One Small Boy And A Turkey

One Small Boy And A Turkey

  Copyright 2014 Tim Candler

  One Small Boy and A Turkey

  When the mulberry tree was in bloom the flies were happy, but when the mulberry tree was in fruit the officer's nurse found reasons to be irritated. She asked Philemon to keep the birds away from the washing line and Philemon gave this important task to me. Indeed, ever since she had arrived, the officer's nurse had introduced an element of distress into our lives. She spoke no language other than her own, and from the beginning it appeared she was mostly impatient.

  There'd been a ceremonial occasion amongst the Europeans. They had dressed in their finest. The officers nurse had worn white flowing robes, and the officer's nurse was veiled. There was much feasting and drunkenness. The officer had used his long sword to cut into a sweet white cake, a little portion of which Philemon had been able to add to my ration.

  But when the officer and his nurse returned from their time away, Philemon soon became dour. His sovereignty in his kitchen challenged by a power he could do nothing about. One night behind the staff quarter I heard him tell the men he was ready to return to his clan, and this caused me a worry that made me sad to my soul. I had for too long managed with the idea that I was secure in Philemon's kitchen, and I had grown content. Now I was under the spell of the officer's nurse, which was a confusion, because who except the officer knew whether hers was an evil spell. Diligently I kept birds from the washing line, and I did so even when there was no washing upon the line, which seemed to amuse the officer's nurse.

  Philemon, however was not pleased with me. He said, "The officer's nurse is a plague which should not be encouraged." And I told him of my concern, which stemmed from a failure to understand what would happen to me if Philemon returned to his clan. He said, "Recall always that we are not a conquered people. Rather the Europeans are visitors. Sometimes unwanted."

  "I have never understood where they came from," I said. But Philemon when he had no answer to a question was inclined to smile at it.

  Then a strange thing happened. The officer was traveling and he had left his nurse by herself in the sanatorium. Philemon called me to the kitchen, I found him confronting the officer's nurse and clearly there had been a misunderstanding. Philemon was wearing one of the Officer's white shirts. The officer's nurse was holding a serving platter on top of which was a pillow, and loudly she would walk from the kitchen through the doorway into the dining room with the pillow held out in front of her as though it were an offering or a parade. In the dining room she would walk once around the large table before placing the platter on the table near to where the officer sat.

  "Help me here," Philemon said to me. "I fail completely to grasp what it is the officer's nurse wants from me."

  I could only admire the shirt Philemon was wearing. It was spotless, well starched and without a tear, and I asked him why he was wearing it. Grimly he told me the officer's nurse had forced it upon him. And he told me it itched his skin in a most uncomfortable way. It was strange to see him dressed up like that, but stranger still were the antics of the officer's nurse.

  She seemed quite insistent that we both pay good attention to her, which we both did with encouraging smiles. And then to my surprise she thrust the platter at me, and made me walk with it from the kitchen through to the dining room. I started to laugh, and when I did so the officer's nurse became sufficiently encouraged to persuade Philemon to follow my example. He took the platter with the pillow on top of it from me, walked with it from the kitchen through to the dining room, around the dining room table, laughing as he did so. While I think mine was a happy laugh, Philemon's laugh was tense because upon his shoulders lay the responsibility of comprehension.

  Behind the staff quarter that evening there was interest and concern expressed. Possibly the officer's nurse was lonely, the game with its associated laughter cheered her, because indeed when it was over she appeared more at ease with herself. But Philemon had a nagging doubt. He believed there was something he had failed to understand. When pressed, Philemon thought it was somehow associated with a gathering of Europeans that occurred in celebration of the Lord's birthday. A gathering he suspected which had now come to involve him dressed in one of the officer's shirts.

  Men laughed, when he said this. And even though I laughed too, I suspected Philemon was right.

  Some days later the officer returned with a large bird called a turkey. The bird was quite tame, it was not cunning, it had no sense of its own preservation, its wings had been clipped to prevent it from flying and I was to feed it amongst the chickens, guard it day and night against dogs and hyena. At night I would catch the turkey and close it up in a wooden cage, and so that nothing whatsoever might befall it, I slept beside it. People came from all over to look at the turkey and I would have to make certain that no one touched it, because it had an unfortunate habit of following anyone it suspected of having food.

  The officer's nurse could often be seen at her window staring at the turkey. Sometimes, during the morning when it was still cool, she would venture out and she would gesture at the turkey in a friendly way. The turkey would go up to her and cock its head, curious about her long golden hair, but always the turkey was a little nervous of her, and yet always the turkey would follow her round to the front part of the compound from where I would have to chase it, because the officer did not like to see foul in the front part of his compound.

  In preparation for the Lord's birthday the inside of the sanatorium was decorated with colorful paper, with special attention paid to the dining room. For the dining room a sheet was spread over the table and the table was made up with knives, spoons, forks and candlesticks. This done the officer's nurse yet again danced with her pillow and advised Philemon to do the same. Then that evening before the Lord's birthday celebration, Philemon and I slaughtered the turkey, its feathers and intestines were removed, and it was placed under cloth in the pantry.

  Behind the staff quarter Philemon described his anxiety. The Officer's nurse would be with him in his kitchen to prepare a meal for a noontime gathering of Europeans. She had a list of dishes that would require his presence in the kitchen from the moment of sunrise. The stove would have to be hot early so the turkey would cook. There was an assortment of canned food, which Philemon guessed the officer's nurse would insist upon opening herself, which would mean the cans would be dented and mangled. European children would be present, which was always alarming. But these things were manageable when put beside the performance expected from Philemon in those moments when he was to carry the pillow into the dining room. And he was to perform this strange task while wearing one of the officers white shirts.

  There was in me a confluence of emotions. I understood Philemon's shyness, because I felt this shyness in myself. For me the shyness was at the prospect of seeing European children. So, when the men behind the staff quarter teased Philemon I could not enjoy it. I listened to their laughter and I found myself wanting to defend Philemon, but I was invisible at these gatherings. Philemon, however, as he listened on to the men teasing him, began to understand the futility of his worries. And then, as the evening grew late he began to accept the indignity that would befall him at the gathering of Europeans. He went into the night, practicing his laughter.

  In the morning I carried wood for the stove, and when it was hot, so was Philemon's kitchen. The officer and his nurse were in good spirits throughout their breakfast. I left to feed the chickens, and when I returned, there was much activity. The officer's nurse, hot and red faced, issuing her instructions and Philemon taking to his tasks with increasing confidence as he came to realize that despite the quantities of food the festivity required, there was nothing novel to its preparati
on. The turkey was no more than a large chicken, which he would roast. The potatoes were to be peeled, boiled and mashed. The fresh greens were to be cooked long enough for them to be tender. Most everything else was to be removed from its can or its bottle and placed upon a serving dish. The officer's nurse was most enthusiastic and she took most of these tasks for herself, except for the turkey which she found hard to look at and was quite unable to touch.

  When the Europeans began to arrive in their vehicles, the officer's nurse left the kitchen to greet them and Philemon was left alone to ponder his stove, to make