Title: Ivory and Bronze
Author: Kassfinol
All rights reserved
Registered: Safe Creative 2005234090788
Published: 2020 or 2021, I don’t remember :V
Genre: Dramatic romance with social awareness
Life is full of duality, of balance, of compensations. I’m convinced of that, since I recently got to experience how, from bad news, I was dragged toward the most beautiful and sincere thing that has happened to me in existence.
This is the story of how I fell in love.
Chapter 1
Secrets always fuck up relationships, never doubt that.
That was the main problem in the relationship I had with my father. For years each of us lived our own way; we limited ourselves to a few calls a year, and we saw each other very little. Once every two or three years. I don’t know, I didn’t keep count. We were never that close; he lived for his businesses and I grew up alone, with a bunch of servants who took care of me in his absence, and without a mother, because she died giving birth to me.
Nowadays, he lived in Ciudad del Este, and I in Asunción. It was better that way, each of us on our own. Something told me that the more I knew about his situation, the less I’d like it or feel comfortable, so I concentrated on my personal life and sustained my existence in the best way I could, working and focusing on my clients.
But my peace ended when I received his call. The phone rang several times, and I wanted to let it go to voicemail, but after a long while, I noticed he was very insistent, so I decided to answer.
“Hi son, it’s me, your dad.”
His voice sounded dull; I didn’t remember it being like that. Could he be sick?
“Hi Juan” —I corrected myself—, “Dad, is something wrong? Why do you sound like that?”
“That’s a lot of questions, and I don’t think it’s good to tell you over this medium; would you be so kind as to come to your old home, to your house?”
He never asked me that, so if he did, it was for a very weighty reason.
“I can go on the weekend; today is Thursday and I’m doing the accounting for some clients; I don’t have time to drive five hours to talk to you, I’m sorry.” —the sense of responsibility I hadn’t inherited from him, that was clear.
“Son, very few times have I asked you for favors; it’s necessary that you be here; I have to give you important news, and even my lawyer needs your presence.”
The worst part is him calling me to serve as his alibi, or to cover for him for some badly done behavior. Will he ever change?
“I’m not willing to let you get me into trouble; I have responsibilities here; I need you to respect my decision. This is something I don’t plan to discuss with you.”
“All right, I’ll wait for you; it’s only fair. When can you come?”
I didn’t expect that answer; whenever he wanted something, he was very insistent; giving me the option to choose was very strange.
“On Friday night I can take a plane and arrive at a good time to talk, but I’d appreciate it if you stay sober for that moment; I don’t want to talk to you while you’re drunk.”
I heard a low laugh.
I had to make that clear; the last times I saw him, he drank without control and didn’t spare me from making me feel miserable for distancing myself from his life; in the end, I was always the guilty one, and he never missed a chance to throw it in my face, but he couldn’t blame me for wanting to live a calmer, more centered life; I was never interested in his money, and as soon as I grew up, I always concentrated on living experiences and avoiding doing stupid things.
“All right, son, you won’t keep me waiting long; that sounds good to me. So tomorrow we’ll meet at eight at night and talk; until then.”
He didn’t wait for me to say goodbye. He just hung up.
And rudeness doesn’t leave him either —I thought. I stayed a while thinking about the situation, and for a moment I felt like taking a plane and going to see what he wanted. But it was better to finish my work and face that problem tomorrow, because it was clear: talking to my father always brought me a problem.
Chapter 2
As soon as I arrived at my father’s house, I realized two things.
The place didn’t look like it had had a party, a strange situation, because there always was one, and the second thing I noticed is that my father was nowhere to be found.
“Hellooo, is anyone here? The door was open.”
“Yeees” —I heard in the distance. Immediately a woman appeared in front of me, dressed as a nurse. I rolled my eyes.
What nerve, to summon me at a certain time and be fucking and fulfilling a sexual fantasy with a woman on duty. He doesn’t change his habits.
“Could you follow me, please? Your father is waiting for you?” —she pulled me out of my thoughts, and I immediately frowned at her suggestion.
“No, miss, I’d rather wait for him here; tell him I’ve arrived, please.”
She gave me a smile.
“No, young man, David?” —she hesitated—, “David, is that your name, right?” —I nodded— “It’s not what you think; your father is in bed and waiting for you.”
And that’s when worry invaded me.
It’s not that I didn’t love my father; we were very different, and I let him be, so each of us had our own world and way of living.
I went to his room, and once there, the one I assumed was a real nurse left us alone.
“Ohhh, you came; how glad I am to see you” —his voice was hoarser than normal. Low, without strength.
“What’s happened to you? Were you shot? What did you get into? How come you didn’t tell me anything before?” —I said the questions and fell silent all at once; this kind of worry was hard to control. One thing was worrying about some bad behavior; that was always tied to shame and sometimes even anger, but feeling pure anguish was different.
“Do you want the short story or the long one?”
“Don’t start; tell me, damn it! What’s happened to you?”
“Liver cirrhosis, and I have about a month to live.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” —I didn’t believe his words.
“But I thought it would take a weight off your shoulders” —he smiled and let me see his wide smile. How is it that someone who’s only sixty can look like that? His skin looked whiter than usual, and his brown eyes almost lifeless.
I didn’t answer him; I was processing the situation. I was in shock.
“With your fine face, and that short, tangled hair and intense brown eyes… tied to that worried face, I could swear I see your mother. You look so much like her.”
Every time he compared me to her, it was like a hard blow to the stomach; he and his servants always reminded me; a pity I never got to enjoy her.
How could I feel good if I carry the shadow that I caused her death? She died giving birth to me, and it’s something my father never forgave me for, and it was the cause of our bad family relationship… I think he never recovered from that loss, and that’s why I don’t blame him for his life of excess and stupidity.
“Do you really have a month to live, or are you just exaggerating?” —coming from him, I had to be sure.
“I’m only exaggerating; I have about five or six months left; it all depends on how much I take care of myself” —he smiled and winked.
Son of a bitch, how could someone like that amass such a fortune. He doesn’t even respect himself.
