Chapter 10

Mutambo—Dance

A few weeks later Priscilla got a call from Unashe just as she was finishing work on Friday.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Priscilla said.

“Not anymore. How about going to a soccer game?”

Priscilla agreed, and then sat staring into space. She was stunned.

“Who was that, Pri? You should see your face,” Julie said. Priscilla had forgotten she was at the office and that her co-workers were in earshot.

“What?” Priscilla sat up straighter and punched the escape button on her computer.

“When you were talking you looked like, I don’t know. Someone very much in love. Was that Mr. Chamu Tengani?”

“No. I’m done with his project. No. It wasn’t him.”

“Who then?”

“No one important. Listen, I have to finish this report.”

Julie walked away and Priscilla wondered at Julie’s words. Unashe was just a friend. Nothing more. And going with him to a soccer game was just for fun. Nothing more.

* * *

“That was a good game,” Priscilla said as she picked up the ice-cream cups they had eaten during the game.

“I’m glad you liked it. Should we go out and eat?” Unashe asked her.

“I’m paying this time. Especially since Caps won.”

They went out again that evening to the same restaurant, Vinola’s. He told her about the job he had just started in the same bank in which her sister, Rutendo, worked. They would be celebrating two things—his new job and the game. He was finally doing what he really wanted to do: work in the financial world.

“Banking is where the money is,” Unashe said after polishing off his steak and potatoes.

“You chose the right place.” Priscilla lifted her glass of sweet wine to him. A thoughtful look flashed across his face. Priscilla stared wondering at the sudden change in his eyes.

“Do you want to go somewhere after dinner?” Unashe asked, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

“Where?” Priscilla eyed him suspiciously.

“Not home.” There was mystery in his voice.

Priscilla looked at her watch doubtfully. It was almost 10 p.m. She wanted to go to her flat.

“It’s late.”

“Come on. It’s your first month of freedom. No parents breathing down your neck. Nobody in charge of you. Don’t you want to go somewhere you would never have gone before?”

“Coming here is new.” Priscilla looked around the room, the empty tables, the few waiters waiting for them to leave. She smiled at him, eyes half closed dreamily. “Wearing jeans and trousers is new for me because Baba forbids us from wearing them. It’s an adventure for me to be out at 10 p.m. eating dinner in a restaurant. I never did that before.”

Unashe looked down and hit the table, like a judge announcing a verdict. “That’s it, then. You need to try more new things. I think my job is to make sure you enjoy your freedom, because eating dinner in a restaurant can’t be your only big adventure. Come on.”

Unashe stood up and Priscilla got up slowly. They had paid their bill and had sat talking for over an hour. He waited for her to walk ahead and followed her to the car.

Unashe didn’t have to convince her too much. She somehow knew that Unashe could ask her to do anything and she would say yes. They walked out of the restaurant and got into Unashe’s car. It was amazing how quiet the streets were. Unashe was taking her somewhere. She wondered where it would be, but didn’t ask again. The surprise would be fun.

They drove through Samora Machel Avenue, and, from a distance, she could see the lights from the city twinkling mischievously at her. The homes they passed were dark and she imagined all the families sleeping peacefully. Unashe drove into downtown and stopped his car by the Sheraton Hotel.

“What’s going on, Unashe?” She shook her head. The thought of girls going to hotel rooms reminded her that Gilbert had taken Vimbai to a hotel, too, so long ago. She thought of sugar daddies and realized her opinion of hotels had been tainted by tales of old fat men taking young schoolgirls to such places to ruin their futures. “I’m not going to some hotel,” she told Unashe.

“It’s not that. There is a nice place inside where we can relax, meet up with friends and dance.”

“Is this a club?”

“It’s a nice, adult club. You’ll like it. Come on.” She remained seated, shaking her head. Unashe got out and walked to the passenger side. He opened her door.

“Come on. It’ll be fine.” He held out his hand to her and she looked into his eyes. They were warm, inviting, teasing but determined. His hand held out to her was calling to her and she reached for it and got out, holding on to his fingers tightly.

