her arm.

It took a while for her to realize she was awake, lying uncovered on the feather bed. Tambo snored softly next to her. She jerked up to see baby Ramona sleeping soundly. She watched the tiny chest heave and fall. Heave and fall.

She smiled.