The silence in the shop was different tonight. It wasn't the silence of no electricity. It was the silence of a courtroom waiting for a verdict.
I sat on the floor of the Lab, my knees pulled to my chest. Liyen sat on the high stool behind the counter. She wasn't sewing. She wasn't praying. She was staring at the front door, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were yellow.
On the counter lay the fake receipt. Next to it lay the ledger.
"He has been gone an hour," I whispered.
"Hush," Liyen said.
"He took the wrench, Ma. If he hits Mr. Abang..."
"Your father is not a thug, Nkem," Liyen said, though her voice wavered. "He is a man protecting his investment."
"Abang is the Government," I said. "If Papa touches him, the police will come. The Gendarmes will come."
"Then we will deal with them," Liyen said. She stood up. She walked to the door and peered through the crack in the shutter. "But we will not let a thief steal your education."
I looked at the safe. The Seed was in there. 150,000 francs. We could have just paid. We could have eaten the loss. But Tashi had reached his limit. The truck. The vinegar. The darkness. The humility. The fake receipt was one insult too many.
Clank. A sound at the door. The padlock rattling.
Liyen unlocked the deadbolt. The shutter rolled up a few inches. Tashi ducked under.
He stood in the light of the kerosene lamp. He was breathing hard, but his clothes were clean. There was no blood. He reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the heavy steel wrench. He placed it gently on the counter. Thud.
Then he reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper. He smoothed it out on the glass.
It was a Treasury Receipt. Pink carbon copy. Official watermark. Received from: Tashi & Son. Amount: 15,000 CFA. Reason: Registration & Tuition Class 6. Date: September 1, 1999.
And at the bottom, the wet, purple ink of the Headmaster's official stamp.
"Papa?" I breathed.
Tashi sat down. He looked drained, like a battery shorted to ground. "He spent the money," Tashi said quietly. "He drank it. Or he paid his own debts. He didn't have a franc in the house."
"Then how?" Liyen asked, touching the receipt.
"I didn't ask for the money," Tashi said. "I asked for the truth."
Tashi poured himself a cup of water. His hand shook slightly.
"I went to his house," Tashi recounted. "He was eating. He saw the wrench. He tried to shout for his houseboy. I told him the wrench wasn't for him. It was for the plumbing."
Tashi smiled grimly.
"I told him I heard a leak. A big leak in the Class Six register. I told him I heard that half the class paid cash and have no receipts. I told him that if the Ministry Inspectors come on Monday and find my son has no receipt... I will show them where the leak is."
"You threatened to expose him," I said.
"I offered him a service," Tashi corrected. "I told him: 'Abang, if Nkem is expelled, I go to the Ministry. I bring the parents. We audit the books. But... if Nkem has a receipt... dated September 1st... then I saw nothing. The books are balanced.'"
Tashi tapped the pink paper.
"He sweated. He cursed. He told me I was a rat."
"And then?"
"And then he opened his briefcase. He took out the stamp. He backdated the receipt. He signed it."
Tashi looked at me. His eyes were dark.
"He hates us now, Nkem. Before, we were just poor. Now, we are dangerous. We hold his secret."
"He can't expel me," I said.
"No," Tashi agreed. "He can't expel you. But he can make you bleed. He can fail you. He can turn the teachers against you."
Tashi stood up. He picked up the wrench and put it back in the toolbox.
"The wrench did nothing," Tashi whispered. "It was the information. Junior gave you the weapon. I just pulled the trigger."
Monday, September 28, 1999 08:30 AM
The black SUV of the Ministry of Education parked in the schoolyard. Two Inspectors stepped out. They wore suits that cost more than my father's shop. They carried thick binders.
The school was silent. Headmaster Abang walked with them. He was sweating, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. He looked diminished.
They entered Class Six. "Stand!" Mr. Ngu shouted.
We stood. The Inspectors walked the rows. "Receipts on the desk," the Lead Inspector commanded.
I placed my pink slip on the wood. Next to me, Collins placed his (paid for by Tashi months ago). Jean placed his (soiled with dirt).
The Inspector walked down the line. He stopped at my desk. He picked up the receipt. He checked the watermark. He checked the date. He checked the stamp.
"Name?"
"Nkem Tashi, Sir."
The Inspector looked at his list. "He is registered," the Inspector said. He looked at Abang. "This one is in order."
Abang stood by the door. He looked at the Inspector. Then he looked at me. His eyes were cold. Dead cold. It was the look of a man who has been cornered in his own house by a shopkeeper with a wrench.
He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. You won the round, Rat. But you are still in my cage.
"Sit down," the Inspector said.
I sat. Junior turned from the front row. He saw the pink slip on my desk. He didn't smile. He just adjusted his glasses and faced the front. He knew what had happened. He knew the game.
School ended. The Inspectors left. Abang didn't come out of his office.
Mr. Ngu stopped me at the door. "Nkem."
I froze. "Sir?"
Ngu looked at me. He looked at my bandage. "The Headmaster spoke to me," Ngu said softly.
"About what, Sir?"
"About you. He said you are... disruptive. He said I should watch you closely. He said if you miss one step one comma, one decimal point I should mark you zero."
Ngu leaned against the doorframe. He looked tired.
"Why does he hate you, Nkem?"
I looked at Ngu. I thought about the bug in the flowerpot. I thought about Ngu's own eviction notice. I couldn't tell him.
"I don't know, Sir," I lied.
Ngu nodded. He didn't believe me. "Be careful," Ngu whispered. "He is looking for a reason. Don't give him one."
We walked home. The rain started. A light, miserable drizzle that turned the dust to mud.
We entered the shop. It was dark. Tashi was plating. He was using the customer's battery again this time a Toyota Corolla taxi parked outside for "electrical repair."
Fizzzz.
I watched the bubbles rise. We had survived the fee. We had survived the fine. We had survived the hunger. But the walls were closing in.
We had humiliated the Health Inspector. We had blackmailed the Headmaster. We had tricked the mechanics. We had lied to the distributor.
We were building a kingdom of secrets. And secrets are heavy.
"Papa," I said.
"Yes?"
"Abang told Ngu to fail me. If I make a mistake."
Tashi pulled a silver bolt out of the vinegar. He polished it with a rag.
"Then don't make a mistake," Tashi said.
He handed me the bolt. It was cold and shiny.
"We are not citizens anymore, Nkem," Tashi said. "Citizens make mistakes and get forgiven. We are combatants. Combatants get killed."
He looked at the safe. "We saved the Seed. That is all that matters."
I looked at the bolt. It was "German Spec." It looked perfect on the outside. But inside, it was just old, tired iron, waiting to rust again.