CHAPTER 9
A Life Lived Well
Nasomi’s premonition of a dream to be fulfilled became stronger with Ramona’s growth into a jumpy curious girl. Father got sick after Ramona turned three. He coughed much and had trouble breathing. When he didn’t have the strength to go to his fields anymore, Nasomi went to look after him. She made Ramona stay with Tambo, but the girl cried so much he had to bring her to Nasomi.
“Mona, it is important that you stay with your father,” Nasomi told her. “Your grandfather is sick, and I need to take care of him.”
Ramona wailed and refused to go. “I want to see grandfather,” she insisted.
Nasomi was furious. “Mona! You will go with your father or you won’t like what I’ll do to you!”
The girl hid behind Naena’s skirt.
“Let her be, Somi,” Naena said. “Father feels better when she’s around.”
“You don’t understand, Nae. She can’t be here.”
Tambo held her on the shoulder and took her aside. “The field is too hot and boring for her. And she’s crying all the time. She’s better here.”
Nasomi sighed. “I guess there’s nothing I can do.”
“She needs time with her grandfather. Even in his worst moments.”
“You’re right.”
He waved at Ramona as he went away. Nasomi went back to apologize to Ramona. “I’m sorry for shouting at you. You can stay all you want.”
The girl grinned and ran to her grandfather’s bedroom, and he told her the stories he used to tell Nasomi. Ramona didn’t seem bothered when bouts of coughing interrupted his narration. She sat on a stool or on the bed, entranced in the telling.
“She’s just like you when you were small,” Father said when Nasomi brought him his medicine and found Ramona asleep. “Do you remember?”
“I remember some.”
“It feels like it’s you all over again. All the questions… and she tells stories of her own, you know that?”
“I do, Father. She’s quite imaginative.”
“Nurture that in her. Never let her lose that innocence.”
She didn’t know if that was a jab at her or just an expression of nostalgia. Nasomi picked up Ramona, took her to her former room and placed her on the bed. She distracted herself from thinking by keeping busy: cooking, washing, mixing Father’s medicines; but she often caught herself wiping off a tear.
Naena moved about the city, from one medicineman or -woman to another, buying various remedies. They all seemed to offer similar mixtures of herbs, with yellow justicia and gum acacia as the main ingredients. But she always went to look for more, just in case she found something different.
Whenever she returned home, she and Nasomi bathed Father, kept him warm, dabbed him with a wet cloth when he had a fever, cooked for him all his favorite foods, took him for short walks, nagged him to take his medicines. In the kitchen, they held hands as they whispered prayers to the Mara for his healing. Nasomi still could not find the courage to tell Naena about the dream.
The next day, Father insisted on seeing his field. Nasomi went to find a cart to take him there. The work went on well without him; Gani and Nas weeded and patrolled the field faithfully, and brought home the coins from the sale of the crops. Father remained in the shade of the cart, glad to be out of the house. He told Ramona of a story of beings who created an invisible city with magic.
“What is magic?” the girl asked.
“Magic…. Mhmm. Magic is doing something that is beyond what is normal for humans to do. If you could fly, that would be magic. Or if a horse could talk.”
“I want a talking horse.”
He laughed. “That would be scary.”
“The mages can do magic.”
“Oh, yes they can. The mages used to be a group of people who lived in the caves of Mount Lupili. They discovered what magical properties myama had, and they isolated themselves in the caves, creating a language of magic and weapons of fire. They never let anyone know their secrets or learn their writing for hundreds of years. But Kanguya, the first king of Nari, managed to convince them and they fought with him in his battles. Their tribe has dwindled over the years and now there remains only two of them in the entire world.”
“Are they nice?”
“Are they nice? Well, Ramona, I wouldn’t know. I have not met them. They stay in King’s Island, protecting the royal family and studying their magic. They rarely come out.”
“Can they fly?”
“From what I hear, some.”
On the way back home, Ramona slept in her grandfather’s arms. Nasomi bit her nails till she couldn’t contain what she was thinking anymore. “I would hate, after she’s become so close to you, that you would…”
“Die? Nasomi, my daughter, I would hate that so much, too. I desire to see her grow up into a beautiful, intelligent woman.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m keeping her away from you. It’s just that… that… I had a dream, Father.”
“Tell me.”
“I dreamed that you died from this.”
He was quiet for a while. “Death comes for everybody.”
“I dreamed this before I got married to Tambo. And it was so real, Father. Like the ones Naena has told you about.”
“Like the ones you had as a little girl?”
“What?”
“You used to have nightmares, and they frightened you so much you were always afraid of going back to sleep. You would describe such strange things you saw in these dreams, and you thought they were real. I and your mother did all we could to explain that they were just dreams.”
She thought deeply. “I don’t know why I can’t remember that.”
“Well, you were young. And to be honest, some of the things you described were surprisingly accurate, but I put them off as coincidences, and… after a short while, they never bothered you again. So when Naena told me of your dreams, I knew they were back.”
She took his hand. “Father, I don’t want you to die. And I don’t know what to do. I am scared.”
“Would you let me?”
