Page 39 of A Column of Fire
Barney saw that Aunt Betsy was looking alarmed. Clearly she was scared of Sancho and worried that Carlos was antagonizing him.
Carlos saw her look and forced a more amiable tone of voice. ‘But I thank you for the courtesy of your proposal, neighbour Sancho.’ It was a good try but it did not sound sincere.
Sancho dropped the façade. ‘You may regret this, Carlos.’
Carlos’s voice became disdainful. ‘Why would you say a thing like that, Sancho? It almost sounds like a threat.’
Sancho did not confirm or deny that. ‘If business turns bad, you will end up wishing you had taken my money.’
‘I will run that risk. And now I have work to do. The king’s armourer needs iron.’
Sancho looked furious at being dismissed. He got to his feet.
Aunt Betsy said: ‘I hope you enjoyed the wine, Señor – it’s our best.’
Sancho did not trouble to reply to such a routine remark from a mere woman. He said to Carlos: ‘We’ll talk again soon.’
Barney could see Carlos suppressing a sarcastic retort as he responded with a silent nod.
Sancho was turning to leave when he caught sight of the new furnace. ‘What’s this?’ he said. ‘Another furnace?’
‘My old furnace is due for replacement.’ Carlos stood up. ‘Thank you for calling on me, Sancho.’
Sancho did not move. ‘Your old furnace looks perfectly all right to me.’
‘When the new one is ready, the old one will be demolished. I know the rules as well as you do. Goodbye.’
‘The new one looks peculiar,’ Sancho persisted.
Carlos allowed his irritation to show. ‘I’m making some improvements on the traditional design. There’s no corporation rule against that.’
‘Keep your temper, son, I’m simply asking you questions.’
‘And I’m simply saying goodbye.’
Sancho did not even bristle at Carlos’s rudeness. He continued to stare at the new furnace for a full minute. Then he turned and left. His two bodyguards followed him. Neither had spoken a word the whole time.
When Sancho was out of earshot, Aunt Betsy said: ‘He’s a bad man to have as an enemy.’
‘I know,’ said Carlos.
*
THAT NIGHTEBRIMAslept with Carlos’s grandmother.
On the men’s side of the house, Carlos and Barney had beds on the upstairs floor, while Ebrima slept on a mattress on the ground floor. Tonight Ebrima lay awake for half an hour, until he was quite sure the house was silent; then he got up and padded across the courtyard to Elisa’s side. He slid into bed beside her and they made love.
She was an ugly old white woman, but it was dark, and her body was soft and warm. More importantly, she had always been kind to Ebrima. He did not love her, and never would, but it was no hardship to give her what she wanted.
Afterwards, as Elisa dozed off, Ebrima lay awake and remembered the first time.
He had been brought to Seville on a slave ship and sold to Carlos’s father ten years ago. He was solitary and homesick and in despair. One Sunday, when everyone else was at church, Carlos’s grandmother, whom Barney called Aunt Betsy and Ebrima called Elisa, had come upon him weeping in desolation. To his astonishment she had kissed his tears and pressed his face to her soft breasts, and in his yearning for human affection he had made love to her hungrily.
He realized that Elisa was using him. She could end the relationship any time she pleased, but he could not. However, she was the only human being he could hold in his arms. For a decade of lonely exile she had given him solace.
When she began to snore he returned to his own bed.
Each night, before going to sleep, Ebrima thought about freedom. He imagined himself in a house he owned, with a woman who was his wife, and perhaps some children too. In the vision he had money in his pocket that he had earned by his work, and he wore clothes he had chosen himself and paid for, not hand-me-downs. He left the house when he wanted to, and came back when he pleased, and no one could flog him for it. He always hoped he would go to sleep and dream this vision, and sometimes he did.
