Page 4

He found her, at last, cowering just inside the front door in her old green dress. The door was locked, of course, and the key was on a chain round his neck, which was why she hadn’t been able to get out. When she saw him she raised her hands in front of her face, as her husband had done, just before the General shot him. The General was strongly tempted to shoot her, too, and felt his finger tightening on the trigger. With a physical effort, he desisted, putting down the emergency lamp on the floor so that the beams shone upon her. "Up," he said, pointing the gun at her midsection. "Or I’ll shoot you in the belly." Slowly, she stood, looking down at the floor.

"You little bitch," the General said, in Karibu. "You need a lesson, don’t you?" Without warning, he slapped her with his free hand. It was a roundhouse blow, and sent her staggering into the wall. Before she could recover, he slapped her again, knocking her down. "Up," he shouted, and raised the revolver barrel to pistol-whip her, but she scuttled into a corner on hands and knees, shielding her head with her arms. The General began to kick her, systematically smashing his foot into the soft parts of her body, until she was curled into a foetal ball on the floor, whimpering. Then he stood, looking down at her, and breathing heavily. 

"All right," he said. "Up, and back into the bedroom. Now." Painfully, holding on to the wall, she rose, and staggered past him, bent over and with her arms wrapped round her midsection. The green dress had torn, and a flap hung loose, exposing one of her breasts. Once in the bedroom she moaned and vomited on the floor.

"You clean that up," the General said, "now." He pointed to the torn dress. "Take that off and wipe the mess up with it. You can wash it tomorrow." He watched as she wiped up the vomit. "Now go to the bed, and stay there." He snorted. "You little animal," he said. "If I’d known you’d be that much trouble, I’d have killed you right there by the river. But then," he added, and laughed aloud, "why should I make things easy for you, huh?"

A little whimper of pain was the only answer.

The General sat in his chair, and watched the girl. He had switched off the emergency lamp to save the batteries, but the lightning was flashing almost continuously, so he could see her clearly. She was lying on her back, her body outlined by the sheet he had thrown over her, and had finally fallen into a troubled sleep.

The General sat and watched her. He felt alive and intensely awake now, full of energy. He listened to the rain on the roof and felt intensely happy. Militarily, at least, he had nothing to worry about for the next few months.

"Wamka," he said, turning the syllables of her name over in his mouth. "Wamka." The lightning flashed, closer than ever before, and illuminated her face. In her sleep, she looked even younger, the planes of her face smoothed away. The General once had had a sister who had looked something like her. His sister...

He shook his head. His sister had run away long ago, before the war, to become a whore in Keke. It was better not to think of his sister. She was probably not even alive any longer. If they ever took Keke, the General thought, he would go looking for his sister, and if he found her...

He clenched his fist. If he found her, someone would pay for what she had done, and for whatever had been done to her. He didn’t know who would pay, but someone definitely would.

In the next lightning flash, he saw that Wamka’s eyes were open. She looked frightened, and the General got up and slipped into bed with her.

"Hold me close," he said, and wrapped her in his arms. "It’s only lightning, nothing to be afraid of." He held her naked body in his arms until her breathing settled down and became deep and regular, but he kept holding her even after she was asleep.

"Why haven’t you killed me?"

In the light of morning, Wamka looked tired and drawn. The wound on her cheek was crusted with clotted blood, and her face was swollen from the General’s slaps. She was dressed in a man’s T shirt and shorts, which the General had given her after ordering her to throw away the vomit-stained green dress, and her arms and legs looked like sticks. 

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