“Am I even dressed right?” She looked down at the black trousers and grey top she wore. Unashe glanced at her curly black hair and quickly down her slender body to her silver high heels.

“Of course. You always look great.”

She looked around at the elegant people walking towards the hotel. Maybe some of them were not headed to the club, but some other event being held at the hotel, she guessed. Either way she felt unsure as she walked next to Unashe through the door. She felt odd entering the dark place with him as if people could tell she didn’t belong there. The loud music and voices assaulted her senses immediately. At first glance, it seemed like an elegant place as she walked past tables and the bar and then to the dance floor.

Once they reached the dance floor, they stood side-by-side and watched people dance while the disco lights flashed on and off, on and off. Priscilla had to blink rapidly to adjust to the lights and the moving bodies. Unashe said something to her, but she didn’t hear him over the strong bass of the popular local song playing. He leaned close to her ear and repeated his question.

“Do you want to dance?”

She shook her head, looking at him.

“Why?”

“I can’t dance,” she yelled above the noise.

“Everybody can dance,” Unashe said. She shook her head again, her hair bouncing around her face. “Come, let’s sit and I’ll get you a drink.”

When Unashe left, Priscilla sat at a table right next to the dance floor. She felt a little uncomfortable looking around at the constantly moving people, who all seemed to be enjoying themselves, dancing as if their life depended on it. A young man in a striped shirt and jeans walked towards her and tried to talk to her but Priscilla turned away from him. Just before she stood up Unashe arrived with their drinks. He gave the other man a look and he moved away, holding up his hands but still watching Priscilla.

Priscilla took the drink. She already wanted to leave, but Unashe seemed eager to stay as he nodded his head to the music and smiled at her. Priscilla nearly jumped when she heard someone scream Unashe’s name.

“Unashe!”

“Chantel! Wow!”

Priscilla watched with surprise as Chantel threw herself at Unashe. “You have to dance with me.”

Her voice was loud above the song “This Is How We Do It”. A lot of the dancers were singing along waiving their hands in the air.

“Go ahead I’ll follow,” Unashe said. And Chantel was gyrating away from them, hands raised, dancing and singing along. Two other young women followed her. “This is our song!”

“Go ahead,” Priscilla said and nodded towards the group.

“Nah, let me stay with you.”

“No, don’t be silly. Just go on! I need to find the restroom anyway.” Priscilla looked around, trying to figure out where the signs were.

She stood up. “Go on,” she said. He rubbed her shoulder and left her to join the dancers. He was not too energetic, but still he was enjoying the music as Chantel danced around him, saying something and laughing.

Priscilla couldn’t understand how she felt. Bitterness filled her mouth like a rising volcano. The way he danced with Chantel and how she gazed at him made her head spin. He looked so relaxed while Chantel moved closer to him placing her hand on his arm, pouting, moving her hips this way and that.

Priscilla felt like a dud, like she was boring and hopelessly unsophisticated. Why was she sitting on the side while everyone else danced? Another song came and then she lost sight of Unashe as more people joined the throng. She tried to search for him, and then she stood up and started craning her head walking around the dance floor. By the third song and after five different guys had asked her to dance and she’d refused, she wasn’t feeling angry. She was fuming!

She started looking for the exit as a very strong beat from Brenda Fasi filled the room and caused the walls to vibrate. The dancers responded positively.

Priscilla walked towards the door, fighting the crowds of people, but she kept looking back, hoping she would find Unashe and catch his eye. She concluded that he was probably too busy dancing, gyrating and rubbing his body against Chantel and her crazy wild friends.

Once outside, she took a deep breath of the fresh air, wishing she had never agreed to this adventure. She felt alone, confused and out of her depth, and it was getting cold. She rubbed her arms, wondering what to do, then as if by magic a taxi stopped right in front of her, letting out a smartly dressed couple.

“Need a taxi?” the driver asked, smiling. He was a friendly, bearded man. He had just dropped off this couple, so he had to be legitimate.

