The Colour of Gold (32 page)

"Are you Mister
Desai's wife?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. Is he
going to be okay?" Fatima asked.

"We don't know
yet." the doctor replied. "I've stabilised him and cleaned the
wound as best I could. I've managed to get your husband into one of
the operating theatres. Only after the surgeon has seen the wound
will we know what to expect. There may be internal bleeding and
some other complications. Now, will you please move aside so that
we can get your husband onto the stretcher and take him to
surgery?"

Fatima climbed
out of the back of the taxi, struggling to hold back her tears. She
was terrified that Bala might die. She watched anxiously as the
doctor and nurse carefully lifted Bala out of the taxi and placed
him on the stretcher. She became aware of the three black men who
had brought Bala to the hospital also watching apprehensively as
Bala was wheeled away.

"You'd better
go with them, Misses Desai." one of the men said. "You need to be
with him."

"Of course."
Fatima said. "But what about the three of you? How can I ever repay
you for your kindness? Please let me pay you something."

The man waved
his hand.

"We don't need
any payment." he said. "We only did what anyone would have done
under the circumstances. Your husband's life was in danger and
we're glad that we could help. Now, go with your husband. We will
pray for him and you."

Tears streamed
down Fatima's cheeks as she looked at the three black men. They
were obvious not well off and yet they had sacrificed their time
and money to help a stranger.

"Thank you, and
may God bless you." she said, touching the man's arm.

Fatima turned
and hurried after the doctor and nurse as they wheeled the
stretcher through the entrance to the casualty section and into the
hospital.

"You'll have to
wait in the public waiting room." the doctor told Fatima. "It's
very crowded but at least you'll be safe there. I'll try to keep
you informed as to your husband's condition."

Fatima stepped
up to the stretcher. She bent down and kissed Bala gently on his
forehead.

"Oh, Bala." she
whispered. "I love you so much. And so does Salona. Please get
better and come back to us."

***

"I've got bad
news for you, Mister Zuma." Bogdan Vodnik said to Isaiah as they
sat down at one of the white tables on the pavement of the
continental coffee shop in Hillbrow. "The Security Police are onto
you and me. I've just spent a harrowing week at John Vorster Square
and unfortunately I was forced to inform them of my association
with you and your organisation. I tried to resist but I was not
strong enough and they broke me."

Isaiah watched
the white man sitting opposite him closely. He could plainly see
the results of the man's interrogation at the hands of the security
police; the dark patches below his eyes, the haunted look in his
eyes as if he expected to be hurt or even killed at any moment, and
the gauntness of his body. The man had obviously undergone a harsh
and frightening experience. His whole countenance implied
defeat.

Isaiah felt his
hatred for the white regime that dominated his people well up
within him and he experienced a strong feeling of sympathy for the
man sitting at the table with him. The man wasn't even a South
African citizen and now he had been forced into a situation that
put his life in danger no matter what he now did. Regardless of
which side he took, the side of the white government or the side of
the freedom fighters, it was inevitable that he would eventually
pay the ultimate price. He had been trapped in a war that really
had nothing to do with him.

"From what
you've just told me, it seems that our enemies are aware of my
connection with Umkhonto weSizwe." Isaiah said. "And yet I have not
been arrested. Why?"

"I'm ashamed to
tell you that, not only have I betrayed you and your organisation,
but I have also been forced to work with your enemies." Bogdan
replied. "I think that the reasons why you haven't yet been
detained are firstly, that they want to curtail your military
operation and, secondly, they're hoping that you will lead them to
your superiors."

Isaiah
nodded.

"I think that
you're quite right about them wanting me to lead them to my
superiors," he said, "but how are they planning to curtail our
military operations?"

"The police
have instructed me to provide you with detonators supplied to me by
them and not by my usual suppliers." Bogdan replied. "I've no doubt
that the detonators will be faulty in which case the bombs that you
produce will not explode. The police have warned me to tell you
that the detonators came from my suppliers so that you won't
suspect any trickery."

