The Heart of a Woman - Maya Angelou [116]
I reveled in the rustle of discomfort. They asked me and I told them.
Joe Williamson clapped his hands. “All right, Sister Maya has spoken. I call upon Vus's defense.” In a snap, queries were directed at me.
“Have you kept yourself clean?”
“Do you refuse your husband his marital rights?”
“You are an American, after all; how well can you cook African food?”
“Do you curse and act unbecoming?”
“Do you try to dominate the man?”
“Do you press him to have sex when he is tired?”
“Do you obey him? listen to him carefully?”
I answered every question with openness and sass. The sooner they rejected me, the sooner this odd ritual would be over. I would be free or get whatever was coming to me.
When I finished responding, Joe turned to my squad. Their interrogation of Vus was weak and without heart.
“Do you love her?”
“Have you provided for her?”
“Do you satisfy her?”
“She had a child when she came to you. Have you tried to give her more children?”
“Do you want her?”
Vus answered honestly and quietly.
There was a hiatus when he finished while Joe called for drinks for the crowd. We remained seated, holding fresh icy glasses.
Joe began to prance in the clear plot of floor. Dainty, sure and masculine.
“It seems to me, brothers and sisters, that Maya is in the right. Her objection is stronger than our brother's reply. I suggest that in this palaver our brother is the loser.”
He turned to Vus's supporters.
“Do you agree?” When the heads nodded, for the first time that night friendliness and smiles returned to the faces of my confidantes.
Joe went to stand in front of Vus, an arm's reach away.
“Bro Vus, it is decided that you are in the wrong, and Sister Maya is in the right. Do you agree?”
Vus lowered his large head in assent.
Joe bowed, taking the agreement, and continued.
“You must provide drink for everyone who has met here tonight. You must bring a lamb or goat for us all to chop.” A rampage of laughter followed the pronouncement but was quelled with Joe's next words: “And our sister has the right to leave you.”
Silence settled on the shoulders of the listeners. Falling from the air like particled smog.
Joe faced me. “Sister, you have done well. You have sat through African palaver and you have won. Now you may leave.”
I was wrung dry by the ritual and only a little pleased by Joe's statement that now I had the right to leave. I never thought I needed anyone's approval but my own.
Joe stepped up to me, close enough for me to see clearly the whites of his eyes.
“Now, sister, now that the triumph is in your hands, now that people from six countries agree that you can leave your husband, and no guilt will fall on your head. Now. Now in your position of strength, we throw ourselves on your mercy.” The group responded with jubilant laughter.
“We ask you, from your righteous pinnacle, would you please give the man one more chance?”
I looked at Banti, who instructed me with a nod. Kebi gave me a small smile. Margaret Young, my Nigerian friend, lifted her perfect eyebrows. I should say yes. I hadn't decided where to go, I had no date to leave, and if Joe was right, which I suspected, if I acted graciously, my name in Africa would be golden.
“Stay six months. Sister, give the man six months.”
I looked at Vus. He was anxious. I knew immediately that his concern had less to do with me than it had to do with his repute. He had never knowingly or wittingly mistreated me. I could stay with him six months.
I said, “I will stay.”
Chairs scraped the floor. Vus took me in his arms, and whispered. “You are a generous woman. My wife.”
Joe Williamson shouted, “This time, we party. We wait for the fatted calf, but now we drink and celebrate the reunion of our brother and sister. We toast Mother Africa, who needs all her children.”
CHAPTER 19
Guy graduated from high school and then took a knapsack and joined Egyptian friends for a trek in the Sahara. My friendship with Kebi and Banti became stronger. More women were hired in my office and some found my presence incongruous