The Story of Her Holding an Orange (9 page)

“Everything,” I answered, looking at the man who still stood at the door.

“Curious, aren’t we?” she said in a friendly tone, “I’ll try my best.”

I am telling you the full story now, which I’ve pieced together from all of the information from both Rose and my grandmother’s findings. This is the story of how Rose became the woman holding an orange.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

My great-grandfather Jovo was only eighteen when he met my great-grandma Anka in the early 1920’s. It was one of those love-at-first-sight things and they got married only a few weeks later. Anka became pregnant with my grandmother Dana shortly after. My great-grandfather was an adventurer and a world traveler, and he would often go on long trips by himself. The arrival of the child, however, changed that. He was no longer able to embark on exotic journeys because money was tight and responsibilities were piling up. I suppose that every man reaches a point when he has to stop being a kid and start being a grownup. Jovo wanted to be both.

During the late 1920’s in Bosnia, there was a huge craze for African safaris in Europe. For some reason, African countries heavily advertised their tourism and many, many people went on those trips. Prices were affordable - how often does a regular person get to go on a safari? So, when my great-grandpa heard an ad on the radio offering a special honeymoon discount for one of those trips to Kenya, he didn’t think twice. After some persuading, Anka agreed to Jovo’s spontaneous idea and soon they were packing. They even managed to talk Anka’s parents into taking care of my grandma while they were on their trip to explore the exotic land of Kenya. 

My great-grandparents had the time of their lives for the first few days in Nairobi. They’d go sightseeing, animal observing, flea market shopping, you name it. They even met a lovely local couple that lived in an apartment complex next to the hotel. The couple, husband Das and wife Chandi, were also new to Kenya since they had just moved there from India. Apparently, the four of them met at the grocery store and clicked immediately, spending the next few days together, doing all of the before mentioned activities.

Then my great-grandmother got sick from drinking some contaminated water. Her life wasn’t in danger, but the stomach pain and vomiting left her completely unable to get out of the bed. She didn’t want my great-granddad to miss out on his dream trip, so she made him go out and do activities without her. Jovo called up the Indian couple, but Das was at work. Chandi, his wife, however, was free for the evening and loved the idea of an afternoon activity. They decided to go sightseeing on the outskirts of Nairobi in the Kiambu province. I suppose my great-grandmother hadn’t noticed the chemistry between Chandi and Jovo, so she encouraged this adventure wholeheartedly. 

You can already tell where this is going… When Jovo and Chandi finally got to their destination, they had a blast. They saw all the nature that Kiambu had to offer, and then they decided to have a few cocktails at a local bar. We all know what alcohol does for our animal instincts, so it was no surprise that, by a few mango vodkas later, Jovo was thinking about Chandi in a wholly different light. He was surprised, though, at how little resistance she put up to his rusty flirting, since she was a traditional Indian woman, and adultery was unacceptable in her culture. One could go into deep analyses of why someone would risk it all for a quick fling, but we are all human, and we all make mistakes, so let’s leave it at that.

One more glass of liquid courage was the final push they needed to decide to escape the eyes of their tour guide and find a secret spot to do what they shouldn’t. They settled for a nearby deserted barn. I’d rather not go into tremendous detail about my great-grandfather’s sexual adventures, but let’s just say that it was… loud. They were both so lost in the wave of passion. About ten minutes into the act that some would call sin, Chandi looked up and saw a little girl staring at them from the attic. Shocked, she immediately covered herself with her torn dress and let a muffled scream out. My great-grandpa jumped up as well, trying his best to cover his indecency.

“Hey there…” he said quietly, “do you speak English?” 

The little girl, looking frightened, turned and disappeared in the dark of the attic. 

 “Go get her!” Chandi screamed.

Jovo climbed the old broken ladder leading to the high attic, trying to catch the girl before she escaped. He didn’t really know what he was going to do. It wasn’t like the girl knew either of them, and the danger of this affair being revealed by the child was nearly zero. Still, in the heat of the situation, and at Chandi’s shrill urging, he climbed into the attic looking for the little intruder. The attic was dark, so he lit up his old Zippo lighter, a gift from my great-grandma.