“You should have called me in five months, and you’d have saved me months of discomfort” —I answered him with sarcasm, and he started laughing. I followed him.
“I called you at just the right moment; will you come with me to my house in Africa? I’ll only steal a few weeks of your life, and I assure you I’ll never fuck with you again… I’m going to die, you see” —and he smiled again; he was too cynical— “Don’t tell me no; it’s my last wish.”
And that’s how he forces me to say yes —I complained.
“Over there you have your businesses, as far as I know” —I passed my hands over my face twice—, “has the time come for me to take charge of all your liquor stores and bars in Cape Town?” —just asking made my stomach churn.
“I’ve made many mistakes in my life; I just want to share with you and nothing else. I can’t take care of the businesses, it’s true, but that’ll be the second reason; the first would be to smooth things over.”
A lie; he’s plotting something —I narrowed my eyes and stayed silent. I knew he was scheming something, but if I denied him those weeks of living together, remorse might torment me for the rest of my remaining life.
So I accepted, without knowing my life would never be the same again.
Chapter 3
My father was in quite bad health, worse than he imagined, so making a trip to South Africa, to beautiful Cape Town, got a bit complicated for us, but with all the millions involved, it wasn’t a problem to avoid the fact that he had to stay in bed.
It was my first time here, in this city; all of Dad’s businesses had always been a taboo subject; we never talked about it; there was a time when he answered what was necessary, until one day, he said nothing more and behaved evasively about the subject. So I stopped insisting.
Being in this city, without knowing what my real circumstances were, had me anxious, not to say worried.
The car stopped in front of a house that seemed to have maximum security; I assumed the driver had gotten lost and we hadn’t arrived at the place.
“Did we get lost?” —I asked my dad; the driver didn’t speak Spanish; my father had told me the people who worked for him used technology to communicate and that they only spoke their language, Zulu. We were alone; his nurse stayed in Paraguay, and as far as I knew, another one awaited him here.
“No, this is it; this is my house. Your house, truth be told, as soon as I die, so it will be.”
“I know you’re going to die; drop the drama, Dad” —he started laughing, although at the fact he made a face of pain.
It was clear the painkiller and the effort of so many hours of flight were taking their toll on him.
“May everything be lacking except sarcasm between the two of us” —he mocked. While he watched the big gate open to let us in.
“Mhm” —I murmured while trying to analyze what kind of drug my dad sold to have this fortune.
The house had two floors, with big windows, with a staircase in front leading to the main door and on each side a beautiful garden.
“I don’t think it’ll be good for you to climb so many stairs” —I joked with half a smile. As soon as the car stopped in front of the main door.
“Between the driver and my other employee, they’ll help me up; keep your distance from everyone. They don’t speak Spanish and they’re not used to socializing. I don’t want problems or inconveniences.”
And when I’m the owner of the house, what am I supposed to do? Change the staff for one that does speak Spanish and wants to socialize with the owner? They have to know me; that’s logical. What kind of rule is that? —I analyzed, uncomfortable and annoyed by his suggestion.
We got out of the car, and from inside the house came a tall, burly man, with very dark skin and green eyes; his features were thick, characteristic of his race. To my surprise, he held out his hand to me and said:
“Hello, you must be Mr. Saba’s son; I’m Ismat” —his voice was very kind; it surprised me that he knew how to speak Spanish— “I’ve worked for your father for twenty-one years; how glad I am to meet you.”
It would be very hard to guess his age, because he looked like someone who took care of his physique, but he must have been younger than my father by a couple of decades; I don’t think Dad put him to work at fifteen or ten years old.
“Less talk and more work. Take me to my room, and then send me a tereré; I’m already feeling hot; I need to rest” —my father complained, and it seemed like a rude act on his part; to my surprise, the big man got scared and lowered his head, saying:
“I’m sorry, sir” —and he didn’t look me in the face again the whole way to the house.
In all the time I lived with my father, I never saw him address someone without saying please and thank you. And that fear in Ismat’s eyes didn’t give me a good feeling.
“What are you, a thug or what?” —I asked him as soon as Ismat left my father’s room. I followed them because I needed to confront him. Everything around me was too ostentatious, more than I’d expected.
“I don’t kill people, if that’s what you want to know; for now, don’t leave the house unless it’s with the driver, unless you do want to die” —and he started laughing, but immediately started coughing—, “don’t socialize and stop asking questions; you’ll know everything in due time. Make the servants respect you; that’s what they are; I’ll rest. I need to rest.”
That behavior always frustrated me. I knew I wouldn’t gain anything from his attitude, so I left the room. As I walked down the hallway, I saw a woman dressed as a nurse coming toward me; I greeted her, but she lowered her head and just nodded.
I suppose I must get used to being treated the same as or worse than my father. I assume they hate him —I thought, annoyed. Going down the stairs to look for my suitcase. I’d left it next to a large, elegant polished wood piece of furniture, but it was gone.
“Oh, wonderful, and my things?” —I whispered.
And they answered behind me something incomprehensible:
“Indoda emhlophe eyisiphukuphuku” —and it didn’t seem like she used a good tone.
“Excuse me, do you speak Spanish?” —in front of me was a woman; I couldn’t deny it, she looked like a beautiful sculpture of very dark skin, her black hair, long, loose to her waist, with what seemed like hundreds of fine braids. Dressed in what resembled a long, long colorful tunic, but tight to her body, she looked at me with a nasty face and said again:
“Indoda emhlophe eyisiphukuphuku.”
I didn’t understand her, but what was the point of understanding her? If I was absorbed by the intense brown color of her eyes. And she seemed to notice I stayed like an idiot watching her, because she gave me a perfect smile and said to me again:
“Indoda emhlophe eyisiphukuphuku” —she’d changed her tone to a funnier or more mocking one, but yes, they were the same words.
She doesn’t speak Spanish. How do I make her understand me?
“Hey, do you know Ismat?” —and I mimed, emphasizing that he was big and burly— “Ismat? Can you call or find Ismat for me?” —I insisted.