“Would I let you what?”
“Die. Look, my daughter. If this is my time to go, I’d be glad to. I would never have asked for a better life than this, neither of a better way to end it. I have seen you and Naena grow up to be strong, mature ladies. Nothing makes me happier. And to see you marry and have a child of your own, what a pretty girl she is, I know your future is a wonderful one.”
“I would have never expected you to say that.” She sniffled.
“If these dreams are part of who you are, embrace them. From my perspective, and I am quite sure others would say the same, your life is beautiful. You struggle with these little things like dreams. And yet there are so many wonderful things going on in your life.”
“Nae told me something similar.”
“You see? You know my life, Nasomi. I thought I would be a warrior, I wanted to be one. Then I saw myself being a rich merchant, the richest in Nari. When the Gold Road became a call to adventure for many youths in those days, that’s where I wanted to go. But life stood in the way. Sickness, poverty, living from scraps and having to take care of my parents and siblings. I thought all that was in the way, but when I look back, it was all part of my way. My path. My gold road.
“When I met your mother, I found my happiness. I knew I would give up a thousand dreams just to be with her. Life opened up for me. Every morning — just waking up became an adventure for me because I got to see her face, and hear her speak. Then you came along, and we got Naena from your uncle, and my world was complete. I thought I wanted ten children.” He laughed, coughed, took a deep breath. “I realized being your father was one of the greatest joys to me. I have wanted to raise you the best way I could.
“Should I be scared that I am going to die? Maybe, and my heart rips open to having to leave you children by yourselves. But you telling me your dream has given me a chance to see that I have done all I can as your father. I have made mistakes, said what I shouldn’t have, lost my temper at inappropriate times. Yet, I have known joys and fulfillments kings and queens long for. Mine has been a life lived well.”
Nasomi leaned on his shoulder and wept.
“I am going to be with your mother. I am excited to go be with her, and I am sorry this is the time I have to leave you. But I know I have left you with a small farm and some wisdom to carry you through. Nasomi, thank you for your dreams.”
In the evening, when Naena returned, he called her to his bedside and said, “Naena, thank you so much for being who you are.” Then he slept. He was so peaceful a storm wouldn’t wake him up.
“What was that about?” Naena asked.
Nasomi hugged Naena. “Father being Father. I love you, sister.”
Naena smiled. “I love you too, sister.”
Over the next five days, they watched Father deteriorate in body but glow in spirit. He grew thin, his clothes hung heavy on him. He couldn’t speak anymore, and Ramona cried for stories. He touched the girl’s cheeks and smiled for her. There was a glimmer in his eyes.
He died on a cool night, wrapped snugly in a woolen blanket, a hint of a smile on his lips. Nasomi sat at the edge of his bed, Ramona sat on her favorite stool in rapt attention, as though her grandfather were still telling stories, and Naena stood by the doorway shedding silent tears.
Even though Nasomi had known this day was coming, it was not any less painful. Her heart felt as though it would rip out of her chest, her throat was as heavy as a stone, and she couldn’t cry it out enough.
He was buried with three others in the grave dug for that week. It was a small Burial as far as they went. But it was the worst Burial for Nasomi. She had not cried as much for Mother as she did for Father, not had as much emptiness as she felt now. Perhaps because this was like a finality, like now she was truly set to face the world by herself. Rely on her own knowledge, judge by her own wisdom. Even though she was a woman grown, with her own family, she felt like a child who lost her parents in a throng at night. And will never see them again.
Teeyana, Dembo and their mother showed up. They comforted her and Naena, offered gifts and prayers.
When they returned home after the Burial, Naena said she would be fine alone at Father’s house. She said she needed time to find strength in prayer. Tambo, Nasomi, and Ramona went to their home in Kwindi. The house felt hemmed in, and even though nothing actually moved, it felt like the walls were closing in and would squash Nasomi. She couldn’t breathe.
“I need some air outside,” she said. “Hold Ramona, will you?”
Ramona rushed to find her sandals. “Ma, take me,” she babbled.
“No, baby, stay. I will not be long.”
The girl covered her eyes with the back of her hands and started crying. Tambo picked her up, shushing and rocking her. “Mother will be back, Mona. Come I tell you a story.”
Nasomi went to kneel under one of the senegalia trees at the back of the house. She couldn’t pray, she couldn’t wish for anything. The scent in the air was a medley of rosemary from the bush nearby, gardenia flowers, and smoked chicken coming from a neighbor behind the line of trees.
Above her, a bird tooted and trilled. A nightingale. She was mesmerized by the many ranges of its song, like it was really singing or telling her a tale. Of a brave man who walked his road and married a beautiful woman and had a daughter who could dream things.
She cared for nothing, desired nothing but to listen to this song forever.
She felt a knowing sensation well up in her. The best way she could think of it was: a light tug deep in her belly, calling her to experience something new, to listen deeply, to understand more. That and the sweet aromas and the nightingale’s song brought her great peace, and she was ready to go back into the house.
The tugging feeling stayed with her for a week. She came to understand that it foreshadowed a telling dream. The dream that came one night was of Reema.