It had blue and white and green stripes. Big and small and big. It was pocked with holes, each and every one oddly the precise size of a 500 shilling coin, as if during its various ventures it had passed through the teeth of an obsessive compulsive rodent.
It had been used for very many things over the course of its long, hard life, this mattress cover and if it had the ability to talk chances are that it would say that it honestly could not, for the life of it, remember the last time it had been used for what it had been named for. But in spite of this it still would have insisted on the name “Soft Foam” for it was a 9 letter portal to a better time, a time when it still had soft foam to cover. Right now though, at present, it was piteously unemployed. Between pillow duty and well, who knew what Nakato wanted it for?
Nakato was saving up to buy emcee you see. For the tantalizing price of Six Thousand Uganda Shillings Only. No higher purchase though, no on credit either but with cold, hard cash. And for someone like Nakato, getting that kind of money required an extremely high level of commitment and patience. Both of which she had managed to learn while living near the corner of Obulumi Road and Okuwankawanka Avenue on a five foot square of pavement just below the display window of Deo & Sons Electrical and Hardware. For two years now. Two. Whole. Years. Ever since…
Nakato counted out the money again. 6000/= to the coin. And even though her mouth for the most part had forgotten what to do to smile she still managed to construe it into at least the semblance of one. Nothing picture worthy mind you but just enough to hint at just a little bit of hope.
Reaching under the folds of her wrapper Nakato stuffed the money into one of the small pouches of the faded yellow and blue MTN apron she had bought from an airtime hawker not too long before. The hawker had been due for a new one and so had let the old one go for 1,200/=.
Evening was creeping across the sky, sitting on the sun forcing it below the spires of a mosque from which could be heard the call to prayer of the Muazzin from the loudspeakers mounted on top of a minaret. That was her cue.
Folding the strips of cardboard she used to cushion her space of concrete as best she could, Nakato tucked them under her arm and took a walk.
Streets and side streets, mud and dust and cars splashing murky water. Nakato walked for almost half an hour, eyes on the ground to hide from the dirty looks and up turned noses. Even though even those had become less and less. Nakato had wished herself invisible for so long that at times it seemed as if she had become just that. Especially during the times when she had her hand held out and her small bowl open to donations.
By the time Nakato reached where she was going dusk had kissed the ground and turned everything but the traffic lights and car lights and lighted signs awash with grey.
He was waiting for her behind the burned out shell of a Land Rover Defender in a place where cars were sent to die, to be killed and to be harvested for their parts.
He wore rags, whatever color they may have been in a previous life dyed to a uniform muddy brown. In fact everything about him was a muddy brown. From his nappy hair that had locked from years of neglect to his feet with the chipped and broken toe nails that were constantly swollen from infection. Truth be told, it was miracle that he could still walk at all.
He had no name. All the people who had been forced to make their homes on the street knew was that if you wanted something, he was the one you went to.
“You’re late” He said as she walked up to him. He was sitting on a stool with his shopping cart of wares a few feet away.
“I’m here now.” Was Nakato’s reply. “Do you have it?”
He peered at her for a moment then using the cart pulled himself to his feet.
“I should even make you pay extra. Time is money and you have wasted mine.”
He rummaged around the cart.
Nakato knew he was just talking and so she let him rummage without reply.
“Ah, here it is.”
And there it was. He shook it out and held it up for Nakato to see. She ran her eyes over it as best she could.
“It’s dirty.” She observed.
“It’s fine. It is dark, the night is just playing tricks on you.”
Nakato reached for the mattress cover,
“Let me see it.”
Muddy Brown quickly withdrew his hand, holding out his other empty one.
“First the money then I’ll give you.”
This time it was Nakato’s turn to peer at him. Not that she could see much in the growing darkness.
Shaking her head, Nakato pulled out the money and reluctantly handed it over. Muddy Brown took it.
“Because I can not run after them people like to try and cheat me.” He said while holding the money close to his face and counting it.
Nakato said nothing.
Muddy Brown counted the money again before nodding his head in satisfaction and handing over the mattress cover. Taking it, Nakato held it up close to her face, inspecting it as much of it as she could.
“It’s dirty.” She repeated. And it was. Filthy. Lord knows with what.
“Then wash it. If not then leave it. But if you do leave it you will also leave me with something, time is money and you have wasted mine.”
Nakato chewed on her lower lip in thought. Then making a decision she folded the cover and tucked it under her armpit to join her strips of card board.
“Fine. I’ll take it, even though you are cheating me.”
Muddy Brown scoffed.
“It is not cheating if you have accepted.”
Nakato thought about this for a moment and then shrugged.
“It is done, it is done.”
There were no goodbyes, no farewells, merely a grunt from him, a nod from her and then once again Nakato was putting one foot in front of the other.
Before going back to her square of pavement though, Nakato stopped at a small kafunda and for favors rendered in a small dark room with chipped wall paint, dirty floors and loud bed springs was served couple of pieces of cassava and a mug of chai. Trying to savor it as best she could, seeing as the next time she would eat would not be for at least until midday the following day, Nakato ate sparingly and sipped at her tea slowly…
It was late by the time she made it back to her sidewalk below the display window. It was not like the old days when if she came back too late she would find her space gone. Now it was hers, as if her name had been written there.
Tired to the core of her being Nakato laid out the strips of cardboard, unfolded the mattress cover then slipping inside it lay down and tried her best to drift off into the world of dreams.
