Chapter Nine
Deeta
I spend the rest of the afternoon in a state of emotional overload. I’m numbed against either excitement or trepidation. When my mother calls me to tell me it is time to leave for the meeting, I’m startled to find enough food for the five thousand taking up pretty much all of our kitchen surfaces.
The meeting is to be held in the dancehall; it seems strange taking the stairs to that floor so soberly, and in my case, miserably. It’s wrong somehow when I remember the times that I have taken them happily, wearing my best dress and giggling with the anticipation of a party.
I look around me again at the other people on the stairs, so silent and grim, all staring at the floor. They seem too embarrassed to look up in case inadvertently they should make eye contact with another. The only sound I can hear is that of our uniform marching; it’s like a scene from a nightmare, unreal and chilling.
Finally we reach the dancehall and look around. It’s different with chairs set out across the wooden floor, cold and unfriendly, with no trace of its usual gaiety.
Tom, Uncle Jep, and the children are already present, and as I enter the room I catch Tom’s eye. His expression is faintly sardonic. For a moment I don’t understand why, and then I see that their chairs have been segregated a little way off from the rest of us.
Others too are already present. As tribal Elders my father, Mr. Grey, and Mr. Clark all stand by the desk, waiting to set the proceedings in motion. Jamie and Ralph are standing uncomfortable and irresolute half way between the Jepsjons and the rest of us.
The last person I notice is Mr. Denby, seated as far away from the Jepsjons as possible, as though he’s afraid that somehow their Andak filth will rub off on him. He glances at me as I enter and, with the vague hope of heaping fiery coals, I send him my sweetest smile. All the while I’m hoping that one of the uncontrollable rages, that he will no doubt fling himself into during the proceedings, will finish him off.
Nella is sitting on the front row conversing, to my great surprise, with Jamie and Ralph. Ralph lifts his hand in a friendly salute, causing Nella to turn in her seat. She motions to me that I should join them, and I look quickly to my father. He nods briefly, and I make my way towards them.
“Mr. Denby has been here since half past three being completely obnoxious,” whispers Nell as I slide on to the chair beside her. She’s wearing a thunderously moody expression. “It was he that insisted the accused — the accused, Deeta! — were separated from the rest of us.”
For a second I think she might spit like an angry cat.
“Cool down, Nella, he’s not worth getting het up about.”
At Jamie’s words I expect Nella to make a caustic reply, but she shrugs her shoulders and answers that although Jamie’s right, it’s a very difficult maxim to put into practice. I suppose I must betray my astonishment because Ralph leans forwards to whisper conspiratorially in my ear.
“Jamie has taken Tom’s side in all of this and has been quietly talking people round to the fact that Tom is.” Ralph hesitates not wanting to use the name. “One of them. Nell was impressed I think, in any case — you can’t say this isn’t an improvement.”
I nod in agreement looking towards the two of them. It’s strange that these two erstwhile enemies are talking in a comradely fashion, whilst Tom and I, who have been friends for what seems an eternity, now meet with all the warmth of an early frost.
This change in Jamie and Nella’s relationship does of course make the atmosphere much better for me. At this moment to have them sniping at each other would have been the last straw.
“Do you think the tribe will vote to let them stay?” I ask Ralph nervously, as he sits down beside me.
“Jamie said that apart from Mr. Denby, and one or two others, everyone is taking a friendly stance towards the Jepsjons.”
My father stands in the middle of the hall and calls for silence.
“We are all aware of the reason that we have been called together, but the laws state that there should be a brief review. If we could all remain silent as this recap is made it would be appreciated.” My father lifts a piece of paper, and proceeds to read in a clear monotone. “On the 14th day of March our village was breached by the Andak soldiers, and Dec Jepsjon was abducted…”
“Let’s give him his proper name shall we, not the name of decent folk,” interrupts Mr. Denby loudly.
My father looks displeased at this outburst.
“Very well; Dec Andak was abducted, is that better Mr. Denby? On the 17th day of March our Guard returned home, and we were made aware of the fact that Keya Green was missing in action. Tomasz Andak then told us of his belief that both Dec and Keya had been taken by the same tribe, by the Andak. He also made us aware of the fact that he and Dec were members of the Andak tribe.” He lowers the paper. “It is the purpose of this meeting to decide what, if any, action should be taken.”
