Children of the Street - [11]

6

The sky opened up that evening and dumped a torrent on the city. Just in time, Dawson cleared out the channels he had constructed to divert rainwater from the house.

With the first jagged flash of lightning, electric power went out on Dawson’s block and in the entire area between Awudome Circle and Kaneshie Market. It was lantern time. Dawson and Christine had decided to have kenkey with fish, the latter prepared by Christine without salt because of Hosiah’s dietary restrictions. They went traditional, using their fingers to eat from one large common bowl. It was a social and intimate way to take a meal, even more fitting by lantern light.

“This is all it takes to make me happy,” Dawson said between mouthfuls. “Kenkey and fish. And Malta.”

“The way you love kenkey, you’d think you were a Ga,” Christine said.

The Ga, Accra’s original people, had a legendary love of kenkey, but Dawson was half Ewe and half Fante. Nevertheless, he was fluent in Ga, as well as Ewe, Fante, and Twi, which took care of most of the lower half of Ghana. He had only a rudimentary knowledge of Hausa, one of the major languages spoken in the north.

As they talked, Dawson was putting up a cheerful front, but a lump formed in his throat every time Edith’s words from earlier that day came back to him. I’m so sorry. They turned it down.

When was he going to tell Christine? Tonight?

Hosiah let out a cheer as the lights suddenly came back on. While Christine washed dishes, Dawson took him to have his bath in preparation for bed.

As Dawson was toweling him dry, Hosiah asked, “Daddy, if the hole in my heart gets bigger and bigger, will I stop growing?”

“No, that won’t stop you from growing.”

“I want to be big and tall like you.”

“You will. Probably even taller.”

He was thrilled. “Really?”

“Mm-hm. Your ears dry?”

Hosiah checked. “Yes.”

“No little tadpoles inside?”

Hosiah cackled as he went to brush his teeth. I want to be big and tall like you. What if he never made it? Dawson turned away, pretending to fuss with the towels. His forehead was furrowed and his lips tight as he gulped his emotions down.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, champ?” Dawson’s voice wobbled just a bit.

“Do you catch a lot of bad people?”

“I try to.” He came to the boy’s side. “Don’t forget your back teeth.”

Hosiah said something unintelligible through toothpaste foam.

“Finish brushing first,” Dawson said.

When Hosiah was toothpaste free, he asked his question again. “What happens to the bad people when you catch them?”

“We send them to jail for a while, and then one day they go before a judge and he decides if they were really bad and need to go to prison.”

“Oh.”

“Come on. Story time.”

On the way to the bedroom, Hosiah asked, “How come when I’m bad I don’t get a judge too?”

“You know why?”

“Why?”

Dawson suddenly swept Hosiah up onto one shoulder, and the boy shrieked with laughter.

“You know why?”

“Why?” Hosiah shouted.

“Because I’m the judge too.”

Dawson delivered him to bed in a giggling bundle. Hosiah cuddled against him as he read, for probably the one thousandth time, an Ananse the Spider story.

“Was that good?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Lights out. Mammy will come up in a minute.”

He kissed Hosiah twice.

In their own bedroom as they got ready to turn in, Dawson asked Christine, “Can we go to Agbogbloshie together tomorrow afternoon to see what we can do about getting Sly into school?”

“Sure, if you like.” She got into bed. “Oh, wait a minute. I have to pick Hosiah up early from school. They have a half day.”

“What about your friend? She can’t take him for the afternoon?”

“No, she’s busy.” Hesitation. “The only alternative is for Mama to watch Hosiah till we get back.”

Dawson got into bed as well but didn’t respond.

“Dark,” she pleaded. “You can’t punish her anymore.”

Almost a year ago, Dawson’s mother-in-law, Gifty, had taken Hosiah to see a traditional healer to “cure” the boy’s heart ailment. She had done this without the consent of either Dawson or Christine. In the process of the healer’s “cleansing ritual,” Hosiah was accidentally struck on the head, opening a gash in his scalp. Dawson had never forgiven Gifty.

“Look,” he said, “it’s not as if she hasn’t been able to see Hosiah at all.”

“But that’s strictly my taking him over to visit her together. You don’t want me to leave him there alone with her. You know she loves having him for the day. This is killing her.”

Dawson blew his breath out. “All right,” he said resignedly, “maybe I’m being too hard on her. You can drop Hosiah off at her house tomorrow.”

“And from now on she can babysit him when needed?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Christine gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. She’s going to be thrilled.”

Like a lightning bolt, a thought flashed through Dawson’s mind and made him cringe. What if my mother-in-law outlives Hosiah?

“What’s the matter?” Christine asked him at once. “What was that look?”

He brought her closer.

“Dark, what’s wrong?”

“Edith called me today,” he said.

“I see.” Christine became very still. “So they turned the petition down.”

Dawson nodded.

They both stayed silent for some time.