“Ismat?” —she seemed to understand. Because she nodded twice— “Ismat!” —she said, and took me by the arm and led me to the kitchen. To realize that Ismat was there, eating, at the elegant table in that spectacular place.
The beautiful woman said several things, but I only understood her again when she mentioned what she’d already repeated several times: “indoda emhlophe eyisiphukuphuku,” and then Ismat hit the table, and they kept talking in the Zulu language because I still didn’t understand, although I sensed he was scolding her, but at the same time the other two older women who were cooking started laughing.
From the body language, I noticed Ismat seemed to give the order to the beautiful sculpture of a woman I had in front of me to leave there. Because she left with a very annoyed face.
Hey, don’t go —I thought— She’s too beautiful.
“Did something happen?” —I asked, sitting next to Ismat, and the scandalized man told me:
“Sir, sit in your place, at the dining room table; here we eat; why do you behave like this?”
I frowned at him and answered:
“Stop the stupidity; I’m hungry; I’m not like my father. I sit wherever I want, not where I should; do they speak Spanish?”
The big man smiled and shook his head.
“Well, please, tell them to feed me with whatever they have prepared; I’m hungry and I want to rest. You’re going to have to teach me to speak Zulu, because I can’t go on like this; by the way, what does that mean, what that woman said to me… she said something like: indoda emhlophe I don’t know what” —the women laughed again.
Ismat seemed to want to run out of there. Because his eyes went wide.
“You won’t want to know, Mr. David. You’ll get upset, and if your father finds out, it won’t go well for us.”
“Come on, I insist, tell me, what does it mean? Don’t worry, you have my word I won’t tell my father.”
“It means: Stupid white man.”
I couldn’t help laughing, and the others followed me, but in a more modest way.
“It’s like she doesn’t like me, right?”
“Delu is like that; don’t take it personally. She’s always hated her father’s few visits; what happens is she still doesn’t know you’re Mr. Saba’s son.”
“Mmmm, I understand. Is her name Delu?” —he noticed my insistence with her and seemed a bit uncomfortable.
So this is the kind of people the honorable Juan Saba hangs out with —I thought.
“Yes, that’s her name, Delu, and if you don’t want trouble with your father, don’t look at her, don’t touch her, and don’t go near her.”
Mmm… damn, she must be my father’s woman. How annoying; as always, him fucking things up wherever he goes —I thought, somewhat annoyed.
“I understand. I won’t go near her” —I answered, and started eating, because one of the older women, who hadn’t even bothered to smile or look me in the face, had brought me a plate full of food; luckily I wasn’t a vegetarian. Although everything was too delicious.
I brought the plate to the dishwasher, and the woman looked at me in amazement. Apparently they were used to rude, boorish people, as far as I could see.
“Ismat, please, show me which room will be mine. I need to rest.”
He got up immediately and told me:
“Yes, sir” —I noticed him a bit more relaxed.
“I assume my suitcase is already there, right?”
“Yes…” —he said something else, but I didn’t hear it because I was once again mesmerized by Delu, who was lying on a big armchair reading a book, and to my amazement the book was in Spanish.
Ahhh, she did nothing but pull my leg and call me “Stupid white man.” I love it; it’s a pity she’s my father’s woman —I complained.
“Are you the only one who speaks Spanish here?” —I asked Ismat as soon as I entered my room.
The man was silent for a few seconds, then said:
“Delu insisted years ago that I teach her, and I did; only the two of us know; please, don’t tell your father. I don’t want to get into trouble for disobeying.”
Are they that afraid of a dying old man?
“What does my father do for a living?” —the question came out without thinking.
But to my amazement, Ismat left my room without saying anything to me; and that was the last time I saw him, or Delu, for several days.
Chapter 4
About four days passed, and my father’s health only got worse; he was always sedated and looked really bad.
In the house there was no Internet access; I only had satellite television, and the phone didn’t work, which meant I couldn’t have any kind of contact with anyone outside the house.
I felt imprisoned; I never saw the driver again, not to mention Delu or Ismat; I only saw the two cooks, and they didn’t understand a single word of what I said to them. And they gave me whatever food they wanted; they never understood my requests.
On the sixth day of staying in the same situation, Ismat knocked on my door, saying:
“How are you? Do you need anything?” —I opened the door and asked him in a complaining tone:
“Where were you? Why haven’t I seen you around here anymore?”
“I’ve been working, taking care of your father’s business. And I’m sorry, I don’t have permission to inform you of anything until he tells you everything. Please don’t insist.”
“Relax, I know when not to insist; my father almost decorates me for ignoring him. And no, I don’t need anything; I just want to be less alone. Get the women out of the kitchen; I’ll cook” —I looked at the clock—, “dinner.”
“I don’t think that’s possible; you’re not allowed.”
Faced with his refusal and my growing bad mood, I answered:
“I’m not asking your permission; it’s an order.”
“All right, sir.” And so it was; as soon as he left me in the kitchen, I asked him to come back in four hours. I wanted to be completely alone, doing one of the things I liked most: cooking.
When I’d been cooking for about two hours, I heard someone start coughing behind me.
I turned around, and it was Delu, coughing out of control; I observed the scene and noticed she’d choked drinking water; I assumed she’d been amazed to see me cooking.
Without thinking, I approached to help her.
“Are you okay? Calm down, breathe a little.” —And she obeyed me, then sat in the nearest chair and started speaking in Zulu.
I smiled and said to her:
“You don’t need to pretend you don’t speak Spanish; I already know you understand me” —her eyes went wide—, “aha, got it, I’ve caught you in the lie. Tell me, are you feeling okay?”
She nodded warily; she seemed not to trust me. Very intimidated. Like those little puppies that have always been mistreated and you want to pet, and they won’t let you; well, like that.
“Delu, I won’t hurt you. I’m Juan Saba’s son” —her eyes widened much more— “I won’t hurt you, I swear; you don’t need to worry.”
“You didn’t know you were his son.”
“And I didn’t know you were his woman, but all right, it’s no big deal.”