My father sits down, and Mr. Clark stands to address the assembled company.
“It is the unanimous opinion of the tribal Elders that there is no need for any action to be taken. If anyone wishes to express an opinion, please raise your hand.”
Before he has finished speaking Mr. Denby has jumped to his feet.
“I would like an explanation as to how the Elders could have come to the decision that it is acceptable to do nothing about this outrage?”
“Tom and Professor Jepsjon have lived peacefully with our tribe for sixteen years …”
“He,” Mr. Denby jabs an aggressive finger in Tom’s direction, “stated his allegiance to the Andak!”
For a moment there is silence of a deafening kind.
“I believe…”
“No one wants to know what you believe, Andak!” Mr. Denby cuts in.
“I would like to hear what Tom has to say, Mr. Denby.”
Jamie stands, his tall frame appearing even larger in among the seated people. Mr. Denby, taking a furtive look around, sinks back into his seat at the expression on Jamie’s face.
“Over to you, Tom.”
“I believe Mr. Denby is referring to a remark I made that, it is true, could be misconstrued. I was annoyed that people seem to think that the only considerations are those of this tribe. I stated that although I have loyalties to this tribe, I have loyalties to the Andak tribe too.”
“And what does our tribe have to do with them?” asks Mr. Denby.
“Nothing,” replies Tom coldly. “I have seen to that.”
At some point during the proceedings Ralph took my hand into his. Now, as this first round ends, I find myself gazing unseeingly into my lap. Eventually my eyes focus and I see my tight grip making white and red marks on his fingers, I quickly release the pressure and look up at him.
“It’s okay, Deet.” He smiles reassuringly, and turns back to look at Mr. Clark as he begins to sooth Mr. Denby’s ruffled feathers.
It’s then that I see it; an expression of excitement, a light gleaming in his eyes, a thirst for battle. I find myself wondering why he is not in the guard like Jamie. That he could handle it is obvious, that he would excel like his brother, there is little doubt.
He turns my fingers so that the back of my hand is pressed downwards into my lap, and I see angry red marks where my nails have dug into his flesh. I hadn’t known that I had been holding on so tightly.
By now Mr. Dolan has added his voice of complaint to that of Mr. Denby’s, and their angry voices suddenly grow louder. I jump at the unexpected increase of noise.
“He’s Andak, that’s it; it’s over! He has no right to be here, you have no right to let him stay, and I’m going to see that he doesn’t.”
Mr Dolan’s sudden lunge towards Tom is barred by Ralph. In spite of his sturdy frame, he proves to be nimble and quick. In what seems to be one fluid movement, Mr. Dolan has been caught and pinned to the floor.
“That is enough, do you hear me? Enough!”
Jamie stands, addressing the crowd as Ra
lph pulls the unfortunate Mr. Dolan to his feet.
“I’m sick and tired of all you so called men wimping out on your friends just because they’re called by the same name as some people you’re afraid of; it’s embarrassing.”
“It’s more than a matter of fear; there are other considerations that make it necessary for them to go… ” begins Mr. Denby in a pious voice. It makes my flesh creep.
“Yeah, right; keep telling yourself that!” jeers Ralph.
“They may be blinded by your lies,” splutters Mr. Denby, facing Tom angrily, “but I am not. You’re one of them! You never will, nor ever could be, one of us. You aren’t fit to live, and I for one refuse to breathe the same air as you, Andak!”
Horrified by the barrage of abuse being hurled at them, I turn smarting eyes towards the Jepsjons. The children are huddled protectively around Uncle Jep, shrinking from the hate they can see in Mr. Denby's face. Ricky has his arm around Carris as she cries softly, and Uncle Jep has Tarri sobbing on his knee.
I wish they hadn’t been here for this, that we could have protected them from the anger and unpleasantness.
A commotion behind us alerts me to the fact that something is happening. Turning I see that Mr. Green has stood up and is preparing to addressing us all.
