Richard excused himself and came back with a bottle of brandy and gestured toward Odenigbo. “An American journalist gave it to me.”
Odenigbo stared at the bottle.
“It’s brandy,” Richard said, holding it out, as if Odenigbo did not know. They had not spoken since Odenigbo drove to his house years ago to shout at him. They had not spoken even after they shook hands today.
Odenigbo did not reach out to take the bottle.
“You can have Biafran sherry instead,” Kainene said. “Possibly more suitable for your tough revolutionary liver.”
Odenigbo looked at her and there was a small, sneering smile on his face, as though he was both amused and annoyed by her. He stood up. “No brandy for me, thank you. I should get to bed. I have quite a walk ahead of me, now that Manpower has moved to the bush.”
Olanna watched him go inside. She did not look at Richard.
“Bedtime, Baby,” she said.
“No,” Baby said, and pretended to focus on her empty plate.
“Come right now,” Olanna said, and Baby got up.
In the room, Odenigbo was tying his wrapper around his waist. “I was just coming to put Baby to bed,” he said. Olanna ignored him.
“Sleep well, Baby, ka chi fo,” he said.
“Good night, Daddy.”
Olanna placed Baby down on the mattress, covered her with a wrapper, kissed her forehead, and felt the sudden urge to cry at the thought of Ugwu. He would have slept on a mat in the living room.
Odenigbo came and stood close to her and she wanted to back away, unsure what he was trying to do. He touched her collarbone. “Look how bony you are.”
She glanced down, irritated by his touch, surprised to see how it jutted out; she did not know she had lost so much weight. She said nothing and went back to the living room. Richard was no longer there.
Kainene was still at the table. “So you and Odenigbo decided to look for a place?” she asked. “My humble home is not good enough?”
“Are you listening to him? We didn’t decide anything. If he wants to find a place he can go ahead and live there alone,” Olanna said.
Kainene looked at her. “What is the matter?”
Olanna shook her head.
Kainene dipped a finger in palm oil and brought it to her mouth. “Ejima m, what is the matter?” she asked again.
“Nothing, really. There is nothing I can point at,” Olanna said, looking at the bottle of brandy on the table. “I want this war to end so that he can come back. He has become somebody else.”
“We are all in this war, and it is up to us to decide to become somebody else or not,” Kainene said.
“He just drinks and drinks cheap kai-kai. The few times they pay him, the money goes quickly. I think he slept with Alice, that Asaba woman in our yard. I can’t stand him. I can’t stand him close to me.”
“Good,” Kainene said.
“Good?”
“Yes, good. There’s something very lazy about the way you have loved him blindly for so long without ever criticizing him. You’ve never even accepted that the man is ugly,” Kainene said. There was a small smile on her face a
nd then she was laughing, and Olanna could not help but laugh too, because it was not what she had wanted to hear and because hearing it had made her feel better.
In the morning, Kainene showed Olanna a small pear-shaped vial of face cream. “Look at this. Somebody went abroad and brought it for me. My face creams finished months ago and I’ve been using that horrible Biafran-made oil.”
Olanna examined the pink jar. They took turns dabbing the cream on their faces, slowly, sensually, and afterward went down to the refugee camp. They went every morning. The new harmattan winds blew dust everywhere, and Baby joined the thin children who ran around with their naked bellies wreathed in brown. Many of the children collected pieces of shrapnel, played with them, traded them. When Baby came back with two bits of jagged metal, Olanna shouted at her and pulled her ear and took them away. She hated to think that Baby was playing with the cold leftovers of things that killed. But Kainene asked her to give them back to Baby. Kainene gave Baby a can to store the shrapnel. Kainene asked Baby to join the older children making lizard traps, to learn how to mat the palm fronds and place the cocoon full of iddo ants inside. Kainene let Baby hold the dagger of the emaciated man who paraded the compound, muttering, “Ngwa, let the vandals come, let them come now.” Kainene let Baby eat a lizard leg.