“I-I’m no-no one’s woman; I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend” —she corrected me, but her Spanish wasn’t very fluent.
This is the first good news in days —I was glad.
“Does my father have any other women or children here?” —I asked, full of curiosity, since nobody told me anything.
“No, never, only Mr. David Saba… Ju-just you” —and she smiled. She looked at what I was doing and got excited— “The food is burning!”
“Shit!” —I ran to take the food off the pan, and yes, the broccoli I was sautéing in the pan was giving off smoke. And the rabbit in sauce was already starting to stick from the excess flame.
As best we could, we kept the rest of the food from becoming inedible, and she helped me prepare a salad as I told her which ingredients to use.
She was too beautiful and delicate, with such an attractive mischievousness that I didn’t notice when Ismat entered the kitchen and, with an authoritarian voice, spoke in the Zulu language, and immediately after, Delu ran out with tears in her eyes.
“Hey, what’s going on? What was all that? She was only helping me cook… how is it that you treat her like that?”
“Mr. Saba’s orders have always been that no man look at her, touch her, or go near her. And she knows it. If she disobeys again, I’ll have to tell her father.”
It was impossible not to get furious at the situation.
“I’m not just any man; I’m his son, and I find it outrageous that you treat a woman, a grown woman like her, like a little girl. Delu can decide what to do and what not to do.”
“In this house nobody decides, only your father.”
“Fuck Juan Saba, and fuck what you just told me!” —I left there angrily toward my father’s room. I was going to wake him up if possible, but he was going to tell me what was going on here. Nobody was going to limit how I lived, and if that’s how things were in that house, I’d leave today.
I was so angry I walked around the place as if I knew perfectly where I was going, but by the time I stopped, I was on a side of the big house I hadn’t explored. What brought me back to reality were the sobs I started hearing behind a door.
It’s Delu —I told myself, and without thinking I opened the door. Yes, it was her; she was sitting on the floor, crying with her hands and face on the bed. I felt a strong urge to approach her to comfort her. And that’s what I did.
As soon as she felt me touch her shoulder, she just raised her head and looked at me, then kept crying with even more heartbreak. I didn’t know what to do in these kinds of situations, so I sat next to her and hugged her. She didn’t resist; my boldness didn’t seem to bother her.
That’s how we stayed, I don’t know for how long, until she fell asleep.
One thing was very certain for me: she was a very sad and lonely woman.
Without moving her too much, I lifted her and laid her on the bed; I wasn’t careful enough, because she half-opened her eyes a little and pulled me toward her body again.
I already knew her perfume by heart, but I’d already separated from her, and when she exerted that force and brought me toward her body, she intoxicated me again with everything that her being implied.
“Don’t tell anyone” —she whispered to me. And without more, she kissed me.
If we’d both wanted it, that night I would have made her mine, countless times, but there were many things I needed answers about, and I didn’t want to rush the situation, even more after hearing those words that echoed in my head again and again…
Don’t tell anyone.
I devoured her lips until I was exhausted; I could barely separate from her, but the moment came when, smiling, she told me:
“I hope to see you soon.”
And I shouldn’t abuse the trust and what had happened between us. So I walked away and went to my room; at that moment I had no head to talk to anyone. I only wanted one thing I couldn’t have at that moment, so I had to take a really cold shower.
Chapter 5
About another week must have passed for me to realize that in that house, everyone seemed to be in their own space and didn’t talk much to each other. Only the two older women who worked in the kitchen seemed to have some trust, but Ismat just ate and left; I barely saw the nurse outside my father’s room; and Delu… She was absent.
I had many days without seeing her and the situation was starting to drive me desperate. I wanted to contemplate her, talk to her, but she disappeared completely after we got a little intimate that night.
What if I go to her room again? Will she be upset? Could it be she didn’t like what happened between us? What am I supposed to do?
I couldn’t think of anything else but to prepare her a chocolate dessert, and to avoid problems or her being scolded again, I tried not to be seen while walking to her room.
It’s outrageous that I have to hide like a kid in what’s supposed to be my own house —and all because the lord and master is practically in an induced coma because he can’t stand the pain of his illness.
He brought me here to share with me, and what I’m in is a luxurious prison… I don’t even have Internet; I’m going to go crazy in this shit.
I knocked on the door and nobody opened it for me.
Did she leave? Is she no longer in the house?
“Delu” —I knocked again— “It’s me, David” —I knocked again as prudently as I could. But nobody answered me. —”Delu, forgive me if I made you uncomfortable days ago; I just want to know you’re okay.”
That’s when I heard:
“No, you haven’t done anything” —she answered in a doubtful voice— “You didn’t make me uncomfortable; it’s just that I can’t open the door; I’ve been punished by Mr. Saba; I don’t know when I’ll be able to get out of here” —I almost broke the small plate holding the dessert with my hands; I felt my body heat up as she said the words—, “I want to see you, but they won’t let me. I’m sorry.”
“And how is it that my father locked you up if he can’t even hold his soul? He’s barely been conscious these days, given how bad his health is.”
“No, I-I don’t know” —I felt she didn’t want to keep talking.
“Do you know where they keep the keys? I have to get you out of here. Have you eaten? Have they fed you?”
“Yes, only Ismat brings me food. Nobody else comes here.”
I feel like I’m starting to hate that bastard.
“Do you know where the keys are to open the rooms, or at least to get into yours?”
“There are copies in the kitchen. In a vase near the microwave; that’s where they’re kept.”
“I’ll go get them; I’ll be right back.” —I went straight there. My heart was racing a thousand miles an hour; I didn’t know if it was from the euphoria of behaving at thirty-one years old like a fifteen-year-old, or from the annoyance I felt that in this house there were so many injustices and irrational actions.
Since when is it normal to lock a woman in a room for days? —I asked myself while getting the keys and putting them in my pocket.
When I turned around, my father’s nurse was there, in front of me.
“Good evening, young man.”
“Hi” —I managed to say; I hoped she hadn’t noticed what I put in my pocket.
“Your father, since yesterday, is already a little better, but you know his condition.”
