Hunter is one of my favorite diarists, mainly because of his tendency to make a point with storytelling. I've been gently and politely chided for posting diaries of a storytelling nature, even though based on true experiences. Too many words. Not in keeping with the purpose of this site. But here I go again...
The following story is based on actual experiences and was written to express how the echoes of war persist long after guns fall silent. If this story helps feed the anti-war sentiments of a single person's soul, then I submit that this diary is in keeping with the purpose of this site.
A pink neon motel sign boasted heart shaped bath tubs. Cassie yawned and said "I want this day to go on forever." She was still wearing the honeysuckle crown that I had made during our picnic. I parked the car in front of the motel office. After I registered, the manager said drinks would be being served in the garden area later that evening.
We took a long bath together in the heart shaped tub. We dried off. Cassie put the wilted crown back on her damp hair and lay on the bed. I massaged her feet with rose scented lotion from a little bottle that I found in the bathroom. I saw goose bumps on her arms and thighs. I covered her and held her until she fell asleep. I took the crown off and put it in the drawer of the nightstand. I couldn't sleep. After a few hours passed Cassie moaned and cried a little, as if having a bad dream. I caressed her until she was quiet again.
I decided to visit the garden. A women who said she was the manager's wife was there alone. A fountain splashed in a water garden. Clumps of pampas grass nestled against a gazebo. Honeysuckle covered a lattice on one side of the gazebo. I told the woman about the crown and how Cassie kept wearing it even though it was half dead. She invited me to make a new one. I collected lengths of vine, each loaded with flowers. We sat in the gazebo and talked about the garden while I wove the crown. I wove a necklace and a bracelet from leftover pieces of vine.
Cassie strolled across the lawn and joined us. I introduced her to the woman. Cassie said hello and then looked at me and said, "I woke up and missed you. I couldn't find the crown." Then she saw what I made. Her eyes glistened with tears. I set the new crown of flowers on her head. She put on the bracelet and the necklace. She kept smelling the flowers on the bracelet. I looked at the woman and she nodded in approval. The woman excused herself and left us alone.
I asked Cassie if she had a bad dream. She grimaced and said, "I did. I dreamed about one of my last nights in Uganda. I was fourteen. My dad's relief work was getting more and more dangerous." Cassie leaned over a railing, looked up and said, "The stars in Uganda are much brighter. There are more of them and the constellations are different too." When she turned back I watched a tear fall and leave its shiny trail on her cheek. She said, "In Uganda, domestic help was cheap. Our maid was a 16 year old girl named Masiko. She was forced to work after her husband was killed by rebel soldiers. Masiko said that her husband had been a rich man but that she was his fourth wife and only the first wife has rights to a husband's property. Masiko told me that her father didn't want to pay the brideswealth of five goats required to get her another good husband. Besides, she wasn't a virgin anymore. He told her that no one wanted her."
"We grew closer and closer. Masiko was my best friend. We tried to teach each other different things. I helped her with her English. She taught me some Luganda." Cassie looked at me with an exaggerated smile and said, "Ki kati Masiko." She lowered her voice and spoke with an accent meant to mimic Masiko's reply, "Ki kati Cassie." She said, "Ki kati means hello or what's up."
"My father was sometimes days late coming home from his trips. Masiko stayed with me, sometimes through the night, until we got word that he was safe. Masiko told me all about boys and sex. Sometimes I was allowed to go with her and a driver who took us to a nearby town to do the household shopping. On those trips I learned about the lives of Ugandan women. One time on the way home we stopped in Masiko's village. Some of the villagers greeted me by name. When I replied 'Ki kati?', they all smiled."
Cassie toyed with the necklace. She said, "One night some men came and told my dad that we had to leave right away. Rebel soldiers were coming and they were looting and killing. We packed as fast as we could. I saw flares lighting the sky in the direction of Masiko's village. I heard explosions. We fled to Kampala. After a few days we went home to New Jersey. I never had a chance to say good-bye to Masiko. I never heard from her again." Cassie stared past me. She said, "I was dreaming about that night. In my dream I heard Masiko calling for help but I couldn't find her and no one would help me look for her."
A bullfrog bellowed. Something splashed in the water garden. Cassie faced me and said softly, "Masiko sometimes made crowns for me from vines with flowers that looked and smelled a lot like honeysuckle." She closed her eyes and smelled the honeysuckle bracelet. She turned to the railing of the gazebo and once again stared at the stars. I stepped over to her and embraced her from behind. I inhaled the fragrance from a cluster of flowers on the back of the crown. She squeezed my arm. She wept. Her fingernails sunk into my skin.