"And so, by the
time that we realise that we've been tricked they are hoping that I
will have led them to our leaders." Isaiah said, his face grim.

"Exactly."
Bogdan said. "I think that they are also hoping that when you
realise that I was part of the trickery, you'll eliminate me and
save them the trouble."

"And now that
you've decide to betray them and not us, what do you think they'll
do?" Isaiah asked.

"Probably
eliminate me themselves or re-arrest me and charge me with
treason." Bogdan replied. "And this time, I've no doubt, they won't
offer me a way out. I'll either be imprisoned for life or they'll
hang me."

"So what are
you going to do?" Isaiah asked. "Skip the country?"

"I can't."
Bogdan said. "The police confiscated my passport and I have to
report to them one a week. The minute I don't report to them or
your bombs continue to explode, they'll watch all the border posts
and start searching for me. I'm trapped here. Getting out of the
country without some kind of help is impossible."

"So you want
the A.N.C. to help you?" Isaiah asked.

"Well, the
A.N.C. got me into this predicament in the first place." Bogdan
said. "You forced me into this by blackmailing me and using your
enemy's laws to do so."

Isaiah
nodded.

"I suppose we
did." he said. "But it's not up to me to make decisions of this
kind. I will obviously have to speak to my superiors. Do you have
any military experience?"

"No." Bogdan
replied. "I left Yugoslavia before doing my military service."

"Is there any
way that you believe that you could be of assistance to us?" Isaiah
asked.

"The only thing
that I can think of is my ability to acquire illegal items." Bogdan
said. "I have quite a vast network of contacts. Perhaps I could
help your organisation in that way. I've no doubt that there are a
great many illegal items that you need that I could get for
you."

"That's
possible." Isaiah conceded. "Okay. I'll speak to my superiors as
soon as possible. In the mean time I want you to try and stall the
police. I've no doubt, from what you've told me, that right now we
are under surveillance so you must pretend to them that you are
still working for them and that I will shortly be placing an order
for equipment to make bombs. But you must understand that I'm in no
position to grant you the help that you require. That decision lies
with my superiors."

"I understand."
Bogdan said. "And I'm trusting that you'll do your best to help
me."

"I'll do that."
Isaiah said.

***

Fatima's eyes
opened as the sound of the doctor noisily clearing his throat woke
her. At first she struggled to orientate herself and then the
memories of Bala's injury and her frantic trip to Baragwanath
Hospital flooded into her mind. The doctor smiled as she stared up
at him from the worn lounge chair where she had been dozing.

"I've got good
news for you, Misses Desai." he said. "The surgery on your husband
was successful and he's resting comfortably in the I.C.U.
Fortunately the blade of the knife that caused your husband's
injury missed all the major arteries so there was minimal internal
bleeding. The injury has been repaired and there is very little
likelihood of any complications."

Fatima's eyes
welled with tears and she felt them trickle down her cheeks. She
wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"Oh! Thank
goodness!" she said, relief filling her whole body. "I'm so happy!
Thank you doctor and please thank the surgeon and his assistants
for what they've done. May I go and visit Bala?"

"Yes. I'll go
with you." the doctor said. "Your husband's asleep though, but you
can visit for a short while. He'll probably be in I.C.U. for
another day or two but I'm very worried about where I can put him
after that. There's a dire shortage of beds in the hospital at the
moment. I'm very embarrassed to have to ask you if it's possible
for you to bring a mattress to the hospital? The only solution that
I can offer at this time is a space on the floor of one of the
wards. I already have about fifty patients sleeping on the floors
of the wards. Unfortunately the hospital is seriously
under-financed by the government and even though we have been
making regular requests for more funds, nothing had been
forthcoming."

Fatima blinked
her eyes in astonishment.

"Yes, I suppose
I can." she said. "What about pillows, sheets and blankets?"

