Being Celeste (5 page)

It’s my birthday in six months. I’ll be
twenty-two. I don’t feel like celebrating. The thought is just gnawing at the
back of my head, making me think all sorts of things, depressing things. What
should I do now, talk about it? It would further depress me, I think. I’m
thinking about when this whole career thing will fall in my path, something for
both Kate and I. But I’m so old (this is the part where I come down on myself
again). I’m so old but immature. At first I thought I was being a late bloomer
but no, I’m just immature. I called Kate earlier to tell her that I’m going
over to her house for a
sleepover
. Hear that, a sleepover. We’ll have
movie night there because I need some solace in her company. She always knows
how to calm down my paranoia. I know that it is winter, but we are having ice
cream and cokes to wash it down. That’s how we throw pity parties. She’s been
pretty miffed by the fact that she hasn’t seen her man of mystery since that
day in the store. I don’t get it, but I’ll just play along because it’s a pity
party. I always like going over to Kate’s house. They have the coolest high
definition flatscreen, perfect for movie night. And her parents are such
darlings. They are always popping in, offering food and snacks, making sure we
are well fed.

“Darling, come make your father some tea,
I’m popping outside to refurbish my vegetable patch,” said mum, standing at my
bedroom door.

Ugh! The joys of making tea when you’re in
the middle of a mental crisis! I’m going to be twenty-two and I have nothing to
show for it. I’ll make the tea and rush over to Kate’s before I have a nervous
breakdown. Mum will borrow me her car, she won’t mind. Where does a retired
person need to be on Monday morning? I’ll put it in those words. Mum doesn’t
like me driving her car, because of this one incident where I
almost
crashed it. It’s a long story. Okay, maybe not. I was driving to the store to
get a few supplies for the fridge. This idiot was driving really slowly, so I
tried to pass him. Now my mother’s car is such an antique, it picks up speed so
slowly. So here I am, trying to pass the slow car, but my car is increasing
speed at a snail’s pace. I’m in the wrong lane, so the idiot increases speed
and leaves me there. I was so concerned about what had just happened that I
forgot I was driving in the wrong lane...let’s just say dear guardian angel was
with me that day because I almost caused a tragedy. My gosh, I could have
died...without ever being kissed? How’s that for a happy ending? Anyway, it’s
been two years and mum still doesn’t trust me to drive alone. Oh, she was in
the passenger’s seat by the way. I think it was the first time I ever heard her
swear because she was so scared. But imagine how
I
was feeling, the
beginner driver. I’d just got my license. I’ll ask her for the car in front of
dad, he always manages to convince her to cut the cord and let me flap my
wings. I’ll just call dad out and give him tea so that he can watch her
refurbish
her garden.

“Boitumelo, let the child have the car,”
said dad to mum. You see, I told you she was going to refuse. If only I could
afford my own car.

“Well then Dirang, why don’t you borrow her
your
car?” she replied, throwing her gardening tools in a bag. I wonder
what refurbishing she was doing; the place still looks the same. Maybe she was
weeding, because I can see some dried up plant bits thrown on the side. I
always like her get up when she gardens: the black tracksuit pants, some
oversized free t-shirt (she has plenty of those), and a head scarf underneath
her hat. I don’t know why, but I feel refreshed just looking at her. I hope she
can sense that and lend me her car already. I don’t want to miss movie night.

My father slurped his tea, sitting on a
plastic garden chair and looked up at me. “Celeste, her keys are in her purse,”
he said. “Go, she said yes.”

Oh I love you dad, you always know how to
make it happen. Time to go! I can here mum just throwing a fit behind me. Maybe
I should go out the back door in case she calls me back. I’ll just sneak to the
side of the house and make my way to the front yard like that. They were
sitting on the other side of the house, where my mother’s garden is. I look
like a thief, sneaking around.

