"Are you all right?" Lois said. "How's Sylva?"
"Her ankle's 'normous. She can't step on it much 'cause it hurts."
"Are you all right?" Lois repeated. "I heard you were very brave yesterday morning."
"I thought the hog was going to come and get us, Maman," he said, sounding more excited than fearful now. "I shouted to frighten it away, and Romaric heard me. He came, but the hog had runned away by then."
Clark moved out of the shade of the tree. "Were you scared?" Lois asked her son.
"Just a bit," Diddi said. "I thought the hog was going to -" His eyes slid past Lois and settled on Clark.
"Diddi," Lois said. "This is Kent." She turned to Clark, beckoning him forward. "Come and meet my son, Didier Sol-Matymbou."
"Hello, Diddi," Clark said. "I'm so pleased to meet you."
"I'm pleased to meet you, too," Diddi said, his eyes scrutinising the full length of Clark's body. "You're not green anymore."
"Your mother helped me to get better."
"I knew she would," the boy said. He took a couple of steps closer to Clark. "Did you fall out of your rocket? Is that how you got so hurted?"
Part 16
"No, Diddi, of course he didn't," Lois said, cutting in before Clark could answer.
"But he was green."
"Thank you for bringing the cookies." Clark couldn't see Lois's face, but her tone reminded him of his mom when, whatever her words, her real message had been, That's enough, Clark.
"Why was he green?" Diddi persisted.
"Perhaps you should go back to Gislane now," Lois said. "This is a quarantine area."
"Matymbou said I could be in the quarantine, too," Diddi announced importantly. "Gislane put in extra cookies for me."
"Matymbou said you could come and be in quarantine with us?" Lois asked.
Diddi nodded.
"Are you sure he didn't just say you could bring cookies?"
"He did say that," Diddi said. "Then he said I can't help Sylva because her foot is hurted and she needs to rest, so I had to come and be with you."
"In quarantine?"
"Yes, Maman."
"Tsumbu?" Lois said, raising her voice. "Are you there?"
"Yes, Lois."
"Did Matymbou say anything to you about Diddi?"
"He said Diddi could be in the katakima."
With a shriek of excitement, Lois spread her arms wide. Diddi grinned, deposited the plate of cookies on the ground, and rushed forward to leap into his mother's embrace.
"I have missed you so much," she said as she swung him around.
Clark stood several feet away, unable to drag his eyes from them as his longing and envy clashed with the palpable joy of their reunion.
American woman. African boy.
Family.
Their individual differences emphasised how perfectly they fitted together.
Lois put Diddi down and turned to Clark, her jubilant smile dwindling as she stepped closer to him. "Go and get the cookies, Diddi," she said, although her attention was focussed on Clark. Her hand brushed across his arm. "Are you OK with this?" she asked quietly.
Clark forced a smile. "I'm glad Diddi can join us," he said. "I know you've been worried about him."
"Kent …" She let loose a sigh, but it didn't erase the line between her eyebrows. "I'm worried about you, too."
"I'm fine. Really. I'm glad Diddi's here."
"Diddi isn't … We need to talk."
Talk about what? About her son? About her marriage? About her husband? About why Matymbou had directed Diddi to join the quarantine?
Or about last night? And them?
There was no 'them', Clark told himself firmly. There never would be. "I'm fine, Lois," he said. "You've said how well my back healed. Don't worry about me."
They both knew this wasn't about his back. "Will you promise not to worry about anything?" she said. "At least, not until we've had the chance to talk?"
He nodded, although he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his word.
Lois paused for a moment, those brown eyes boring right down into his soul. "Let's have the cookies, shall we?" she said, her suggestion accompanied by a smile and the press of her fingers into his arm.
Clark nodded and turned to where Diddi was shyly approaching. He stopped in front of Clark. "I'm sorry I said you came from the moon," he said.
"That's all right, Diddi," Clark said.
"You weren't black, so you couldn't be Bangala," the boy explained. "You weren't white all over, so you couldn't be from Maman's tribe. So I thought …" His grin pushed away his contriteness. "And all the branches of the corkwood tree were broke where you falled through them."
Clark didn't want to talk about how he'd come to be at the top of the tree. "What sort of cookies did Gislane make for us?"
"Ginger and honey," Diddi said. He looked up at Clark with frank assessment. "I've always hoped someone from the moon would come and join the Bangala. I thought if someone came, he could be my friend and tell me all about space. I hoped your tribe wouldn't come and take you back. I asked Romaric every morning if you were still here."