“Did you manage to talk to Ismat these days?” —I needed to know who had locked Delu in that room.
“No, nobody has entered the room except you. I only go down to get food and go right back up; I only allow myself that when he’s just been sedated. So don’t worry. I’m going right up to attend to him.”
I didn’t insist; that was more than enough for me. Although her words puzzled me, I wasn’t asking her for explanations; that excess of fear and authority in this house was very noticeable.
I took an apple and sat down to eat it to wait for the nurse to leave; and yes, she didn’t take even five minutes getting her food, so much so that she had a small bag where she put fruits and cookies, as if she planned not to leave the room for a long time.
This is strange, very strange —I thought, looking around to see if I was being watched. I was alone, so I immediately walked to Delu’s room.
When I opened the door, I saw her lying down reading a book. As soon as she saw me, she put the book on the bed and jumped toward me to hug me and give me a short kiss.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you again; I thought you’d already left this house.”
“This isn’t a house, it’s a prison” —I murmured, trying to control my bad mood—, “here, I brought you a dessert I made; it’s chocolate” —she took it and started eating it. —”Since when haven’t you eaten?”
“Since this morning; Ismat brings me food before leaving here.”
“That son of a bitch locked you up because he wanted to; it wasn’t my father who ordered it” —I told her while caressing her soft cheek.
“It’s irrelevant; the two of them think alike; they’re identical” —she said, trying another spoonful of the dessert.
“Who are you? Why are you here? I’ve been told nobody can approach you; I don’t understand; why do they take that attitude toward you? The women who cook are freer than you.”
“Nobody is free; we’re slaves.”
She said the words, and my world spun. I didn’t even know what to say; I was disgusted by all of this.
No wonder they didn’t socialize; there was so much respect, and they didn’t have Internet either. Nobody left once they entered. I mean, how could I not realize? The best example was my days staying here.
“Slaves? Are you his slave?” —I couldn’t believe my own words.
“Yes, this is Africa; it always happens; wha-what surprises you?” —it wasn’t sarcasm; I could feel the repulsion in her words.
“I don’t think my dad would allow that. He’s stupid, but he’s not a bad person to allow himself to have slaves, when he could pay thousands of servants if he wanted to.”
She just shrugged her shoulders, then handed me the plate.
“Very delicious; will you bring me more tomorrow?” —she smiled, and I melted before her gaze. But I froze; I didn’t even feel worthy of touching her again. I was the son of the man who deprived her of her freedom.
“Ye-yes, yes, I’ll bring you some” —at my answer, she took my hand and told me:
“You’re not like your father; you’re different. I like you.”
And I liked her entirely, but I couldn’t stay in that room, in that house, in that country. Everything was a damn disgrace… how could you have slaves in the twenty-first century? How could a human deprive people of the most valuable thing a living being has, which is their freedom? You have to be very rotten in soul to fall into that kind of activity.
I mean, if that damn bastard doesn’t die, I’ll give him an overdose of painkiller myself; no, better, I’ll make sure they don’t give him painkillers so he feels a lot of pain —I thought, furious. Now I truly detested my father; this was the last straw.
Since she realized I wouldn’t say anything, as I was immersed in my thoughts, she asked me:
“Will you come tomorrow?” —and she hugged me.
“Yes, tomorrow we’ll see each other” —I returned the hug, then gave her a kiss on the forehead and left there.
Chapter 6
My face was falling off from shame. And at the same time, I was too angry.
I walked to my father’s room, and as expected, he was asleep; he looked worse than before.
“When will that bastard wake up?” —I asked with a nasty face, watching him sleep. His skin color was different, more yellow.
“I’m sorry, Mr. David; your father is in a lot of pain; his terminal phase isn’t being very pleasant for him, or with all the care we have here” —she pointed at a bunch of machines and medicines—, “we can spare him the suffering; he can barely stand being awake.”
“I suppose with everything he’s done in life, he deserves it” —the woman looked at the floor; she knew I wouldn’t say anything more—. “I’m going to give you an order, and I hope you listen to me, because if I find out otherwise, you’ll meet me angry; I need you to leave my father awake the next time he wakes up and come get me, because I need to talk to him.”
“I’ll do my best” —she answered through her teeth.
“Didn’t I explain myself? I said it was an order” —being despotic was something I knew how to do; I always saw that attitude in my father. I could imitate it perfectly.
“I’d rather get a scolding from you than from Mr. Saba” —of course, that was to be expected. At that moment, I got curious to know something…
“How is it that you speak Spanish so well?”
“I’m your father’s private nurse; he paid for a course for me in Mexico, and that’s why I could learn; I owe your dad a lot. Every time he comes to this house, I have to come too; it’s our routine. But please, I’m not allowed to talk to the people who live in this place; I hope you can understand me. It’s to keep security.”
Ah, so he lets the white women leave, and enslaves the others… Well, now the situation is clearer to me —I was too outraged.
I left there, not without closing the door harder than necessary behind me. I went to my room and took a bath. If everything went well, tomorrow I could find out what’s going on in this place.
Five days passed, and despite going to my father’s room up to three times to see him, he was always asleep; he was starting to get very swollen, and his color was even more yellow. I knew he had little left. And I didn’t want him to die without giving me an explanation.
The days passed very slowly for me, and at night I went to Delu’s room, and we spent hours reading, eating, looking at each other in silence; I took the opportunity to teach her more Spanish; I loved her company. And I was sure the feeling was mutual.
But every time I asked her how she met my dad, she stayed silent and said nothing. Once I insisted so much she only answered in a low, ashamed voice:
“Ismat made me swear I wouldn’t tell you anything, not without you first talking to your dad. Actually, I shouldn’t have told you what I told you that time; that was a secret, and secrets must be kept and respected.”
The feeling of loyalty she had for him confused me, but I assumed she suffered from Stockholm syndrome, so I wasn’t going to fight against that. Besides, her level of innocence was such that I was sure she’d never slept with anyone.
My father guarded her like a wolf from the others; what was the reason?
