Mercy- Part 3

 Chapter 2

I hate the way this is turning out. I mean it. Do someone a favour and they grow wings. They begin to think that they own you. That is the problem with this world. They do not see what someone has done for them. That little fool is going to ruin things for me if I am not careful. How hard is it to follow instructions? It makes me sick!

‘Taffy, I have to have two more girls in the next two weeks. They need to be at the auction so pick the best ones. Preferably the new one. She is popular among the clients.’

‘Jim darling you know that is not a problem. I will make sure they bring the perfect return.’

‘Of course you never disappoint.’

‘Have you handled the other problem?’

‘It is no longer a problem. As we speak, Gege has gone to the village to get a new girl again – you know, to replace the other one.’

‘As long as you keep Gege on a leash. She has been looking a bit shifty lately – you know – distracted.’ Jim strokes my hair and lifts my chin up to kiss him. This man is so much better than Big Jim. So much better. His whisky breath tantalises me. I flirt with the thought of taking advantage of him but decide against it. My needs will just have to wait. There is more pressing work to be done. Do you see what I was telling you about this woman? I will get to the bottom of it.

‘Jim, she is not a concern. She has just been overwhelmed. I will see to it that she does not ruin the operation.’

‘That is my girl. Jim loves you.’

‘I love Jim.’

Some might think I do not think about others. That I have no compassion or empathy for others. It is true but this maks only slips when I let someone too close. I do not need Jim emotionally nor do I fear taking risks – necessary risks – to propel my ambition. I have one life only anything else is secondary to my existence. Floundering with emotions and the like, leaves you in unwarranted destiny. Living a life that you were never designed for but mere mortals. Mine is of a higher calling. I am the best at what I do and perhaps even breath better than most folks. Too many wander this earth, envying the life of the next person or lamenting about where their lives went wrong. Call me a dark angel – I simply use this information to help them help me. If you do not want your life, I might as well use it. How you respond to it is not my problem.

Bloody Gege is too sensitive. I just have to keep her from the can of worms that is bound to pop open soon and let its foul contents out. I think it is a beautiful tragedy. No doubt she won’t feel the same way. I watch Jim leave out the driveway. Taffy you are heartless she often whines. I have a good mind to send her back to Big John.

The smell of scotch whisky beckons to me. Pouring myself a generous amount, I gulp the horrid drink in one helping. It scorches my throat in bitter episodes the flows warmly down to its destination. My eyes grimace in contention chastising my rebellious body for exposing them to such anguish.  

Slowly, I allow my no slumbering legs to march down the lengthy hallway and up the stairs to the hallway of doom. The pungent scent of vomit still hung resonantly in the air claiming its new domain. This fatal flaw has set us back three days. I told Gege not to get tiny little girls but that crack is always in a world of her own.

Mercy’s room is quiet. Apart from the noise of the ghost next door, nothing else stirs. If I had half the emotions of anxiety or concern that others encounter, I would think she has harmed herself but she is not like that. She is stronger. More determined, like me to succeed even though our ambitions may be different. Her face constantly haunts me reminding me of days gone by. Reminding me of the day my mother killed herself because she could not stand the whining of my baby brother. He had been crying all night long. Nothing she did was good enough. He just carried on bawling, robbing me and mother of my sleep. What else could I do? When she went downstairs, I took the pills that I knew she used to help her sleep. I gave him a couple. Then a couple more. I was six years old at the time, but I knew it would kill him. My mother had told me several times not to take any of the pills. She warned me that if you took too many, you would never wake up.

I took the pills and gave them to the crying noisy bundle. When mum came upstairs, she found me holding the bottle of pills. She looked at the cot and knew instantly why the baby was not making a sound. Now had I been my mother, I would have made me drink the pills and save myself but how would that have looked to her neighbours? They would have queried how two young children got hold of that many pills wouldn’t they? So instead, in between sobs and cussing my soul into eternal damnation, I watched my mother sleep with her baby.

I woke the next morning and neither of them stirred. I let the maid find them. Neighbours had flooded our small house in Mbare that day, crying at the top of their voices. Some sung hymns whilst crying. Others tried to hid their awkwardness by hugging and comforting my soulless being. Why could I not cry like the rest of them? A woman I had known since I was a child sobbed relentlessly.

‘Mwari what am I going to do? How can you take Chiedza just like that? In the night Mwari wangu?’ she cried out on her knees to her God, questioning him on how she was now going to look after me. I had no father, she cried. ‘What will I do with my friends child my God?’ I never understood why she took it upon herself to take responsibility for me. The little cotton Zambia that was laid on the floor for her comfort, rolled in folds the more distressed she became. My head was flung to and fro with her ardent movements. I just wanted the whole travesty to halt. It was driving me mad. Yet no tears fell from my solid eyes.

Less than a month later, I had been brought to Zambia with her brother and his wife in domestic servitude until I landed in the gracious arms of Big John. Among the haze of ganja and prostitution, I found my calling – and a chained redemption.

So yes. When I look at Mercy, I see the little girl I once was. I also see the monster that she could become. Perfect in this business.