Dedication: For all les maudits who just want to bless
There was an entrance hall with inlaid metal and spiralling cornices. John stood smiling as Mayibuye began touching things, and watched the meander of the young, lighting a cigarette while noting the excellent height of the ceiling.
She had found a telephone with a circular dial and was studiously reporting on the lack of hospital supplies and how dear Lady Florence would never be able to cope. A bird had flown in and zigzagged with panic. She put the phone down sheepishly 'Did they have telephones then?'
John shook his head and smiled, 'Definitely not in a war field‘. He stroked her head and she smiled. ‘Who told you about Florence Nightingale?’ ‘It was on the TV. I would like to be called Nightingale. Nurses are lovely. She did maths as well. You know I can already add and tell the time!’ She had begun another traipsing and he led her to the courtyard, filled with gnarled fruit trees unpruned for decades. The door was jammed, and once open they stood inside watching the bird and willing it out. Mayibuye ran in and started flapping
‘Go Out! It’s a lovely day! Go Out!’
It didn’t work and she ran to her uncle exasperated and close to tears. ‘Why did he fly in here anyway? Silly bird.’ He lifted her up softly, and let her cling to his neck. ‘I’ll leave the door open.Come lets go wait outside –maybe he'll follow us.’ They found some grass to sink into and John started picking sheaths of it, dismembering it slowly – layer by layer. ‘I think they were all criminals in the crimea war. Only criminals have wars and kill babies. ‘
‘War is a complicated thing. People like thinking they’re better than other people. Another one of the nurses in the war was called Mary Seacole. Did they tell you about her?’ ‘No - they just talked a lot about cholera’
‘She was as brave and probably braver than Florence Nightingale. She came from Jamaica, like your grandpa. The British colonized Jamaica but she didn’t mind. She traveled to London with her own money to volunteer, and when they wouldn’t take her because she wasn’t English enough, she paid to go to the war anyway with her own money.She was right on the battle field. Florance Nightingale was days away, but she was right there, and she helped wounded soldiers from both sides.’
John picked a particularly succulent piece of grass and started to chew it. Mayibuye lay there, her hand creating permutions with the speckled shadows . She rolled onto her stomach smiling and started blinkering him giggling. 'What happened then?’ ‘She was broke and couldn’t get back to London let alone home, but it all turned out fine in the end’ ‘Was it because she was black?’ John grinned
‘I never said that - she was also a bit Scottish but people were even more old-fashioned then. You have a praying mantis on you. Careful.’ ‘Maybe I will be a nurse, and speak like that man on the cricket. Jamaican people sound nice. Look! It keeps flying back on me!‘ ‘For the bushmen it’s the god of fire. I think he likes the idea of you being a lady of the lamp.’ She lay looking at the green creature of bulbous eyes. She sat up arms flailing and began to dance.
‘I am Mayibuye Sunlight Blossom Nightingale! Look! -- the bird got out!’