Yes, I made it! Kate will be waiting.
Sometimes I wish I could live at her house for just a week. She has the most
amazing house, inside out. The driveway is just huge and paved and rosebushes
and an orchard on the side of the compound. I just want to come and camp there,
enjoy the scenery. And her house is just huge. Incredible brick walls and a
huge wooden front door with an elephant carved in the middle. It’s like a
resort. Her father is like some big shot business man who owns a chain of sport
shops and has invested in supermarkets country wide. Her mum is a court clerk.
I always wonder how Kate’s outrageous outfits could ever come from such a
beautiful home. But that’s not important because I like my friend just the way
she is (even though I’m secretly entering her into a makeover contest).
Tomorrow’s pink Monday all over again. Oh there she is, running out of her
house, just to meet me. Or maybe it is to stop her huge dog from mauling me.
Ugh, I hate that dog, it’s so angry.

“Hey Celeste, go on in,” said Kate, holding
it back.

It’s barking violently at me. I’m shaking
pretty badly right now, but I won’t let this break me. Oh, who am I kidding,
I’m going to make a run for it. I
sprinted
to the front door as if the
mutt was chasing after me. I rushed into the house and met Kate’s parents
sitting in the dining room, having tea. I was a little out of breath.

“Good evening,” I said, panting like an
idiot.

“Celeste, good to see you,” said Kate’s
mum. She had a warm smile on her face. “Come and sit dear, before you faint on
us. Would you like some tea, Celeste?” offered her mother.

Man, these people are so nice. They always
make me want to come over and pay Kate a visit constantly. I feel so guilty
because I’m partially here to take advantage of their flatscreen and have a
free therapy session with their daughter. I’m so selfish, because I just take
and take from them. Kate’s mum has a wonderful smile, and perfect teeth. She’s
always wearing a two piece outfit made from cloth with printed safari animals
on it. I presume she buys it from a place like Mozambique because she’s always
going there on holiday. I would too, if my husband was a successful
businessman. Don’t find this alarming, but coming over and hanging out in this
resort they call home, and having her dress like a safari queen, really does it
for me. Like, I’m done, I feel like I’m in a vacation spot. Oh right, would I
like some tea?

“No thank you,” I replied, with a wide grin
on my face. “Thank you.”

“Are your parents well, Celeste?” asked
Kate’s father, refilling his cup with more of the hot, healthy liquid. . His
voice was like a thunderous roar, almost like a lion, just clapping with depth.
I was always almost surprised by it. If it were any lower, no one would
understand a single word Kate’s father says because it would be too deep to
comprehend, if there were such a possibility.

I passed on a weird and heavy nod. I don’t
think they understood what it meant. It’s not my fault they make me nervous.
Kate rushed in and closed the front door to prevent the dog from running inside
the house. I was so relieved to see her. She had come to rescue me.

“Come on Celeste,” she screamed, ordering
me to her room.

I looked at her parents and nodded again,
while getting up. I wonder if they think that there’s something wrong with my
neck. I hurried behind Kate and as soon as I shut the door behind me, I began
to unwind. I was no longer in the resort, I was in Kate’s room...the
catastrophe. She’s not very fond of picking up her clothes from the floor, and
all the papers, she’s told me that. I’m used to it. I no longer make any
comments about it, what’s the use. It’s so much of a contradiction to the
organised and neat persona she brings to the outside world. I will clean some
of the mess as we discuss movie night, otherwise where am I going to sleep?
You’d think she’d take a hint from
my
room and how organised it is when
she comes over to my house, but nope, it’s easier to live like a pig. Her bed
was in one corner of the room, and she had a couch next to her closet, it was
covered with clothes. Her desk was just overflowing with papers and books and
cosmetics. The only thing reasonable about the room was that it always had a
fresh smell, like...I can’t quite put my finger on it, but maybe the smell of
fresh linen perhaps.

“Kate,” I said, brushing away some clothes
so that I could sit on her bed. Some of these clothes I’ve never even seen her
wear. “As I said over the phone, this is an emergency.”

“Well, what is it?” replied Kate, going
over to sit on her couch.

I hoped she would understand my
predicament, and the fact that this was a pity party. I got up and started to
slowly walk around her room, stating my motion.

“Kate, I’ll be twenty-two in six months,
and you in eight.”

She looked at me like I had lost the plot.
“Yes, I know that Celeste.”