"If your mom … your maman doesn't mind, I can be your friend, anyway," Clark offered.
The young boy's face split to a wide grin. "That would be great." He sent Lois a beseeching look. "It's OK, isn't it, Maman? Kent can be my friend? Even though he didn't come from the moon?"
"Of course Kent can be your friend," Lois said.
"Great," Diddi said with a little skip of excitement. "Come on. Let's go and eat the cookies." He ran towards the tree where Lois and Clark had been drinking their coffee.
"Did I mention that he has a vivid imagination?" Lois said. "I'm sorry if he embarrassed you."
"He's a terrific kid."
"I think you've won a fan already. It was sweet of you to offer to be his friend."
Clark couldn't remember anyone calling him 'sweet' before, although it was possible his mother had. Not knowing how to respond, he started walking towards the tree.
"I guess things are going to be a little different for our last couple of days in quarantine," Lois said as she fell into step beside him.
"Yeah." It would be a short, tantalising taste of something Clark could never have.
When they arrived in the shade, Diddi held the plate towards Clark. "Have a cookie, Kent," he said. "Gislane is the bestest cook is the whole Bangala."
"Thank you, Diddi," Clark said, taking one of the large crispy cookies.
"Diddi?" Lois said as they sat down. "Is everything OK in the village?"
"Clyde's paint got spilled, and it made a big dark patch in the dirt. He said some bad words very loudly."
"What about the people? Is anyone hurt?"
"Sylva's ankle hurts her."
"What about Matymbou? Is he all right?"
Diddi nodded. "But he says he can't eat today."
"Why not?" Lois asked quickly.
"'Cause they're going to roast the hog for dinner tomorrow night and he said he's going to eat half of it all by himself."
"Oh." Lois's gaze swung to Clark, and a private smile passed between them.
"Try not to worry," he murmured.
"You, too."
As they drank the coffee and ate the cookies, Diddi propelled the conversation, nimbly jumping from topic to topic. Mindful of being the interloper, Clark said little. And anyway, he was content to watch the interaction of this mother and son as his thoughts alternated between the future he had lost as a father and the past he could barely remember as a son.
After about fifteen minutes, Diddi leaned over to peer in Lois's cup. "Are you going to have more coffee?" he asked.
She smiled as if she knew why he had asked. "That one was so good that I think I need at least two more cups."
"Two more?" Diddi groaned. Then he saw her smile and burst into rollicking laughter. "You're joking, right, Maman? You never have three cups all together."
"What do you want to do?" Lois asked.
"You made a goal," Diddi replied, pointing at the structure. "So we could play soccer." He turned to Clark. "Will you play, too, please, Kent?"
"You have to remember that Kent hasn't been well," Lois said quickly. "He might not want to play with us."
"I feel OK," Clark said.
Diddi jumped to his feet. "Great! We can all play."
"You go and get the ball from the hut and check on the goalposts while Kent and I finish our coffee," Lois said.
Diddi sprinted away.
Lois moved closer to Clark. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" she asked.
He nodded.
Her hand found his. "Lana was pregnant, wasn't she?"
He nodded again, staring at their joined hands. "How did you know?"
"You said she'd been sleeping with the other guy. I was wondering about her timing … about why she suddenly told you she wanted to leave." Lois shrugged. "It makes sense if she was pregnant …"
"Yeah, she was."
Her fingers tightened. "You know for sure the baby isn't yours?"
Clark had always feared he wouldn't be able to conceive with a human woman. "Yeah," he mumbled. "She was sure. I believed her."
"Did she tell you about the pregnancy and the affair at the same time?"
"No," he said. "She let me believe for more than two months that I was going to be a father."
"Aww, Kent." Lois rose to her knees and put her arm across his shoulders. "I'm so sorry."
The feeling gushed over him again. Belonging and acceptance. They formed a barrier, wrapping around his heart and standing in staunch defiance of the unworthiness that had stalked him since the moment he'd understood that he was different.
Too soon, Lois released him - although her gentle smile felt like some compensation. "You don't have to play soccer with us," she said. "I can talk to Diddi. He'll understand."
"Would you rather just you and Diddi play?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "I'd love you to join in. Diddi would, too."
"If you really don't mind me intruding …"
Lois swung onto her feet and held out her hand. "Come on," she said. "I've been far too inactive today. It's just what we both need - a vigorous ball game." She grinned. "And today, I'm going to thrash you, Kent."