Here I was, lying down, next to her, watching her sleep. It was time for me to go. Otherwise I’d fall asleep and run into Ismat in the morning.
I got up carefully, and when I took three steps toward the door, it opened. And I ran into Ismat, who looked at me amazed; he smelled of alcohol, and as soon as he saw me, he became hysterical, shouting.
“You spoiled little shit! What are you doing here?” —he pushed me and exerted so much force I fell on my ass on the floor. I got up quickly while he kept shouting— “Get out of the way; it’s time to claim what’s mine! Get out of here, stupid white man.”
And he lunged at her with great impetus, as if it were his right.
Delu began to struggle with him, even more hysterical, desperate, while he tried to open her legs.
“You damn bastard, leave her alone” —I shouted at him while I hit him on the head with a lamp, but knowing how to defend myself wasn’t something I was good at. The blow wasn’t strong enough. With a slap, he hit me in the face, and from the pain, I closed my eyes for a few seconds.
I was dazed between her screams and my pain. I focused my gaze to concentrate and have something to hit him with, and I saw he had a pistol on his belt. For a second I stopped; it was clear taking it out would put us all in danger, but as soon as I saw him kissing her and pressing his body hard toward Delu, rage blinded me.
I took the gun from him and shot him without thinking.
My life took an unexpected turn after that night.
Chapter 7
Two days after the whole incident, my father opened his eyes in front of me.
Ismat was in a locked room, with a bandage crossing his right thigh, and he was handcuffed to the bed. He was saved from me killing him because I aimed too badly, and because the nurse, as soon as she heard the screams, came toward where we were and acted in time on the idiot’s gunshot wound.
I hadn’t bothered to talk to him; I never wanted to see him again. Since then, Delu was with me in my room; she didn’t want to separate from me; clearly, in the past, she’d already gone through that.
I sensed it; I wasn’t certain; I didn’t know if she’d been abused before, because she didn’t tell me anything; since the incident, she limited herself to sleeping and staying silent and nothing else.
It seemed the curious and intelligent young woman I’d met had vanished. And that hurt me threefold; this whole shitty situation had me on edge.
“Hi son, why that nasty face?” —the question offended me.
“You’re dying and you’re still a son of a bitch.”
“Oh, more respect; I’m your father; do you forget that? Save the insults for when I’m gone” —he said that last part taking an audible gulp of air; it was hard for him to speak.
“How do you want me to respect you if…?” —I stopped; the nurse was still in the room, so I looked at her and told her— “Do me the favor of leaving us alone.”
She nodded and left.
“That education is from…” —I interrupted him.
“Yes, I already know that education is from my mother; I have no doubt everything is from her, because you’re a big piece of shit as a person” —I felt my blood starting to heat up—, “How is it that you have so much money? Do you traffic weapons or what the fuck? Besides, you keep your servants as slaves —slaves, Dad, slaaaves— by now the whole house should be hearing my screams; I had no control; I was on edge! —Besides, you have a potential damn rapist in the house; that Ismat, a few days ago, entered Delu’s room and tried to abuse her while drunk… there, in front of me, as if nothing else mattered to him in life.”
“That bastard is going to die” —my father whispered. And that froze me cold; one thing was me thinking he was a murderer or something like that, but realizing he actually was impressed me.
“So you kill just like that… Don’t you care about anything? The law, the problems it could cause me; you don’t matter anymore, you’ll die, but what about me? Did you ever think about me?”
“Always; that’s why I never told you anything.”
“Not a damn thing, Dad; are these the businesses you’re going to leave me? Is this how you ruin my life? Giving me a responsibility I don’t want, from a business I still don’t even know for sure what it is, and you give me three slaves and a potential rapist. This is the last straw.”
“I’m no murderer; I only traffic rhinoceros horns and anything similar, and we sell them to the Chinese or Muslims; they use them as aphrodisiac medicine, a remedy for fever, and cardiovascular pain.” —I had to sit down because there was no way I could stay on my feet— “I know it’s not something you’d be proud of, but I sold my part of the business, and you just have to collect the money and never know anything about what happened here. Go to Paraguay and continue your normal life. I just wanted to leave you a good amount of money for the grandchildren.”
“And the slaves too? You know… it’s not enough to be rotten with money stained with animal blood; you also have to have the balls not to pay women just to follow a shitty culture that allows infringing on the right to be free just for money… or wait… wait… Also, do we have to encourage internal superiority complexes by being abusive to those who can’t defend themselves?”
“What slaves are you talking about?” —his brow was completely furrowed.
“The cooks and Delu, those slaves. I assume the nurse, being white, can’t be your slave” —I joked, looking at him with contained annoyance.
“I don’t know what you’re saying. Whatever they told you isn’t true. Delu, I myself rescued her from being abused by a sick man. Twenty years ago, I went to close a deal with a partner at his own house, and that damn bastard” —he coughed twice and put his hand on his stomach; it was too swollen— “had bought two nine-year-old girls to rape them; and then only God would know what he would have done with them… I didn’t hesitate for a moment in my decision; I had to pretend to be a pedophile and insist on spending all my money so he’d give me the girls… he didn’t agree; we closed the deal, and I could only bring one of them with me, and that was Delu. Every time I remember that moment, it hurts me not to have had the capacity, the character, and the power of persuasion I have at this moment.”
By then, I was looking at him amazed at what he was telling me. Dad started coughing again and moved somewhat uncomfortably in bed.
“She grew up here; Ismat was already my partner and supported me for a while. That month I spent here was horrible; I tried to get into the diamond smuggling business, but that life they lead is horrifying. Two weeks after I kept Delu, I found out that the slaves, older women who got sick and interrupted the daily work in the clandestine mines, were killed like dogs… I found out at the precise moment they were going to eliminate six; that time I could only pay for two.”
“How is that possible?”
