Indigo (11 page)

Leonard and Sunday were standing off to the side but Jerry said, “What are you talking about? Who are the
they
you're referring to? Everyone knows Nigerian officials are corrupt. And what possible purpose could there be in all of this if not to cover up the theft of huge amounts of cash? Who wants Nigerian-American relations to be bad?”

Jerry saw the moon and the water and the ships sailing by. Lee Logar's face was darkly serious, but since he remained quiet Jerry sighed and spoke again. “All right, then,” he asked, “if they're so eager to make a fool out of me at the trial, why did they talk about deportation? And won't they get the same results if I leave? Won't I be seen as guilty for having run?”

Lee shrugged. “I think the deportation offer was made to see how you would react. I think they wanted to see what kind of man you are. Some of this, after all, is still dependent on you.”

But Jerry had had enough and he waved his hand. “So what is it?” he asked. “What is my government's position on me getting the hell out of here?”

“With you gone there won't be a trial and without a trial everything will stay confused, which, right now, your government considers to be to its advantage,” Lee said. “Also, in light of what went on at your arraignment yesterday morning it should be easy getting you out. After all, they have your passport and that judge believes he is dealing with a man of principle here.”

Jerry looked hard at the man. What the hell kind of thing was that to say? He was a man of principle! Lee Logar, however, heard the insult in his words and spoke again. “I only meant to say that they are now sure you have understood the elements of the trial the way they want you to and will stay because you think you can easily win.” He then added, “Anyway, I've almost completed the arrangements for your departure. All you have to do is wait to hear from me. And be ready to go, of course.”

When Leonard came back with Sunday, Lee left, going off toward the house. But when Jerry looked at Sunday sitting there, a large beer in his hand, he suddenly thought of the school again. Who would take care of the school once he was gone? He had missed too much work already, and he realized that what he had really been looking forward to was using the three weeks of Christmas vacation to catch up. Besides, if he left, where would he go and what would he do with the rest of his life? He had not yet begun to think of that.

Jerry suddenly decided that whatever Lee Logar thought, whatever plans his embassy had made, he would, after all, put off his decision about leaving until he had the school in order once again. And with that his mood suddenly lifted. Sunday called to one of the waiters, asking for more beer, and when Jerry looked at the man he said, “Let me tell you about my time in jail—have I got a story for you.”

Jerry pulled his chair around and put an arm across Sunday's broad back, and Sunday smiled, looking at Leonard Holtz so that Leonard would feel included in whatever it was that Jerry was about to say.

“Is good,” said Sunday. “Nothing so fine as a good story when the beer is coming and it is warm.”

The next days went by without incident. Jerry worked furiously to catch up on all that he'd missed, but he didn't speak to Lee Logar again, and though he saw Lawrence Biko daily, he let Lawrence continue working on the case as they had originally understood it, telling him only that for the moment he would not be running away. He lived his life, as a matter of fact, as if he were going to stay in Lagos running the school for years to come.

It wasn't until the students and teachers left on Friday, heading out to various holiday destinations, that Jerry began to feel at sea again. It was Christmas vacation and though the teachers gave him sympathetic looks, he could see their vacation smiles hidden beneath those looks. He roamed the campus alone over the weekend, and though he worked as hard on the following Monday as he would have had his teaching staff been around, by Tuesday he was beginning to lose his concentration. Joseph and his crew were still there, washing and painting the walls, but what did he really know of these men? He certainly couldn't talk to them about the decision he had to make, asking their opinion of what he should do. There was Jules, of course, but when he went home for lunch Jules seemed upset that he still had to work, while all the other stewards got three weeks off.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, Jerry found himself alone in his office, staring out the window at two large lizards on the wall and wondering what it meant to be ready to go at any time. Could he pack a suitcase, could he say his good-byes, a parting word to Joseph or Sunday, a farewell note to the teachers who were now gone, would he be allowed that much?

Without really thinking about it, Jerry realized that he had decided to run again. He couldn't face jail, nor could he think, for very long, about that fiasco of a trial. He really didn't think that this was an anti-American thing, he didn't believe Lee Logar, but he also could not grasp Lawrence's apprehensions, that “something is rotten in Denmark” sensibility, his attorney's poorly articulated fear. Jerry only knew that the truth of the moment, the one that he came to in the lonely clarity of his air-conditioned room, was that there was no one for him to go to, no one with whom he could discuss these things. Of course he knew that even if the teachers were on hand he would not confide in any of them—when Charlotte had died Jerry's interest in the act of personal confidences had pretty much died with her. But though he had always viewed that fact with a good deal of pride, by the time he left his office that night he had nevertheless decided that he'd kept his own counsel long enough. Five years was long enough.

Jerry locked the office door and had walked halfway across the empty school playground before turning back,'unlocking the door again, and copying Nurudeen's address from the student files. He then walked off the campus and down to one of the federal housing units across the street, the one in which Nurudeen lived. These buildings were all around the school, and though they were huge, sprawling things, he had no trouble finding the right one. He took a stairway to the second floor and walked along the outside passageway until he found the right flat. He quickly walked to the end of the corridor, but when he came back he stopped in front of the door, trying to listen. What if Nurudeen's father was inside? What if Nurudeen's stepmother was someone other than the Pamela he knew?

Since he was leaving the country all of this was foolishness anyway, and he had just about decided to let it go when the door opened and Pamela came out.

“Something's come up,” said Jerry Neal. “I think we will have to put off meeting again for a while.”

Good God, he thought, what an idiotic thing to say. As he stood there staring at her, he felt as though he might step back and fall over the railing, down to his death below. “I don't understand anything,” he said.

“It isn't what you imagine,” Pamela told him.