Her grin was infectious, and Clark found himself grinning right back as he allowed her to pull him up. "We'll see," he said. "We'll see."
~|^|~
They devised the structure of their game - each taking a turn to defend the goals while the other two attacked - and agreed on a scoring system.
Diddi supplemented the game with a steady stream of - mostly unintelligible - commentary, interspersed with excited yelps at success and dramatic gesticulations at near misses. He kept score with great enthusiasm, running to add more stones to the tally piles after each successful shot.
Most of Lois's comments were encouragement or advice for Diddi. A few times, she dropped a remark to Clark as they passed by each other when moving to new positions, either warning him - her eyes glinting with fiery amusement - that she was about to shoot the right ball past him or declaring dryly that five-year-olds had way too much energy for such a warm day.
As the game wore on, Clark found it more and more difficult to concentrate on the ball.
Lois - her skirt tied around her thighs, her face glowing deep pink, her hair becoming more dishevelled as her braids worked loose - was captivating.
Perhaps Diddi noticed his distraction, because he began directing more of his comments to Clark, particularly when they were attacking together. After a string of unsuccessful shots, Diddi pulled Clark aside and outlined a plan to get the ball past his mother.
"You dribble the ball, Kent, and make her think you're going to have the shot. But, at the last moment, pass it to me, and I'll shoot."
Clark nodded his solemn agreement. After Diddi had moved away, Clark kicked the ball forward, keeping it just a little in front of him.
"Shoot!" Diddi shrieked.
Clark swung back his foot and passed the ball to Diddi, who pounced on it and drove it past Lois for a goal.
"Yay!" Diddi screamed, tearing across the field and avalanching Clark with a bear hug.
Clark wrapped his arms around the small boy. His head lifted, and he saw Lois looking at them. She was smiling.
"Great shot, Diddi," Clark said as the boy unwound from Clark's waist.
"Great pass, Kent," Diddi said, grinning up at him.
Diddi ran away to update the score. Unable to control his impulse, Clark looked at Lois.
Her head was down as she wiped the sweat from her face with the hem of her shirt. When she looked up and saw him, she smiled. "Well done, Kent."
Her approval floated over him like an afternoon breeze.
Clark raised his hand in brief acknowledgement and then turned away so she wouldn't see him swallowing down the lump in his throat.
How did she do it? How could she touch his heart with simple words and a friendly smile?
And how was he going to face life in the village, where he would no longer need the care of a medicine woman and she would have returned to her husband?
~|^|~
They played until the sun got too hot and the adults claimed weariness. After getting drinks from the water barrel, Diddi went to count his piles of stones in order to determine the winner.
"You seemed to enjoy the game," Lois noted as she and Kent moved into the shade of the hut.
"I did," he said. "But there's something I don't understand."
"Why Matymbou allowed Diddi to join us?" Lois guessed. She was still wondering about that, too.
"No. About his name. You said Diddi isn't Matymbou's stepson."
"He's not."
"Then why is his name, 'Didier Sol-Matymbou'?"
"Oh," Lois said, realising it did sound inconsistent. "My name is Lois Laka-Matymbou. Diddi has the same name as me. 'Sol' means 'son of', but it's followed by the parent's status not the parent's name."
"Status? Because Matymbou is the chief?"
"No. Not status in that sense. More … position, I guess. It's a statement of where I belong in the Bangala. Diddi is my son, so he shares my position until he gets married. Then he will become Didier Laka, followed by the name of his wife."
"Is your husband called Matymbou Laka-Lois?" Kent asked with evident surprise.
"Yes."
"What is his daughter's name? The one who isn't your stepdaughter?"
"She's Lioli Moa-Lois."
"She has your name, even though she isn't your step-daughter?"
"That's right. Not because it's my name, but because Matymbou's position is being married to me."
"If you and Matymbou had a child, which name would be used? Matymbou or Lois?"
That wasn't going to happen, but with Diddi approaching them at full speed, there was only time for a brief explanation. "A son shares the position of his father; a daughter, her mother."
"It sounds complicated," Kent said.
"It's not so complicated once you get used to it," Lois said. "It's like a big jigsaw puzzle - everyone fits somewhere."
"Kent won!" Diddi shouted as he reached them. He stopped abruptly in front of the tall man. "You won," he said. "You got five more than me, and Maman got two more than me."
"Are you sure you counted properly?" Kent said, smiling down at the small boy. "I think your maman won."