“Listen first and comment later!” I
demanded. “We have nothing to show for it and yet we are two grown women, still
depending on our parents. We don’t have boyfriends; I have never been kissed,
and we still haven’t decided what we are going to do once we go to college. We
are bums, Kate, losers, and I have had enough of these bullshit feelings I keep
having. I’m tired of being eleven, I want to be twenty-one, and I want to act
my age.” I stopped talking, waiting for a reaction from Kate. She was just
sitting there, staring at me, but I could see the same passion I had, begin to
fill her eyes.

“Carry on,” she finally said, sinking
further into her seat.

“This past week, I’ve spent swooning over
some dude who hardly knows I exist. But if you could ask me right now, I know
what and where he is at this instant because I can’t take my eyes off his social
media pages. Just a few nights ago, I started having dreams about him, visiting
me at my house and stuff.”

“You know what, I’ve been dreaming about
Thato too. I had a dream where he was calling my name.”

“My point exactly! That’s so wrong in so
many levels. This needs to change. I was thinking, during church service today:
why should we be stalkers? Why can’t we be the ones being followed around by
fit boys all day? Why do we have to behave like nerdy subservient and shy
freaks when we don’t have to? Did you know that on Tuesday, when the bus came
over to our complex, I couldn’t go after Taboka because I felt so insecure
about my size? I thought, well what is he going to think when he sees this big
hippo coming after him? I felt like crap over some guy and that should never
have to happen,” I protested. At this time there was so much power shooting
through my whole body, I almost felt as if I was about to float about, passing
it onto everything I touched.

Kate had begun my weird nodding. I thought
her head was about to fall off. “Yeah! We shouldn’t give a shit about them, not
this much. It’s creepy too,” she said, giving a slight fist pump in protest.

“It’s not right, having fantasies about
guys we hardly know. We need to get ourselves out there, Kate. We need to grow
up, a lot.”

Kate shot up from her seat. “Yes, yes,
yes!” she exclaimed. “Well, what do you suggest exactly?”

“Well, I have a plan. Our situation calls
for a transformation.”

“Transformation? I like it. Go on.”

By now I was feeling rather proud and my
ego was through the roof. I loved the feeling. I think the dictionary calls it
confidence. It’s wonderful. I went over to Kate’s desk and pulled out a large
blue piece of Manila paper. I’d been eyeing it ever since I entered her room.
If I’d known my proposal was going to turn into a presentation, I would have
made it in PowerPoint. But this would do. “Do you have a marker?” I asked.

She went over to her desk, pulled out a
drawer and dug in there for a while. I stuck the paper on her wall and switched
on the lights. It was already evening and getting dark outside. I was still
taken aback by the mess in the room. The lights just made it worse. It’s kind
of hard to exude passion in such a messy environment. I looked up at the paper
on the wall. This would have been better if I had come prepared with a proper
presentation, with pictures and all. I mean it’s
that
important. I just
hope that I can make Kate see what’s in my head with this mediocre, half baked
show that I just thought of.

“Here you go. I think it works.” Kate
handed me a purple felt pen.

“Have a seat, please.” I turned and made a
slight mark on the paper to see if it was working. It wasn’t that bad. “To
begin our transformation,” I began. “We need to first abolish certain
traditions that have taken over our lives. We need to air out our laundry and
give what we don’t need to charity.” Yes, I had her attention. She was biting
her nails, which she always does when she’s attentive. “No more movie night!”

Kate gasped. “Oh no, not movie night!”

I wrote
Cancelled
, as a heading and
placed
movie
night
as number one underneath it on the paper. Kate
looked horrified.

“We can’t keep living in the movies
anymore, and relating to them like they’re real. From now on, in place of movie
night, we go out to a local spot or restaurant and hang out with the public. I
hear rave reviews about that new place over at that new hotel. We’ll just go
there and make it
Girls night out
and have a few drinks.” I created
another heading,
Transformation,
in a new column and wrote
Girls
Night Out.
I could see Kate’s horrified facial expression begin to
alleviate. She was warming up to the idea. I continued. “No more boy stalking,
ever! If you’ve bookmarked Thato’s facebook page, delete it. I will delete
mine. From now on, you see a guy you like, approach him and let him know, or
else forever hold your peace, no stalking.”