He found the girl standing in the corner, shivering in fear.

“Hey there, don’t be scared,” he spoke as he moved slowly towards her. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” 

The girl didn’t respond at all; she only kept shaking. My great-grandfather wanted the child to know that she was safe. Then he felt something in his coat pocket.

It was an orange he had brought on the trip for a snack.

Thinking that offering the kid the piece of fruit would be a sign of good intentions, he stepped closer towards her. 

As Jovo moved closer, the child attempted to run. The old attic floor was made of cheap wood and it couldn’t take all that activity. As the girl moved, the floor cracked below her and she fell through it. Shocked and terrified, Jovo looked through the hole and saw the child lying on the ground in an unnatural position. Her legs were horribly twisted, and her neck was dangerously tilted to the left. Her eyes were still open, although she was unable to speak or move. A second later, Chandi screamed.

“You killed her!” she yelled as Jovo tried to get down without getting killed himself. “You fucking killed her!”

“Calm down, I didn’t do anything,” responded Jovo, kneeling next to the girl and feeling her pulse. She was still alive. 

Chandi started crying. 

“We need to call for help,” she said through the tears. “The child is about to die!”

“Listen, Chandi,” said my great-grandfather, grabbing the woman’s shoulders to calm her down. “If we call someone, they will know. We’ll get discovered and both of our marriages are fucked.”

Chandi stopped crying as she looked up into Jovo’s determined eyes.

“I will lose Anka and you’ll lose Das over this. Is that what you want?”

“No…” was all Chandi managed to say.

“All right, let’s go then. I’m sure someone will find the child, and she’ll be just fine.” 

As they were about to leave, Jovo stopped.

“Hold on,” he said, walking back to the girl.

He put the orange next to her. 

“What are you doing?”

“When she wakes up, if she remembers all this, I just want her to remember that I meant no harm.”

And just like that, the two people, whose only sin up until then was adultery, became monsters. They left the barn, leaving the horribly broken child behind to die alone.

They found the worried tour guide in front of the bar and told him that it was time to go.

Jovo and Chandi went back to their partners, forcing themselves to forget the biggest mistake of their lives. 

Six days had passed since the incident, and Jovo hadn’t been able to find any articles in the newspapers telling the story of a girl who died or was injured in an accident. Such an incident would definitely make it to the papers, Jovo thought, because the girl obviously belonged to a higher social class and was probably a daughter of someone important. He decided that he’d keep the secret forever, never revealing the atrocity he had committed in a deserted farm on the outskirts of Nairobi. 

Anka had recovered from the stomach poisoning just in time to travel back to Bosnia. Jovo was very excited to get out of the country where he’d become a monster. His excitement wore off when he saw that their ride to the airport was the tour guide who led Chandi and him to the province of Kiambu. The guide gave no signs of knowing about the accident, so Jovo calmed down. About twenty minutes into the silent drive, a smile took over his face because he was nearly in the clear. Then, the tour guide spoke.

“Have you guys heard about the girl from Kiambu?”

Jovo’s smile instantly disappeared, and he was unable to reply. 

Anka, seeing her husband go quiet, responded. “No, what happened?”

“Well, apparently, some rich white girl fell of an old barn and nearly died.”

“She is alive?” Jovo jumped in, fear and excitement vying in his tone. He wanted the girl to be alive, but he was still afraid that somehow his affair would be discovered.

The driver chuckled. “See, that’s where it gets interesting…”

“What do you mean?” asked Anka.

“Well, this girl fell off the building’s attic, right? Supposedly, she got horribly injured. We’re talking broken legs, arms, ribs, and even neck.”

“Oh my god,” gasped Anka, looking at Jovo who was losing color in his face.

“But that’s not the worst part,” spoke the driver. “No, see, the girl had been lying there for hours until someone found her. The worst part is, she was completely awake the whole time. She was paralyzed, but she could feel the pain. Imagine having to feel your every broken bone for hours without the ability to move or even be able to do so much as scream.”