But how could it not be what he imagined? “Goddamn it,” he said, “how did you know about my sister-in-law?”

“Come inside,” Pamela said.

“I don't want to come inside! Who's in there? Is Nurudeen there? Is that father of his around?”

Jerry was quickly furious again. He'd been nothing but a stupid victim, a pawn.

But Pamela held the door calmly open, so he finally did step inside. “I am alone,” she said. “I guess it never occurred to them that you might actually come over here.”

“So you live here with Nurudeen's dad. You're the one who put the spell on Nurudeen and made him steal my lunch!”

It was such a silly-sounding statement that Pamela laughed. “Nurudeen's an imaginative boy, but no, that wasn't me, that was his grandmother.” She paused, suddenly serious again. “I should say that when his grandmother does something it should not be treated as a joke. I, by the way, am not his stepmother. I'm not a chiropractor either, I guess you know.”

“What are you then?” asked Jerry. “And what did you hope to gain by visiting me like that?”

Jerry had shouted, but the door was closed and his voice didn't carry far.

“Sit down,” said Pamela. “What can I get you?”

“I want the truth,” said Jerry, but he did sit down. There were only two chairs in the room. Now that he took a moment to look, in fact, he saw that the place was more like an office than anyone's home. He was flustered and stood up again. “I think I'd better go,” he said. “There's no point in this. I won't believe anything you say now anyway.”

“Suit yourself, I suppose,” Pamela said, “but I only lied a little, and I meant you no harm.”

“OK,” said Jerry. “How did you know about Marge? Let's start with that.”

“Easy,” she said. “Nurudeen's father's been screening your mail.”

Jerry hadn't expected such an answer and he paused, finally asking the real question. “Is this about stealing money or is there something else at hand?”

Pamela looked at him. “Your lawyer will handle all of that,” she said.

“Who is Nurudeen's dad?” Jerry asked. “And where is Nurudeen?”

“His father has been a great many things,” she said. “Once he was minister of health, another time he was Nigeria's ambassador to Mexico. He is now between posts and working very much on his own. Nurudeen is in Anthony Village, just off the airport road, living with his mom.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Pamela, just like I said.”

“And what are you to Nurudeen's dad?”

Pamela paused then before shaking her head. “Look,” she said, “none of this is over yet. I've already told you most of what I know.”

“Your job was to keep an eye on me? Find out what I was thinking, what I might do, right?”

“That's right,” she said.

“How could you do such a thing?”

Pamela sighed, then smiled. “I was asked to take one small part, to get to know you and see what you were up to. When Nurudeen's father intercepted Marge's note he saw to it that I got a lesson on what it is that chiropractors do. He knew I could convince you because I have lived in the United States. I have only recently returned, as a matter of fact.”

“Then you don't live here?”

“Certainly not,” said Pamela. “Nurudeen lived here when he was attending your school, and his father did too, on and off. Now that Nurudeen is gone this place more or less sits empty, but to give it up would be foolish. These places are hard to come by in the best of times.”

“Where do you live?”

“I live out in Anthony Village, too. I live with my son who is twelve.”

Jerry wanted more, but he couldn't think what to ask, and since he had a certain sense that she was now telling him the truth, he didn't want to press it.

“OK,” he said, sitting down again and finally speaking normally, “if what you have said is true then why are you here now? Why are you hanging around this flat alone?”

Pamela shook her head. “Look at the view this flat has of the school,” she said. “I was to stay here and be ready. If I received a call I was to go over and try to see you again. Make myself useful by staying in touch, making it harder for you to run, making it harder for those embassy friends of yours to take you away. I was to make myself interesting to you. Do you know what I mean by that?”

Jerry's heart swelled a little; he knew exactly what she meant by that—even now he was drawn to her but he had also heard that embassy comment of hers. Surely they had no idea that he'd been talking to Lee. He wanted to ask about that, but what he asked instead was, “What do they care if I run? They can find me guilty in absentia, without even taking the time for a trial. And who are ‘they'? Who in the hell are we talking about?”

Jerry closed his eyes. This was all too complicated. He tried to go over everything but he couldn't think.

Finally Pamela said, “Look, your trial date will soon be at hand, and I'm quite sure I'm not the only one watching the school. We will be lucky, as a matter of fact, if no one saw you coming over here today.”

Jerry heard the “we” she'd used and it pleased him. Still, if she had agreed so readily to spy on him in the first place, why was she turning around now and telling him what it was that she'd agreed to do?

“Tell me why you're speaking so frankly,” he said. “You wouldn't have if I hadn't caught you here.”

“I might have,” she said. “Such intrigue really doesn't suit my natural frame of mind. And though you may not think so, I'm taking a chance by talking to you now. This is not a game, Mr. Neal. This conversation, as a matter of fact, could get me into very hot water indeed.”

There seemed to be nothing more to say, nothing for him to do other than leave. She wouldn't tell him who “they” were, but though he told himself he was foolish, he believed everything she
had
told him. He was not, however, going to mention the escape. He only hoped that when she found out about it, she'd be happy for him and relieved.

“I think I'd better go,” he said. “If you like you may come to the school later, playing your part out, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes,” she said. “I think I would like that.”

Jerry knew he was stupid. He knew that when she showed up again he'd be gone. But he had wanted to find out that she wanted to come. He would carry that idea with him, thinking about it in Ghana and perhaps again in the U.S.A.

Early on Friday morning, December 23, Jerry got a note on embassy stationery telling him that he was to pretend that the school's copy machine had broken down and call the repairman to come and get it with his truck. Jerry did so immediately, and when he put the receiver down he sat for a long time, marveling at the plan. The empty space in the bottom of the copy machine, the space that had previously contained Joseph, would soon contain him.