They all sat down together, and after the introductions, the group of men and women, drinks in hand, shared laughs and cigarettes. Some of their names were simple, like that of a pretty girl with her hair done up in tiny braids called Melania, who insisted that Iniko sit beside her. But it was difficult to memorize the names of the other two women—Rihéka, small and round, and B?rihí, tall and muscled like an athlete, with very short hair—and of the other man in the group, a young man named K?pé.
At first, Clarence felt inhibited, although the company of the brothers gave her a sense of security. Every now and then, one or the other got up to dance, but she preferred to remain sitting down close to Laha, who admitted he was not a good dancer, and close to the drinks—which did nothing to alleviate the heat—moving her feet timidly to the repetitive and lively beat of the music. She watched the other dancers on the floor and asked herself how in hell they could move as they did. It was crazy.
She gave most of her attention to Iniko, who, to her amazement, was shaking every kilo of his muscles in front of Melania with the same grace as if he were made of feathers. His shoulders, slightly hunched, and his hips swung, following the rhythm as if it flowed through the tips of his fingers and toes. Now and again, he closed his eyes and smiled. The music changed. Melania returned to the table, but he stayed out on the floor.
Clarence could not take her eyes off him as Iniko turned and hit her with a defiant stare. He raised his hand and signaled her to come up onto the dance floor. She waved at him to reject his offer. It was obvious that her comments in Bisila’s house were without foundation. Iniko shrugged and continued dancing more suggestively than ever. Clarence suddenly regretted not accepting the challenge. She finished her drink in one gulp and strode over to him.
Iniko smiled and copied her rigid and brusque European moves until she turned to leave. He grabbed her by the wrist and leaned down.
“Don’t you want to learn? I’m an expert.”
Iniko brought Clarence close, put his arm around her, and signaled for her to let him lead, to relax and loosen up, and to let her mind go blank. Wherever she looked, the mirrors that surrounded her began to reflect the exciting image of a woman surrendering to the invisible strings of a man who radiated heat.
Clarence closed her eyes and tried to forget everything, her fears, her worries, Pasolobino and Sampaka, the reason for her trip, her past, and her future. The only thought she allowed herself was the one that repeated to her over and over again—that her body had been screaming for the closeness of a man like this for ages.
The music stopped. Clarence opened her eyes and found Iniko’s face just a few centimeters from hers. For the first time since their meeting in Sampaka, he seemed to be looking at her with curiosity. Maybe, like her, he felt a little disoriented by their dance.
“Happy with your student?” she finally asked.
“Not bad,” he replied. “But it’s a little early to make an assessment.”
I wouldn’t mind repeating the exam one bit, she thought.
“It has been years since I last felt so tired!” Clarence protested, and the rest laughed.
She had just finished dinner with her new friends in a restaurant with colored oilcloths on the tables and tiled walls that offered a curious mix of Spanish, Italian, and American food. Every afternoon, one plan or another came up that went on till the early hours.
Clarence wondered how they could stand this pace and continue working. The attractive but difficult Melania worked as the concierge in the Cultural Institute of French Expression; the small Rihéka had a Bubi arts stall in the Malabo market; the friendly K?pé was in charge of maintenance at the power facilities; and the athletic B?rihí, who had just left, worked in the offices of a construction company.
“The only one with a bit of common sense is B?rihí,” she added. “The rest of you will end up being fired. You first, Laha. Don’t you work with dangerous materials?”
She thought about continuing the joke when Melania pointed to something outside. Everyone turned to look.
Several dark cars signaled the beginning of a large official cavalcade escorted by police on motorbikes. As it passed, numerous people thronged the streets to have a peek. The majority were natives, although one or two Westerners could also be spotted. On the other side of the street, a white woman began to take photos. When the cavalcade had passed, another dark car stopped in front of the woman, and two men forcibly took her camera, then pushed her against the car and searched her. From the restaurant, they saw the woman shouting and crying.
“But what are they doing?” Clarence jumped to her feet.
Iniko took her arm and made her sit down.
“Are you crazy? Please just don’t say a word!” he hissed. Melania put her arm around his shoulder and stroked him.
Clarence angrily pressed her lips together and looked at Laha.
“No, Clarence,” he said, shaking his head. “Today nothing can be done.”
“But . . . !”
“You have heard Iniko.” His tone was hard this time. “It would be best to shut up.”
Clarence saw with horror how the men handcuffed the woman and put her into the car and sped away.
“And what happens to her now?” she asked in a whisper.
No one answered.
“How about leaving now?” Rihéka asked, with worry reflected on her round face.
“Better not. It would be too obvious,” suggested K?pé quietly. “At the back, on the right, behind me, there are . . . spectators. Don’t look. Just talk normally.”
“Do they look like antorchones?” asked Rihéka.
“And what’s that?” Clarence asked.
“Young spies controlled by the party,” explained Tomás.
“I don’t think so,” said K?pé, “but just in case . . .”
Tomás began to tell a stupid joke, and the others let out forced laughs. Clarence took the opportunity to glance at the strange couple at the back table. The woman was a plump old woman with a big, flaccid chest and completely white hair. She had on too much makeup and was dripping in jewels. In front of her, and with his back to Clarence, sat a thin and bony mulatto much younger than she.
“The woman hasn’t stopped looking at us,” she said.
“I’m not surprised,” said Melania, irritated. “A bit more and we would all have been arrested because of you.”
“But why?” Clarence protested.
Of all the group, Melania was the one she liked the least. She never missed the chance to have a go at Clarence. Iniko had been friendly of late, but when Melania was around and pestered him with loving gestures, he became brooding again. She looked at Laha, and he gave her a slight nod.
“You have to be careful, Clarence,” said Laha in a friendly voice. “Here things don’t work like they do in Spain or the United States.”
“Anyone can accuse you of being against the regime,” Tomás agreed in a low voice. “Anyone . . .”
Clarence took a quick breath. For a minute she had forgotten what country she was in.
“I’m very sorry,” she apologized.
K?pé got up to ask for another round of the popular 33 beer. When he sat down again, he commented, “I think we can relax. Don’t you know who the woman is?”
Tomás and Iniko both sneaked glances and smiled. “Ah, yes, the very one.”
“Do you know her?” Clarence wanted to know.