Black Mischief by Carl Hancock Page A

noise was the sound of their breathing until they caught the sudden rush of air from the wing beat of a dozen white cattle egrets moving purposefully up from the lakeside, flying directly above them on their way home after their day’s work. Tom looked up.
    â€˜I wonder if they’re coming from Loldia or the Lang farm next to Karura Tu. I love those creatures. They are hard workers. They don’t miss a day on the job. I wonder where they live. Perhaps they are in a hurry in case they’ll be late for tea!’
    â€˜Papa likes them, too. He always stops to watch them fly over. He thinks they have a special gift, a reward for being the hardest workers in the Garden of Eden.’
    â€Becca, you know my grandma is a Catholic.’
    â€˜She used to talk about the beautiful churches in Verona. And you know she would not approve of the “grandma”!’
    â€˜Yes, I know. I like to tease her sometimes. She tried to teach us a bit of Italian when we were kids. Waste of time. She used to call us her figlii moroni, or something like that. Anyway, she goes to confession once a month, an Irish priest in Nakuru. And the happiest boy I knew in Oundle was a left footer, too, Todd Tremlett. Before we went to the pub on Saturday night, he was in the box in Saint Mary’s. A dry-clean for the soul he called it. Those egrets don’t need any confession. No hang-ups.’
    â€˜Lucky egrets. Lucky boy. I must tell Papa. He’ll enjoy the story. But Papa teaches a different way. When we were younger, he read to us from a story by a mzungo who lived a long time ago. Every night before bedtime, we all sat ‘round the table and listened to a chapter from Pastor Bunyan.’
    â€˜Pilgrim’s Progress. Our scripture teacher read it with us at Pembroke. All I can remember are a few words I still don’t understand. Umm, one was “delectable” and a really weird bit, “slough of despond”. We had relatives living in Slough, near London. I couldn’t figure it out.’
    â€˜Despond, despair, Thomas! Papa told us it was a very hurtful thing.’
    â€˜And guilt?’
    â€˜A bad pain!’
    â€˜You make it sound like a sickness. I’ve got a good dose of whatever it is just now. It hangs around like a heavy cold you can’t get rid of.’
    â€˜But, Thomas, isn’t that why we have come to talk to the mind doctor?’ She looked him in the face and arched her eyebrows in a smiling innocence.
    He smiled back and pulled her close enough to kiss her lightly on the cheek. ”Becca, I’m so looking forward to you wifing me. How can one woman be so beautiful and so clever?’
    â€˜Not so clever. Why am I afraid of this brother of Julius?’
    In the silence that followed, Tom watched a line of ants moving in procession up the smooth trunk of the tree. She, in her turn, was watching him closely. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity when she saw the solemn expression melt into bemusement and then into a beaming smile.
    â€˜Thomas, you must share with me.’
    â€˜Stephen Kamau!’
    â€˜You are giving me puzzles again.’
    â€˜It was about a month ago.’ His voice was full of excitement. ‘I was in the office with your father when he was warning one of the young planters for being lazy. The kid, Matthias, was scared, thought for sure he was going to lose his job.
    â€˜Bwana Kamau, my papa will kill me. You know he’s very angry man.’
    â€˜Son, you are good church boy?’
    â€˜Not so good.’
    â€˜Did you ever read this verse? “Go to the ant, thou sluggard. Consider her ways and be wise?”’
    â€˜What’s a sluggard, Bwana?’
    Rebecca was laughing. ‘Papa told us that story after he came home from the fields. But, Thomas, what are you talking about?’
    â€˜Don’t you see? Watching the ants just now.’
    â€˜I saw ants. I know they can show us when rain is coming soon.