“Who doesn’t know Mamá Sade?” Tomás rolled his eyes.
“No!” Laha half shut his eyes. “She’s gotten much older since the last time I saw her.”
“I thought she didn’t leave her house anymore,” commented Melania.
“And I thought she was dead!” Rihéka laughed.
Clarence was dying with curiosity.
“For us, Mamá Sade is like a ceiba,” Laha began to explain. “She’s always been there, at least from the colonial times of our childhood. Legend says that she began work as a . . . well, with her body. She was so beautiful that everybody fought over her. She made a lot of money and invested it in one club and then another until there was no successful nightspot in the city that was not managed by her.”
He took a sip of his beer, and Tomás added, “And she continued making money under Macías. A mystery. They said only she knew how to please the tastes of the important men. And she hired the best girls . . .”
“And the man who is with her?” Clarence asked.
“Her son,” K?pé answered. “He now runs the business.”
“He looks mulatto.” Clarence lifted the bottle of beer to her lips without taking her eyes off the couple.
“He is.” Rihéka leaned forward and adopted a confidential tone. “The story goes that she fell in love with a white man who worked on the plantations. He got her pregnant and left her.” Clarence went red in the face and began to cough. Rihéka gave her some pats on the back. “After that, she didn’t want any more children.”
“I would have had dozens,” Melania commented vengefully. “That only child must have been a daily reminder of his cowardly father.”
Clarence’s heart began beating rapidly. She almost wanted to walk over to the table to see the face of Mamá Sade’s child. Idiotic! And what would she do? Innocently ask him if his name was Fernando? Rihéka was right. Her story was probably that of many other women. Beside her, she noticed that Laha had strangled his bottle of beer with his hands. He had a frown on his face. He was the only one of the group whose skin was not completely black.
Laha got up and said he had to relieve himself. Clarence turned again to look at the table at the back.
“And if you think that she’s not dangerous, why is she continuing to look at us?”
“She seems to be looking at you,” said Iniko with a teasing smile. “Maybe she’ll ask you to work for her. Mamá Sade has always had a good eye . . .”
Clarence blushed. “Ha!” she answered, tilting her head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Everyone laughed except Melania, who made a face.
“And do you know the son’s name, by any chance?” Clarence immediately regretted asking the question out loud.
“And what does it matter to you what his name is?” Melania wanted to know, gluing her body to that of Iniko. “Ah well! That’s right! Now he’s running the business!” More laughing ensued, and Melania went on. “A white woman would give him prestige, although it appears to me that the white women aren’t as hot-blooded as us blacks.”
Clarence struck her down with a look. Tomás, K?pé, and Iniko hid their smiles behind their bottles as Rihéka told Melania to hush.
Iniko decided to redirect the conversation. “Clarence is interested in the names of the children born in the colonial period,” he said, leaning back in his chair and allowing his right arm to pass around the back of Melania’s body. “It’s for her studies. She publishes research papers.”
Clarence looked at him in surprise. It seemed that Iniko had been paying more attention to her than she thought. Melania shrugged and moved closer to the man.
Clarence was surprised by a touch of envy. A little more and you’ll be sitting on him.
“Well, in that we will be able to help you,” said Tomás. “Now you can take out that notebook that you bring everywhere.”
Tomás began to go over the names of all the people he knew, from their family members to neighbors and friends. The others copied him. Clarence used this brief respite to analyze why she was irritated. Was it possible that she felt . . . jealous? Of Melania? Over this strong man who was reserved and mistrustful? It was ridiculous. But why did she not stop giving them looks to see if Iniko responded to Melania’s attentions? To her relief, he did not. Iniko did not seem to be one of those men who expressed his feelings openly, but it was clear that if he did not move away from Melania, it was because he was happy to be beside her. Melania was very pretty, had personality, was Bubi, and lived in Bioko. The perfect combination. Clarence held back a sigh.
“When you publish your research,” K?pé said, handing her the notebook, “you’ll have to send us a copy.”
Clarence took a glance at the lists. In a couple of minutes, they had written down over a hundred names. She felt a little guilty for tricking them. She was not used to lying, and since she had arrived in Guinea she had not done anything else. She would never write that article. She was only interested in finding this Fernando.
Laha came in and stood beside the table.
“Should we go somewhere else now?” he suggested. “How about our favorite club?”
“But you said you don’t like dancing.” Clarence laughed as they got up.
She noticed that Mamá Sade and her son were walking toward them. She straggled behind in order to get a good look at the couple. Compared to his hefty mother, the man was thin and bony. She could finally see his face. Individually, his features were nice. He had dark almond-shaped eyes, a thin nose and lips, and a dimpled chin. But altogether, his expression was cold and slightly disagreeable. She felt a shudder.
“Is there a problem, white woman?” The man stared at her. “Don’t you like what you see?”
“No, sorry, I . . .” Someone took her arm, and Iniko said, “Shall we go, Clarence?”
“You, Bubi! Tell your girlfriend to learn some manners,” the thin man said with disdain. Iniko tensed. “I don’t like people to look at me like that.”
Beside him, Mamá Sade began to say in a bossy voice, “Don’t waste your time . . .” She looked up at Clarence, frowned, and let out a harsh, throaty sound. She pushed her son to one side and moved in front of her. Despite her age, she was still a tall woman. She raised a wrinkled hand toward the young woman’s face and, without touching it, went over her features, from her forehead to her chin. Clarence took a step backward, and Iniko pulled her toward the door.
“Wait!” growled Mamá Sade from a toothless mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you!”
Clarence stopped.
Mamá Sade inspected her again, muttering incomprehensible phrases. She alternated between nodding and laughing insanely. When she was satisfied, she shook her head.
“And so?” asked Clarence, irritated, but also intrigued by the situation.
“You reminded me of someone.”