Just as she was about to get in she heard Unashe call her name. She completely ignored him and got in.

“Drive away fast,” Priscilla ordered, glancing back to see Unashe stop by the door, staring after her. The driver seeming to sense her urgency and sped off, tires screeching. She settled back in her seat as the car drove off.

“Where to?”

“Eastlea.” Priscilla gave him the directions then watched the meter with wide eyes. She just had twenty dollars.

As she sat back on the seat, she told herself that spending time with Unashe was probably not a good idea. They clearly didn’t enjoy the same things, and as far as she was concerned he was not the safest person to spend time with. He was irresponsible, immature and certainly not someone to take seriously at all. She needed to cut him from her life without ruining their old friendship. Just get rid of him and let him spend time with Chantel and all those girls who went to private schools and had no worries and responsibilities. She knew that Chantel’s parents were rich, gave her a car to drive and even took her on vacations to South Africa. She was his type of woman.

When she arrived home, she was surprised to see Unashe standing by his car waiting for her. He must have driven like a maniac through the streets of Harare to get to her flat before her. He walked towards the taxi driver and took out his wallet.

“How much?” he asked after a quick glance at Priscilla. He watched her walk towards the flat and disappear around the corner to the entrance. Unashe yelled to the driver to keep the change and ran after her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Going home. Why don’t you do the same?” She continued to walk, heels clicking on the cement.

Unashe followed her to her door, and when she was about to close the door in his face he blocked it with his hand.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Priscilla just shook her head, walked into her lounge, and threw her purse on the floor. Surprised by what she was feeling and embarrassed to acknowledge it, she realized it was time she faced her feelings and Unashe. “I just wanted to go home, okay?”

Unashe shook off his jacket angrily. “So, you should have told me. Why didn’t you just say so?”

“How was I supposed to find you? I looked for you!”

“I looked for you, too,” Unashe said in a reasonable voice, trying to calm her down. He moved towards her, but she moved away from him. “What you did was dangerous. Going into that taxi alone.”

“It’s a cab,” she said petulantly.

“I know, but you are a girl alone with some man you don’t even know. Don’t do that again.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself, Unashe. I don’t need you or anybody else.”

They stared at each other. Unashe was surprised at her anger, and she seemed shocked, too. He took a deep calming breath, then continued.

“I know you don’t need anybody. You’re still mad at me. What can I do? I’m sorry I took you to that place.”

“And left me.”

He was about to argue, she could tell, but he changed his mind. “Okay. I left you for a minute. Do you forgive me?”

She looked at him, his hands held closely together as in prayer. She had no right to be mad. She had told him to go and dance. Insisted that he do so. But she had been blazing with jealousy. She knew it now and it was ridiculous. He could be with whomever he wanted.

“Fine. I just don’t think that’s my kind of place.”

“Because you don’t dance? Why don’t you dance?”

“I never have. I’ve never felt like there was a reason to.”

“Let me teach you. It’s easy.” Unashe reached for her hands, but she laughed and shook her head.

“No, I can’t. There’s no music here.”

“Just follow my lead. Step to the side like this,” Unashe said and pulled her hands. He moved a little and she still shook her head, standing straight as a tree.

She remembered seeing him dance like that with Chantel, and finally followed his move to the right and then to the left.

“That’s right,” he said, but groaned when Priscilla shook her head again and then moved to lean against the wall.

“That’s enough,” she said.

“I’m sorry you were upset. I never want to hurt you. I really want to be here for you. I want to help you settle in.”

“Thanks. It’s nice.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I left.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I know a place where you’ll like more than tonight.”

“Really? I don’t know if I want to go anywhere with you.”

“Yeah, you do. It’ll be good. I have to erase this whole mess from your mind.”