“My god, how did her parents let her do that? Is she going to be alright?”

“Is she?” jumped in Jovo, torn by guilt.

“Nobody knows. Her parents called all the best doctors they could buy in Kenya. They even rented a private helicopter to bring the medics in. All of the doctors had the same answer for them - she wasn’t going to make it. I’m not sure what exactly was killing her. Apparently, her internal organs were pierced by the broken bones, and since she was found so late after the accident, she had no chances.” 

“Poor child,” whispered my great-grandmother.

“But that’s not why I’m telling you this. Those kinds of things happen daily here. Listen to this; so her father refused to come to peace with the fact that his only child was going to die. He kept calling doctors outside Kenya, even America, but nobody would come after the initial diagnosis by the other doctors. Then he decided to go a different route.”

“What route?” asked Jovo. He saw the airport approaching, but he wasn’t going to leave without knowing what happened.

“One of the servants in their house suggested the father call a Voodoo priest. We have a lot of those in Kenya. I personally don’t believe in magic or Voodoo, but I know people who swear by it. Anyway, the girl’s father, cornered and with no options, agreed to this act of desperation. Some locals brought in the community priest who also happened to practice Voodoo.”

“You’re not going to tell me that the priest saved her, are you?” asked Anka skeptically. 

“Well… he didn’t. They told me that he spent the whole night saying prayers, sacrificing animals, all that crazy stuff they do. By the time the sun came up, the child looked as pale as a ghost, and it was obvious that she wouldn’t live to see another sunrise.”

“So, the kid died?” asked Jovo as the car pulled into the airport drop-off zone.

“No,” responded the driver, pulling his E-brake. “So get this; it’s 6am, the whole family is surrounding the girl, and the priest is getting ready to make the final sacrifice. Then, they hear a knock on the door. They thought it was another family member trying to join the ceremony. But it wasn’t.”

“Who was it?” asked Anka, as intrigued as Jovo.

“Are you sure you’re not going to be late for the flight?” said the driver, chuckling.

“Just tell us, for god’s sake, man,” responded Jovo. 

“All right, all right. They open the door, and a man is standing there. He’s not any of the family members, and he’s not a friend or a neighbor. He was dressed really well, black suit with a nice hat. The family thought he was one of the million doctors they had called. But the priest knew the man was no doctor. He immediately stopped his prayer and stood up. A Voodoo priest never stops his prayer. To the shock of the whole room, the priest just collected his things and said he had to leave. Without saying anything else, he ran out of the house. The injured girl’s mother broke down and started weeping, while the father fell to his knees, realizing that his final hope just went away. Then the man spoke. 

‘Your child is going to be dead before tonight,’ said this gentleman in a black suit.

‘What do you want from us?’ asked one of the kid’s uncles. ‘We know that.’

‘I can help.’

The whole room stared at him in shock.

‘How?’ asked the father in disbelief.

‘That is not important. The question is, do you want your child to remain in this world.’

‘Of course, what kind of a ques–’ the father began, but was cut off by the man.

‘I can make her live. But you will never see her again.’

‘What? Are you joking? Get out of here!’ yelled someone from the girl’s bedside.

‘What do you say? Do you want me to leave?’ asked the man, looking at the child’s father straight in the eyes.

They say that every single person in the room became quiet. The tension was unbearable, and all eyes were on the girl’s dad.

‘I don’t know who you are… But if you can save my child, do it. She’s nearly dead already,’ said the father, starting to cry.

‘No!’ screamed the mother, throwing herself over the sleeping child. ‘I’m not letting her go!’

The family talked to the father for a little bit more, and then they silently started leaving the room. They had to drag the mother outside. Was it crazy that they were willing to let the child go with a complete stranger? Yes. But they said that they felt unusual confidence in the man’s voice, and they had run out of options. Thirty minutes later, when the mother came back to the room, the only thing she found was an empty bed.”

“And that’s it?” asked Jovo.

“That’s it.”

“Who was the man?” demanded Anka.

“Wish I could tell you. In these parts of the world, people don’t like to dig too far into the supernatural.”