Diddi vigorously shook his head. "No," he said. "I took one stone away from every pile. I kept on doing it until my pile had none. Maman's pile had two left." He demonstrated with two fingers. "And yours had five." He splayed his fingers to signify five. "What are we going to play now?" he said, directing his question at Kent.
"I think we need to set up a bed for you in the hut," Lois said.
"Can we tell stories by the campfire tonight?" Diddi asked, turning to his mother. "Please, Maman? I think Kent has great stories."
"Maybe," she said as she ruffled her son's closely cropped hair. "If you work on your English letters after lunch."
"All right," Diddi agreed, tearing towards the gate. "I'll ask Tsumbu to bring my mattress and my books."
~|^|~
Throughout lunch and the remainder of the afternoon, Clark looked for opportunities to drift into the background to allow Lois and Diddi some time alone. However, Lois continually found ways to include him, asking him to carry the mattress Tsumbu had provided, and seeking Clark's opinion about the best place for it in the hut.
Diddi seemed to have taken their standing of friendship to heart, chatting to Clark as if, in his mind anyway, the stranger was an integral part of the unconventional threesome.
The temptation to pretend it was real was immense. But it wasn't real. It never could be.
Lois was married. Whatever she had been trying to tell him about her marriage, it didn't change that she was married. To a good man.
Her marriage had been fundamental to his decision to stay. A married woman could offer him only friendship. A married woman couldn't get too close.
A married woman couldn't shatter his heart.
A married woman had no right even being in his heart … not as anything more than a friend.
Except …
Lois … Diddi … it was his dream. A woman. A child. A family.
Smiles. Hugs. Encouragement. Games. Fun.
Love.
But it wasn't his.
Once the bed was set up, mother and son moved into the shade to work on Diddi's letters and Clark slipped away to where he had hidden the truck behind the hut. The linseed oil had dried nicely. By tomorrow morning, the sixteen-hour waiting period would be over and Clark could apply the second coat. Perhaps he would try to wake before Lois and Diddi - that way, the truck would be ready to give to its young owner by early afternoon.
That was a moment Clark had imagined more that a few times. Diddi was going to be so excited.
Diddi had a wonderful relationship with Lois. She was firm with him, giving him a look or a word when he came close to stepping out of line. He responded quickly, usually with a good-natured grin of acceptance.
Although Clark had the impression that Diddi wouldn't give way so easily if he believed in something.
Just like his mom, really.
She had been determined Clark wouldn't venture into the jungle alone and face certain death. She had been determined his body would heal. Now, she was determined …
What, exactly, were her plans for him now?
She had said they would talk later. Tonight? After Diddi had gone to bed?
"What about … what about what happened between you and me?"
He could recall her exact words, her exact tone, the pause and how his heart had accelerated in anticipation of what she'd been going to say.
He'd scrambled to extricate himself, declaring nothing had happened.
But so much had happened.
Was it possible she understood how she'd made him feel? How, in those few minutes as they'd sat together under the blanket with her arm around him, he had felt the same as he imagined everyone else felt?
She'd said she wasn't just a medicine woman. She'd said she wanted to be his friend.
But if there's something else.
Something else?
There could never be something else.
She was married, and he was broken.
He never wanted to love again.
She'd said she wanted to talk about her marriage.
What could she say about her marriage that related to him?
Nothing. He'd misunderstood.
She'd been going to tell him that whatever he thought had happened, it couldn't go any further. She was married.
She was going to stay married.
"Lois?" Tsumbu's call came from beyond the gate. "I have your food."
Lois went to the gate. Clark emerged from behind the hut and added another log to the fire. Diddi put his books in the hut.
It felt like a family gathering together for a meal. The setting could hardly have been more different, but it was sharply reminiscent of the early years of his childhood in Smallville.
"Oh, yum," Diddi squeaked. "Gislane made fries."
Clark checked out the plate Lois handed him and found chunky, slightly yellow 'fries'.
"They're not exactly potatoes," Lois said. "But they taste great. And Diddi loves them. Gislane makes them as a treat for him."
Clark waited until Lois was seated and then sat two rocks away. Diddi plonked himself between them and began eating eagerly.
Clark pretended to study his food. Feeling her attention on him, he looked up and met Lois's eyes above Diddi's head.
"You OK?" she mouthed.
He nodded.
Her hand slipped behind Diddi's back and touched his arm.
It lasted less than a second, but her meaning was clear. This was her family, and he was welcome.