“It is, but let me finish clearing my name a bit in front of you; let the pain I feel right now be worth it…” —I moved my hand for him to continue—. “They were still young; I chose the least old ones so they could take care of Delu, because I was bankrupt after paying hundreds of thousands for their lives; they were worth nothing; they only demanded that amount to see if I had a lot of money to enter the business; in the end, I never entered; it’s not like after seeing everything I saw, I still wanted to enter, but at least in the process I wasn’t murdered and I saved lives.”
“I’m not going to deny you did something good amid so much shit, but how is it that they’re slaves. Besides, you fucked thousands of animals… doesn’t it disgust you to be like that?”
“Once you get used to it, no; everyone has to do what they have to do. At least I took care of a lot of people in the process and helped others rise. The nurse is an example… I thought Ismat was different, but I see he’s not.”
“I shot him with his own gun” —I answered in a proud tone.
“In the head?” —he smiled.
“No, in the leg.”
“That’s my son; you could never be a murderer.”
“Why are they slaves?” —I insisted.
“Ismat informed me Delu was about to graduate from university. And my excellent cooks have their own houses, and they only come when I come here, some five or six times a year; that was the deal for saving them and for taking care of Delu… I left everything arranged with Ismat. I don’t want to socialize much with anyone; if I get attached, everything goes wrong; since I lost your mother, I could never allow myself feelings for anyone else.”
“That was very clear to me” —I answered with irony— “that you did pass on to me.”
“I don’t know who told you they’re slaves; they can come and go whenever they want, like the driver, like the nurse… I don’t know; after all, I don’t find out about anything; we barely talk; they don’t need to know what I do, since their lives could be in danger. Since there was always the possibility Ismat wouldn’t take care of himself or would get into trouble and attract ill-intentioned people here; although the horn business is a bit quiet. It’s not like other types of smuggling.”
“Ismat deceived you; those women don’t leave here; I know what I’m telling you; Delu told me.”
“Twenty years Delu locked up here? I don’t believe it” —his amazement was palpable.
“Yes, that’s how it is; that young woman hasn’t socialized with anyone; she’s naive and was convinced all men are bad, including me; the first time she saw me, she only said to me: Stupid white man.”
My father smiled.
“Ismat is a bastard who deserves to die; if he did this behind my back, I’m sure he did endless other things. He must have robbed me and screwed up businesses in his favor; I don’t doubt it. Where is he?” —he tried to get up.
“He’s handcuffed in his room, as far as I know.” —”Okay, that’s enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“I understand myself; that’s not your problem” —he answered with authority.
And there it is, his attitude of: “I won’t tell you anything more.”
“Do you want to know anything else before I die?” —he asked in a melodramatic tone.
“Did Mom know about this? About your illegal businesses?”
“No, she never knew; she wasn’t with me long enough to find out; you know that story.”
“Yes” —and I looked at the floor. I stayed there in silence.
“Do you like Delu?” —and a mischievous smile appeared on my father’s face.
“I suppose that’s not your problem.”
“That’s the confirmation I needed; after all, you shot someone without thinking twice. You must like her a lot.”
“I’m not as visceral as you; I would have done that for any defenseless woman.”
“Yes, I know; you’re a good man… So, how do you explain that you went to her room every night?”
Damn, I didn’t see that coming.
“How do you know that?” —I asked, and then regretted it. That had been a word game.
“I didn’t know, but for you to be at the exact moment Ismat tried to rape her inside her room, I quote, your words from a moment ago, it’s because you were there with her. You just have to be more deductive when listening to people.”
Bastard, nothing escapes him.
“I think I’m in love, truth be told, but I’m practically the son of the near-cause of her misfortune; how am I supposed to forget that and move forward with my feelings?”
“You’re not guilty of anything. Just follow your feelings; the worst that can happen is that I die… and look at her, she’s alive” —he smiled. Always with his sarcasm. Although he was right.
“I don’t know; I need to think; it’s too many things; anything else you have to tell me?” —I asked, wishing there were no more surprises.
“The nurse will tell you when you can withdraw the money from this account” —he pointed at the drawer of his nightstand, and I took out a sealed envelope— “There are the details. Use that money to do something better than what I did, and keep being the man I never raised; I did you a favor, even if you don’t believe it.”
“Mhm” —I murmured.
“Give me a hug, please.” —and I did; I approached and hugged him; I realized he had a fever.
“I think it’s time for the nurse to come” —I murmured. Then he told me:
“A few more orders and I’m leaving. Don’t worry; as soon as I’m gone, you’ll be able to leave this house; that’s already prepared.”
“Why did you leave me locked up here?” —I had to ask him.
“Delu always needed a man of good feelings; whenever I saw her, she was alone, and I assumed if she came to visit me every time I came, it was because she cared; big mistake; I never knew she was locked up in my own house, but the times I observed her, you always came to mind… I just sensed you’d like each other; that’s why I brought you here, to see if, amid so many bad times, I could get you eternal happiness… life is strange, although coincidences don’t exist.”
“Yes, you’re right about that” —I gave him another hug and left the room.
Delu was waiting for me, and I had many things to think about.
Chapter 8
On my way to my room, I started hearing Ismat’s screams, demanding to be released.
So I took the liberty of entering the room.
“Ohh, but what do we have here, it’s the idiot white David.”
“Shut your mouth, stupid; why did you keep those women as slaves for so many years?”
“Because I felt like it; Delu would be mine as soon as your father died; he’s been sick for years, and that was my opportunity. Too many years taking care of her and keeping her pure, a virgin for me… your half-sister has a horrible temper; it cost me so much to put up with her, but without your father in the way, I’ll be able to do whatever I want with her, and nobody will stop me.”
My half-sister? —I frowned— Dad lied to her to protect her. I’m sure.
“She’s not my half-sister; she’s a girl he bought to keep her from living a bad life as a pedophile’s toy.”
Ismat thrashed in the bed trying to free himself, visibly upset.
“That damn old man always got his way in everything. How I hate him… Get me out of here, stupid white man!”
Then the nurse arrived with a syringe.
“Excuse me, young man” —she told me, and I stepped aside.
