White Dog Fell from the Sky

7



Alice found Isaac outside the door at quarter past six that morning. He was sitting next to his dog with his back propped up against the half dead tree that held the nest of the crested barbet. “Do you know what time it is?” she asked.

“No, mma.”

“It’s very early. Are you in trouble?”

“No, mma.”

“You have a place to go at night?”

“Ee.”

“Far from here?”

“In Naledi.”

“How long does it take you to walk?”

“I don’t know, madam … mma.”

“We have a bicycle we’re not using. Why don’t you ride it back and forth? It would be easier, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but what if something should happen to it?”

“Nothing will happen to it.”

“Ke a leboga, mma,” he thanked her. “I have an idea for the garden. Shall I tell you now?”

He began to talk, striding behind the house. “Here,” he said, “I will clear the ground so that the new fruit trees will have more light. Soon—maybe by next year or the year after—they will give you oranges and lemons and nartjes. And here I will plant a white bougainvillea to stretch up into the syringa trees so when the trees are not flowering, the bougainvillea will bring light to the darkest part of the garden. Here,” he said, “I will plant coral creeper. The flowers have no smell but they are such a beautiful color, they will make your heart sing. And here,” he skirted a hole, “I will block this opening and find the exit, so you need not fear snakes any longer. And there is another hole over there.”

“Those are snake holes?”

“Ee. I haven’t seen them. But never come out here in the darkness, mma, without a flashlight. If you get a cat, they will rid the garden of small snakes.”

“My husband is allergic to cats.”

“The cat can live outside.”

“Cats hunt snakes?”

“Yes, madam … Not madam. You are not madam.” He smiled. “They hunt the young snakes and kill them before they grow large.”

He walked to the rear of the house, about three paces in front of her. “With your permission, I wish to leave the aloes, even though they are untidy. The birds have made several nests. See? Here and here? These aloes have been growing for many years. They are keeping history.” He was thinking that the new part of Gaborone had no history, only bulldozers and more houses every day. “It is good for people to remember what Africa once was …”

“Before Europeans turned up?”

“I didn’t mean that. Most especially I did not mean to say it to you.”

“Let me tell you something, Isaac. If you offend me, I’ll tell you. And if I offend you, you can tell me.”

He was quiet a moment. His eyes went still as stones. Never, his face said.

She glanced at him and thought, Why would he trust me? “Never mind.”

“I beg your pardon, mma?” She didn’t answer.

He led the way to the barren side of the house, where the almost dead tree stood. “The crested barbets live here. With your permission, I will trim the dead parts here and here and put animal manure around the base. Perhaps it will grow stronger.”

She wanted to say, “Do whatever you like.” She knew nothing about supervising. The very idea of a gardener was appalling. Why should she be a madam and he be asking her permission every time he turned around?

“Here,” he said, “I would like to dig a large hole, at least two meters down.”

“A hole?”

“A sunken garden where you and your husband can sit.” He moved about ten feet away, and made an oval with his arms. “At the bottom will be flat rocks. On the sides, bigger rocks and many plants. Sometimes they will bloom, sometimes they will be quiet, with just their leaves. And I’ll plant trees all around. There are rocks near the dam if you can drive me there.”

“And the plants?”

“An old man will give some to me.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

“Yes. You would pay me the same whether I do a lot or a little work. If I just wander around and splash a little water here and there, the day will go by so slowly, I’ll fall asleep under a tree, and you’ll fire me.”

She laughed. He was a handsome man with an open, intelligent face. She wondered what his story was, whether she’d ever know. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No, I have not.”

“How do you plan to work without eating? I’ll ask Itumeleng to give you porridge in the mornings. And food for your dog. And you don’t need to work tomorrow or Sunday.”

“I wish to work all seven days.”

“I’ll pay you the same amount.”

“You cannot pay me for the days I’m not working.” He was quiet a moment, looking at the ground. “If I work seven days a week, I earn thirty rand a month. If I work five days a week, I will earn twenty-three rand a month.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Five over seven is equal to the unknown divided by thirty. Therefore, seven times the unknown equals one-fifty. One-fifty divided by seven equals a little less than twenty-three rand.” He stopped, realizing he’d said too much.

“You never worked in a garden before, did you?”

He hesitated. “No, mma.”

“How far did you go in school?”

“I completed university. Before I came here, I was in fact in my first year of medical school.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“If I had told you, you would not have hired me. I have no papers. I came with nothing. Only the clothes on my back. You are angry?”

“No.”

“It was necessary to leave for political reasons.”

“You don’t need to say anything more. I don’t need to know. I don’t want to know.”

“Thank you, mma. I will come Saturdays to water the trees. Two days is too long for them to go without water.”

“Well, then, Sunday and Tuesdays are holidays. You will have two days off each week, and you’ll be paid thirty rand for five days.”

“Yes, madam.”

“And don’t come on Tuesday. And please don’t call me madam.”

He smiled, put both hands together, and bowed slightly. “I understand, mma.”

“Can I ask you how old you are?”

“Twenty-seven years old, madam. I worked three years before I attended university. My mother’s employers helped me go to university and then medical school. I was very lucky.”

Lucky? How could he say such a thing?

He went to the faucet and turned on the hose.