There was nothing to arouse an outsider’s suspicions that Sarith had a special interest in Rutger. She behaved normally with Elza. Just as had happened when they were girls, she would often look at Elza and exchange a comment about some guest or other. Exploding with laughter, “Have you seen Aunt There Blows the Wind? She has at least three on today.”
‘Aunt There Blows the Wind’ was a cousin of Rachel’s, an enormously rich Jewish widow who always wore broad silken dresses. At every movement she made, the silk skirts would rustle so that it sounded as if the wind was blowing through the house. That was why the girls had given her the nickname ‘There Blows the Wind’. Or Sarith would whisper in Elza’s ear, with a giggle, “Have you seen Noso? His nose is looking extra large today and he’s always wanting to hold my hand.” And then Elza understood that Sarith did this only so as not to arouse suspicion. Aunt Rachel had decreed that there must be a large ball, for what was a celebration without a ball? And so there was dancing on the third day there.
The musicians played. Just as at Elza’s wedding, everywhere was lit with Chinese-style lanterns and the guests sat at tables on wooden benches, the ladies in beautiful gowns and with artificially exaggerated hair-do’s, the gentlemen in their most formal evening attire. Elza saw how Sarith stood near to Rutger at the beginning of every dance, and said something to him, whereupon they would go and dance together.
Elza went to the house and sat on the veranda, watching the dancing couple. When the music stopped and most of the people went to sit down, she saw how Rutger remained standing and began a conversation with a number of men. Five men were standing there in a circle, deep in conversation. Watching her husband, it struck Elza how quickly Rutger had adapted to this country. He’s become a real Suriname man, she thought, and when she looked who the men were who were talking with Rutger, she realized that they all had more than one woman. Each of them had a concubine or mistress somewhere in Paramaribo alongside his legally wedded partner. Bitterly she thought – yes, in this, too, he is a real Suriname man: he has two women as well.
The music began again and she saw how Sarith approached the circle of men and said something funny, for they all started laughing. Elza saw, too, how Sarith took Rutger’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the dancers, calling back to the group, “I’ll take this one for the time being.”
Elza closed her eyes briefly and went indoors. She went through the large front hall into the rear of the house and went to stand there on the back veranda. In the distance she could see the faint lights in the slave huts and hear the dull beat of the drums. In the corner of the rear veranda she saw the old hammock that had been hanging for years and years between two posts. That was the corner where she and Sarith had always been sitting or lying together in the hammock, talking, laughing, giggling, telling each other stories or things that had been happening. How many hours had they spent together in that hammock? Sarith and Elza, Elza and Sarith, the inseparable pair.
Elza lay her head dejectedly against one of the posts, when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and a voice saying, “What’s up with my little misi, then?”67
“Ashana, oh Ashana!” Elza lay her head on Ashana’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn’t contain herself any longer, but could only sob, “Ashana, Ashana!”
Ashana led her to the old rocking chair that stood on the other side of the veranda, sat down and sat Elza on her broad lap. The same rocking chair where Ashana had rocked her misi to sleep as a small child; the same rocking chair where she had always sat with her misi on her lap, when she was sad or in pain, or just wanted to feel secure. Now she sat again in this rocking chair, and rocked and soothed her misi. No question here of mistress and slave, just a child who was sad and who sought love and security in the arms of she who, she knew, had always provided that: the most trusted, the most cherished, her Ashana. Here was simply a mother who wanted to watch over her most adored child and protect her, who wanted to banish all sadness and all perils from this child’s life. “Shush, my darling, calm yourself now,”68 came Ashana’s soothing tones. Elza would never know how much Ashana really knew and how much she just assumed, but that did not matter. The fact was that she felt Ashana’s arms around her, ever trusted and ever loving.
“Elza, Elza, where are you now?”
That was Rutger’s voice. With long strides he came through the front room.
“Here,”69 called Ashana. Rutger came onto the lighted rear veranda and looked on the scene with amazement. Elza like a little girl on Ashana’s lap? He was just about to tease her when he saw that she was weeping.