“Gentleman, my wife and I have recently lost our daughter to the Andak tribe. As of this moment she could be dead…” Mr. Green breaks off, finding it necessary to swallow several times before he continues. “Despite all of this, we do not hold Tomasz Jep — Andak responsible or culpable in anyway. If we, who surely have the most right to blame and drive out Tomasz and Professor Jepsjon, find it unnecessary and wrong to do so, what right do you have to demand these things in weakness and fear?”
I don’t think I have ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Mr. Denby and Mr. Dolan do then. Mr. Dolan, recalled to himself, sits back on his chair his eyes downcast.
“I withdraw my dissent.” His words are addressed to the floor.
Everyone turns to Mr. Denby, who is struggling with the knowledge that he has made a fool of himself, and that there is a great deal of logic in what Mr. Green has said. Yet I can tell he will not back down. He has too much pride, and he has displayed too much hate and anger for anyone who bears the Andak mark. His silence stretches on for an age.
“If that Andak doesn’t leave, I will.”
There is no movement as his words drop like stones into the silence.
I’ve never understood why people find it so difficult to back down and admit that they are wrong. In admitting fault they retain some of their lost credibility, in refusing to back down they make themselves ridiculous.
“Then you seem to have solved this problem yourself, although I’m sorry that you find it necessary to leave,” answers my father coolly.
I think that Mr. Denby knew that his ultimatum would evoke that answer, because he doesn’t seem surprised at all. Even now he will not concede, but he gets to his feet and subjects the Jepsjons, Tom most especially, to a venomous stare. He turns and addresses the whole tribe with a voice that throbs with rage.
“You’ll regret this, you see if you don’t, and on your heads be it!”
His departure from the room is accompanied by silence and, as the door closes behind him, the gathered company turns nervously back to the tribal Elders.
“It is the Elder’s recommendation that the Jepsjons should stay. Is there anyone who wishes to contest this?” The room is silent for some moments and Mr. Clark continues. “Very well; the Jepsjons will stay. It is also the recommendation of the Elders that Tomasz Andak should retain his post in the Guard and return to his duties. Is there anyone who wishes to contest this?”
Mr. Phillips raises a timid hand.
“Yes, Carl?” invites Mr. Grey.
Mr. Phillips stands, clearing his throat uncertainly.
“I was just wondering if the Guard has any problem with that?” His voice is apologetic.
“The only problem we had was if Tom was leaving; it would have been a severe loss to the tribe,” answers Jamie.
“Just asking.” Mr. Philips seats himself, relieved to have the tribes attention directed elsewhere and away from him.
“It is the decision of this tribunal that Mr. Tomasz Andak and Professor Andres Jepsjon should remain in their current positions, with no mention of this unrest to be made again. All in favour raise your hand. Those not in favour are to stand.”
I hold my breath lest, at this eleventh hour, someone should object.
“The defendants are therefore found not guilty, and this meeting is now adjourned.”
For a moment the abrupt end to proceedings takes us by surprise, and there is deathly quiet. Beside me an ear-splitting whoop rents the air, and Ralph jumps to his feet. A ripple of laughter runs throughout the room as he jerks me out of my chair, and in his exuberance, lifts me off the ground.
For some reason I don’t share his delight. I should feel jubilant, but I’m left with a hollow sensation that I don’t much like. It doesn’t matter whether the tribal Elders say that the Jepsjons may stay, or if no one thinks it right to make them leave. The tribe will always see them as Andak, as outsiders.
I feel a warm arm encircle my waist.
“See, Deeta; I told you that it would all be alright in the end.”
It’s my father’s voice. I turn to see the pleased and relieved smile on his face, and can’t help comparing it with my own less cheerful thoughts.
“Does this mean I can go back to visiting the Jepsjons, Dad?”
“I don’t see why not now that everything is sorted out. In the meantime I think that we should go and congratulate Tom and Professor Jepsjon.”
There is a substantial crowd around Uncle Jep which relieves me. Then I notice that the crowd thins somewhat in Tom’s direction. Those who do move on to talk to him are ill at ease, and only stay for a few moments before making their escape.
“Aunty Deet!”
Carris erupts from the crowd and into my arms, as I pull her towards me I feel her trembling. I experience again a sensation of anger; the children shouldn’t have been subjected to all this upset, especially when they are already traumatised by the loss of Dec.
“Hiya, Carry, did you miss me?” I ask, making my voice much more cheerful than I feel.