Priscilla didn’t say anything. Her anger was gone and now when she looked at him and he looked at her, his brown eyes looking dark and sincere, she felt her body react and she couldn’t think of a thing to say. She noticed his face turn serious, too. Seconds that seemed like minutes went by. Finally, Priscilla looked down at her feet. Unashe remained standing where he was and now it seemed she couldn’t look at him without noticing so many details about him. How he looked in his dark shirt unbuttoned at the top and dark jeans and shoes. His neck, his ears, the shape of his head and his slightly curly short dark hair. Everything seemed heightened, and her mouth dried up.

“I’m sorry again about the club,” he said at last. ”I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sometimes. It’s okay when you just want to get away from home and meet up with friends.”

“I didn’t know anyone there,” Priscilla admitted. She walked to the window and glanced outside and then closed the curtain. She turned to him again.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were just trying to entertain me. It’s very kind of you. I’m grateful.”

He had that look again. And then Unashe let out a frustrated sound, as if he was trying to blow out a stubborn candle.

“I better go home soon,” Unashe said with little enthusiasm. He was standing a few steps from her, hands in his pockets. “You can imagine Ma’s lecture about getting home late. She said she didn’t sleep. Said she wanted to call the police when I stayed here all night.”

“Oh. She was worried. I feel badly. She really loves you. You are all she has,” Priscilla said, twisting her fingers. She did remember Mukai also complaining to her about Unashe’s absence, suspecting a young woman. She didn’t want him to leave. It was so good when they talked and laughed together. It felt like a party to her, more than the club did. Now she realized why she hated the club. She didn’t want to share him with anybody else. She wanted him all to herself, which was so stupid of her. But she realized that he was working his way into her mind, under her skin, and she didn’t know how to shake him off.

“Cilla,” he said in his deep, wonderful voice. Whenever he called her ‘Cilla’ it sounded so intimate. So different. Especially now. His voice touched her skin and made it tingle with heat.

‘What?” The look in his eyes spoke to her. Did he have more secrets to reveal to her? Could she handle any more? Her heart was already racing.

“I think,” he began, but stopped and shook his head before focusing his eyes on her again. “Something is happening between us. I’ve always loved you, like a friend.” He paused for a second then rushed in; his voice gruff and earnest. “It’s the craziest thing, but it’s different now.”

Priscilla stared at him, stunned but knowing that her heart knew it. Her heart had been beating with those crazy feelings and she couldn’t fight it anymore.

“I love you,” she said simply, the heat turning into an inferno. She remembered seeing a fire on her way to the village near Mutare, the fire that ate up the whole countryside all the way up to the road. This feeling she had reminded her of that blaze, which was so strong and uncontrollable. She believed him, it was all over his face, his dark eyes had said it many times but she hadn’t known what the powerful message was, the silent communication that turned her knees to water. He was a few feet from her but covered the gap in a few strides. It all seemed so simple. He reached for her, held her close to him, kissed her full lips, kissed her again until they were both breathless, their breathing loud and heavy in the small room.

“I better go,” he said after moving back a bit, but he pulled her close again and they kissed deeply, sensuously. She had never felt like this in her life. No man had ever been that close and touched her in such a way. What wonder? She was drowning in his passion. She clung to him, all her independence was gone, her freedom tossed out the window. She felt irrevocably tied to him. Her words about not needing a boyfriend seemed like they were spoken by somebody else. Not needing anyone. Not needing this?

Unashe left her lips and their foreheads touched as he spoke with a voice that she didn’t recognize but that sliced through her skin and touched her core. “I suppose it’s okay for us, right. We’re not related at all. If Uncle Oliver was never your father…”

“He’s not,” she finished for him. This time she kissed him, as if sealing the new knowledge. She drank from his lips as if they were the sweetest wine, eyes closed, lost. She loved feeling his body with her hands, each texture new and fiery. After a while, they broke apart.

“I better go,” he managed to say, though he didn’t move away from her arms. She smiled softly, trying to catch her breath. “I don’t want to get carried away. Though, I already did.”

“It’s okay. Good night,” she whispered and he held her tightly, molding her to him and she loved it all. Loved the feel of him, his scent, his voice, his kisses. All of it. What were they going to do?