Prologue (3)

Mr. Paddy glanced at the garden and there were even more people than when Maria sneaked out. He couldn't believe his eyes and was confused about how he should handle the situation.

Suddenly, a group of musicians played the umtshingosi bark flute and people began to dance euphorically.

Mr. Paddy's mood changed and he now viewed the impromptu guests in a favorable light. He turned toward Maria and instructed her to do her best for all the attendees without exception, to have a memorable moment.

Maria left her Master and followed to the letter his command. People rejoiced and expressed their well-wishes to Mr. Paddy and his wife.

Nine months later, it was mid-summer in Mankayane. On the last day of the first week, the sun was at its fullest, and Pola was lying on the marital bed. She felt intermittent and mild contractions in her womb.

She stayed passive since she had experienced the phenomenon before and thought it would go away but the contractions became persistent and stronger.

They were aching. Pola went into labor and started screaming and writhing in pain. Paddy who was as usual behind his desk skimming the paperwork, blenched.

He shouted as well and asked the housekeeper to call the midwife and meet them in their flat for the baby's delivery.

A few instants later, Sarah, a seventy-year-old woman, like a snowball stomped the manor house's front door.

She held in her right hand the village-wide famous midwifery bag. Everyone in Mankayane at the sight of the elderly with the crocodile-skin-made container understood that a baby was about to see the light of day.

And this time, things were more serious since the event was about to occur under the roof of the only wealthy landlord in the region without an heir.

Sarah and Maria penetrated the Master's private space. He was kneeling near the conjugal bed while gently grabbing Mrs. Pola by her left hand.

The midwife suggested that he exit the room since as per Swazi superstitions, it wasn't good for a man to see his woman delivering. It brought bad luck to the household.

Mr. Paddy did as he was told and stayed away. He went to the parlor downstairs, unlocked the cupboard, and took out a bottle of Grant's whisky.

He poured some of the fermented grain mash into a glass and drank it in one shot. His body's temperature instantly soared. He became dizzy, fell onto the divan, and snoozed.

Mrs. Pola's labor reached its final stage. Powerful contractions took hold of her and with the encouragement of the midwife and the housekeeper, she pushed out the offspring.

The infant ended his hide-and-seek game in the hands of the skillful midwife. She whispered that it was a boy, and gripped the toddler by his feet, lifted him in the mid-air, then spanked his rear.

An astounding cry pierced the roof of the room, shook up the manor's employees, and woke up Mr. Paddy.

Sarah consoled the newborn, cleaned him, and swaddled him with a muslin wrap while Maria was applying an ice pack on her Mistress' belly.

After some time Mrs. Pola felt better. She looked at the midwife and uttered to her that she was ready to carry her baby. The experienced lady advanced toward her and passed on the infant to her.

Mr. Paddy could no longer stand the wait. So he ordered a maid to bring him fresh water to drink and to soak his sleepy face.

Cathy, the youngest of the servants, first took to him a bottle of mineral water and a glass. Then she left and returned some moments later with a bucket of water and a towel.

Mr. Paddy quenched his thirst, wetted his face, and rushed to the first story. His heart commenced pounding fast as he neared the door of his private apartments.