"Anything that
you can bring would be greatly appreciated." the doctor replied.
"If you can get them here by tomorrow afternoon that will be ideal.
I'm sorry, but there is nothing that we can do about this
situation."

As Fatima and
the doctor walked to the I.C.U. she glanced at her watch. It was
half past two in the morning. She wondered how Salona was coping at
Misses Jassat's house. She realised that there would be no taxis
available before daybreak.

"Is there a
telephone available?" she asked the doctor. "I need to 'phone my
daughter."

"Yes, you can
use the 'phone in my office." the doctor said. "But let's visit
your husband first. We'll only be there for a few minutes."

The doctor led
Fatima though the quite I.C.U. ward to where Bala lay on his back
in the bed, a transparent face mask covering his mouth and nose and
several tubes running from an I.V. bag and several machines
connected to veins in his one arm. The only sound apart from their
footsteps was the buzzing and pinging of the machines behind the
beds of the patients.

Fatima stared
down at Bala, her heart aching as she saw how helpless her beloved
husband was. He lay with his eyes closed and his head resting on
the pillow and his small body seemed so weak and fragile although
she knew that it housed a determination that she had always admired
and had been in awe of. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she found
her handkerchief in her pocket and wiped them away. She stepped
closer and gently touched Bala's thin shoulder.

"We love you
dearly, Bala." she whispered. "Please get better quickly and come
back home. We need you to be with us so badly!"

Bala stirred
slightly, as if he had heard Fatima's plea.

"Okay." the
doctor said quietly. "I think we should go. We mustn't disturb your
husband. He needs all the rest he can get."

Fatima 'phoned
Misses Jassat from the doctor's office. The kindly neighbour
assured her that Salona was sleeping peacefully and that she would
look after the child for as long as was necessary. Relieved Fatima
thanked the doctor for his kindness and returned to her chair in
the waiting room where she dozed fitfully until daybreak.

***

By the time
Fatima got back to Lenasia, collected Salona from Misses Jassat's
house, went home, bathed her daughter and herself and dressed in
clean clothes it was almost mid-morning. During this time she
couldn't stop worrying about what had happened to Bala's suitcase
of mended and altered clothing that he had been bringing back from
the shop when he was attacked, and what she would do if it was
lost. Would their customers demand compensation and, even if she
was able to pay them, would they continue to support Bala? And what
if some of them sued Bala? And would Bala be able to make up for
the money that they were losing while the shop was closed?

Fatima realised
that she would have to take over responsibility for the business
and the running of the household and also visit Bala in hospital
whenever she could. The doctor had been vague about how long Bala
would be incapacitated. Firstly though, she would have to close the
depot here in Lenasia and concentrate on repairing and altering the
clothes left at the shop as well as any new clothes that customers
brought in. That was their main source of income and she had to
ensure that it would remain so.

"Where are we
going?" Salona asked as she and Fatima left the house.

"We're going to
the shop in the Oriental Plaza, my dearest." Fatima said as she
took her daughter's hand. "While your daddy's in hospital you and I
will have see that everything continues as it should."

"When will
daddy be coming home?" Salona asked as she clutched her rag doll to
her chest.

"Soon, my
dear." Fatima replied. "Probably in about five day's time."

"Five days!"
Salona exclaimed. "That's such a long time! Will we have to go to
the shop every day?"

"Yes." Fatima
said. "But you can stay with Misses Jassat for some of those days.
Would you like that?"

"Yes!" Salona
said. "Misses Jassat's so nice and she gives me lots of sweets,
especially when I help her around the house."

"Ah! So that's
why, when you get home, you don't want to eat all your supper."
Fatima said, laughing.

"Well, she
doesn't really give me all that many sweets." Salona said. "There's
still plenty of space in my tummy for supper."

As Fatima
approached the train station she saw the uniformed guard standing
at the entrance gate and to her relief she saw Bala's suitcase
lying on the ground next to him.