“Ismat, Mr. Saba says he needs you to be quiet” —she took his arm, but he shouted:
“Don’t come near me, white bitch; get out of here, out of my house; I always kept this house impeccable; I took care of the businesses; I stood up many times so everything would go well, and this is how they pay me?” —he shouted very loudly; I thought at any moment he’d faint from his abrupt movements and the vehemence of his words; he had contained rage.
“No, I just found out you were abusive and deprived three women of their freedom for years; and you lied, saying those were his orders, and Mr. Saba no longer requires your services.”
“What?” —Ismat managed to say.
But the only answer he received was the injection directly into his neck; I assumed it would be impossible to find a vein on the bastard, and that’s why she decided to inject him there.
To my amazement, the nurse looked at me and told me:
“Things are never good or bad; only perspective exists.”
I nodded and watched Ismat, who began foaming at the mouth; he was convulsing.
“Hey, help him, what’s wrong with him?”
“No, I must take care of the few hours your father has left. Go to sleep; when you wake up, this abuser won’t be here. Mr.’s orders.”
And to my amazement, she left the room and left me there, motionless, while Ismat stopped breathing in front of me.
I don’t know how long I stayed there. But Delu’s scream brought me back to reality. Worried, I ran to my room.
There she was, all bundled up, trembling with fear.
“It was just a nightmare, my love; it’s me; I’m here.”
“Don’t leave me alone, please; Ismat could come.”
“You’ll never see him again, I promise” —she hugged me, and shortly after, she fell asleep, unlike me, who couldn’t sleep all night.
When I thought it prudent, given the morning hour, I told Delu to get up and come with me; as I walked toward the kitchen, I came across a note in the dining room saying my father had died a few hours ago and that the driver would wait for my instructions to leave. There was a cell phone that, ironically, did have signal, with a single number saved that said: “Driver.”
I felt nothing; I stayed blank for a few minutes.
“Did Mr. Saba die?” —she’d also read the note— “Are you leaving?” —her brown eyes began filling with tears.
“Yes, my father died, and yes, I must leave; I have a life in my country.”
Delu began to sob like that day I saw her cry for the first time.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry; does my father’s death hurt you that much? He did everything he could in this life, and he was very sick.”
“He was bad to me, to us; we’ve been his slaves for a long time.”
“No, that’s a lie; Ismat invented all that to keep you locked up here; he wanted you for himself, and he also wanted two slaves, as I see” —I pointed toward the kitchen, hearing noise coming from there—, “he was the bad guy; my father wasn’t the cause of anything. I swear; he told me everything.”
“Then you’ll leave us locked up now, like he did.”
“No, my love” —I wiped the tears from her eyes— “you’ve always been free, but from today on, you’ll be able to do whatever you want. I’ll leave you this house and a lot of money so you can live in peace; I know those women there must have some family waiting for them; if not, they can stay here; this is rightfully theirs, all three of you.”
“And Ismat?” —she looked around as if looking for him.
“I told you you’d never see him again.”
“And you? When will you come back?”
I didn’t have an answer for that; everything I’d lived through in these days had changed me; I needed to get away and think.
“Soon, I promise.”
I fulfilled everything I told her. I withdrew the money from the account my father left me and donated part of the money; the rest I gave to Delu. Before leaving, we managed —paying a large amount of money— to get Delu a passport and an ID.
She was completely free, and it was her chance to start from scratch.
I returned to my country; I was never the same again after that trip to Africa.
Chapter 9
Every time night fell, I remembered Delu; it was inevitable not to feel that hole in my chest. Yes, I know I was an idiot to leave her, but that’s how I was, someone too fair. I didn’t deserve her.
I’d been like that for nine months, and every night that passed, I felt even worse; I’d never meet a woman like her, I knew it.
They knocked on my door, and I assumed it was the pizza I’d just ordered; depression had me about ten kilos heavier. I opened the door, paid the young man, and got ready to eat; shortly after, the doorbell rang again; I’d just noticed they hadn’t delivered the soda. When I opened the door, there was Delu, with my soda.
“I think it’s time for dinner” —she told me, and threw herself at me.
I won’t deny it; it was the most spectacular moment in a long time in my life.
She started kissing me, and amid the caresses, I asked her:
“How did you get here, how did you find me?” —I laughed mischievously— “The pizza is going to get cold.”
She let out a low laugh.
“Oh, my love, after you left, a month later, I did nothing but look for you; I paid a lot of money to find you, but it never would have been enough” —she separated from me and, frowning, demanded— “Why didn’t you look for me? Don’t I matter to you?”
“I love you, but I didn’t know how to handle the situation; I didn’t want to hurt you; I don’t know, I’m a coward, although I admit I wouldn’t have lasted longer like that. Since I met you, I do nothing but think about you… forgive me; I should have looked for you before. I’m a complete idiot. Nothing I tell you will excuse me. I always make bad decisions, like my father did many times.”
“Distance puts everything in perspective; there’s no bad decision that can ruin the beautiful thing that happened between us…” —she kissed me to the point we ended up sighing—, “as soon as you left, I did nothing but look for a way to find you, and here I am, determined not to let you leave ever again.”
“I swear I missed everything about you, your smell, your gaze, the softness of your skin; what an idiot I was to leave you; I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done that; it was a complete mistake” —the kisses were getting more intense, and my desire to have her overflowed through all my senses.
“Nothing matters anymore; the only valuable thing is that, despite all the bad, we can allow ourselves to be together, and that’s a privilege many people can’t have” —she kissed me again while lifting my shirt—, “we can’t waste it thinking about nonsense; what’s the worst that can happen?”
“You’re right” —and we kissed even more, until there were no reasons left to avoid being together without the bothersome clothes we were wearing.
We made love several times that day… and that was the beginning of the only stable and sincere relationship we both could have in many areas of our lives; and if you had any doubts, that was the most valuable and important thing I managed to get from my trip to Africa.
The End
Nowadays, slavery is something served under the table. It exists, and the most harmed are the girls and women living in this situation. The world needs more people who break the cycle and stop taking part in these practices. Focus on love, empathy, and respect among yourselves, among the human race.