Wordlessly she nods her head, before pulling away and wiping a hand across her face.
“Nella burnt the porridge.” Her voice breaks huskily.
“Oh, I see; cupboard love is it?” I laugh. “Well I guess if that’s as good as I’m going to get, I’ll take it.”
I put my arm around her shoulders, and move to where a slight lee in the crowd of people makes it possible for me to talk to Uncle Jep.
“Deetina, my cherished one.”
His smile is tired but welcoming as I bend to kiss his cheek.
“Hello, Uncle Jep, did you miss my cooking too?” I ask, trying to swallow an uncomfortable lump in my throat.
“Ah, so Carris has informed you of our little mishap has she? Have no worries, Deetina, it was soon rectified.”
“Uncle Tom told Nell he was damned if he’d let her in his kitchen again,” confirms Tarri in a lazy voice before placing her finger back in her mouth.
“And since then Uncle Tom has done the cooking,” interposes Carris quickly. “Aunty Deet, perhaps you could tell Uncle Tom that mashed potato isn’t supposed to be lumpy.”
“Silence, my sweets; Mr. Richards will think that we are bringing you up to be heathen,” reprimands Uncle Jep.
“Their conversation is charmingly frank.”
“Frank? You put it so delicately; Tom says that they always seem to ‘drop us in it’,” sighs Uncle Jep.
As my father and the Professor continue to talk, I move on to where Tom is standing conversing with Ralph, Jamie, and Nella. As I approach Nella takes my arm and draws me into their comfy little circle. I can’t help but notice that, as I join them, Tom’s relaxed stance be
comes tense.
“Hi, Tom.”
“Hello, Deeta.” His voice is careful and controlled. “Not so vocal tonight.”
If he had hit me he couldn’t have hurt me more; should I have said something? Tom obviously sees my silence as disloyalty, I feel terrible. Tom makes a slight, involuntary movement toward me that is instantly suppressed.
“My opinion only made things worse last time, didn’t it?”
“Not the right place for you to have voiced an opinion, Deeta. It would only have set peoples backs up, and then Ralph would have been halting Mr. Denby's mad rush at you.” There is a slight smile in Jamie’s voice.
I cast him a sharp glance and see in his eyes sympathy and reassurance.
Can it be that I’m mistaken in Jamie Clark?
Is it possible that he has seen what Ralph and Nella have not seen, and understood Tom’s quip in the way that it was truly meant?
This whole tribunal must have been awful for him. He had to spend so much time, time that he must have viewed as wasted, helping to sort this out. Yet all the time his girlfriend is being held prisoner to some other tribe. In his heart what he must have wanted to do is get out there and find her. His forbearance has been more than praiseworthy.
It’s strange how my perception of him has changed, has been changing ever since the night of the party when I had danced with him. He is, I realise, so much more than the brash braggart I have always taken him for. He has depth of character that I would never have guessed at in a million years.
I look around the room. It seems everyone is afraid to leave, they huddle together in small groups, whispering and shooting sidelong glances in our direction.
“Earth to Deeta?” Ralph waves a hand in front of my face. “Penny for them?”
I don’t think I could explain my thoughts to any one just now, I hardly understand them myself.
“I was just thinking that if there isn’t some sort of announcement to go home, we might all stay up here forever out of politeness. Think how awkward it’s going to be after the usual pleasantries have been exhausted.”
“Well I’m glad of one thing.” Nella smiles at me. “Now that everything’s sorted you can have your job back. Don’t get me wrong; I love the kids, but if they tell me that Aunty Deet doesn’t do it that way just one more time, I will not be held responsible for the consequences!”
My heart begins to beat uncomfortably fast, and I resist the impulse to look at Tom.
“Poor Nell, you must have been fit to murder me.”
“I can’t deny that the thought crossed my mind.”
“So what happens now?” asks Ralph.
“Now we go home.” My father’s voice answers from behind me, and I jump visibly. “Some of us are a little stressed and need to relax. I hope you sleep better tonight lad,” he continues holding a hand out to Tom.
“I hope so too, sir. If you don’t mind, I’d like a private word with you tonight if it’s convenient.”
My father seems a little surprised, but he smiles and readily agrees.