Cafe Babanussa (27 page)

Ruby dove into Emma's arms for a big hug. The three of them got back on the subway for the two stops it took to get to Zoologischer Garten. Emma asked after Abena. Ruby said that she was okay, but still in hospital on the psych ward. She was going to see her the next day. Ruby kept her eyes trained on the floor, except when speaking with Jessie or Emma. She looked carefully at everyone's feet, examining their shoes as she tried to squelch the paranoia that was rising. She could feel it snaking up around her throat. She could hear voices taunting her. “What's she doing out again?” “Hush, she's crazy.” “Eyes down, don't make contact with us. We don't want you here.”

Ruby couldn't resist tilting her head up and glancing briefly around to see who was talking. She held on to Jessie's arm again, for reassurance. She felt like a little child who didn't know how to be alone in this big world, and went back to
looking at her feet, watching them as they got off the subway and ascended the steps, walked along Budapester Strasse and into the park. It was mid-morning and the sun was bursting through a few wayward clouds, filling the skies with light. Ruby stayed close to her companions. Though she could lift her head up a little more here, as there weren't too many people on the street yet, she instinctively ducked down whenever anyone came in sight. As they walked through the park, they began to hear the blare of loudspeakers.

“I heard there was a demo planned for today,” said Emma, “but I didn't think they'd be this close to the park. The city government has just signed on to build a massive corporate complex. Most of us are appalled and think it's a huge waste, especially since they've begun slashing social programs.”

“Let's go take a peek,” said Jessie. “I've never been to a demonstration before.”

Ruby sucked in her breath.

Jessie, sensing her discomfort, said, “You'll be fine. We'll be right next to you all the way.”

Ruby didn't want to spoil the party and seem like a wimp, so they followed the sounds and the growing stream of passersby heading the same way. When they reached the street, Jessie stopped abruptly, her eyes now huge globes. “Oh my god,” she said. People were milling about everywhere and marching down the street, bouncing signs up and down in their hands, chanting and singing.

Ruby recalled Werner's warnings about wearing balaclavas and running shoes to head out to a demo. The street
was packed full of people, the sidewalks awash with protesters and onlookers alike. Parading by at that moment was a block-long group of women dressed in various shades of purple. They carried drums and tambourines and were singing songs as they pounded through the street. Following on their heels came the radical group, measuring at least three blocks long. Anarchists dressed head to toe in black, with balaclavas or scarves around their faces, Doc Martens on their feet. There was no singing here, but some carried signs and effigies. Ruby was surprised at the power of their presence. She could feel the tension in the air; her head seemed to pound in sync with the protesters' feet. The police gathered on foot, in full riot gear, at the intersections. They looked ferocious with their helmets, suits and masks, ready to do battle at the drop of a hat. As Ruby knew from past experience, it was not uncommon for peaceful demonstrations to end up as riots—often finishing up in Kreuzberg, with store windows smashed to pieces and many burning cars serving as barricades while the policed fired water cannons and tear gas into the festering crowds.

Emma interrupted Ruby's thoughts, saying, “Why don't we walk along for a bit to show our support. Ruby, will you be okay?”

“To be honest, I'm not sure. It's crazy down here.”

“Come on,” said Emma. “Give it a try. It'll be good practice for you to be among lots of people. We'll be here.”

Ruby could feel the tension of the crowd mounting as they neared the next intersection. A sudden ripple ran through it, then she heard someone yell that they were being blocked
off about ten minutes down the road. People started yelling and waving fists, and there was a surge of movement behind them. A swell of people pushed forward, taking Ruby along with them. She tried to see where Jessie and Emma were. She tried to push her way against the crowd to get back to them, but masses of bodies propelled her along. Ruby had to keep her head up and she felt a strange sickness mount in her as she twisted and turned and waved, hoping the two others could keep her in sight. It was wall-to-wall people, and Ruby couldn't breathe. In her head she kept hearing Melvin Burns's voice saying,
I gotcha now, girl
. She kept lunging forward and then trying to turn to look over people's heads for any sign of her lost companions. Someone yelled at her, “Quit stumbling around there, you're holding us up.” The slight burn of tear gas and the cacophony around her matched the noise in her brain. Tears streaked down her face. There was now a choir in her head, filling in the breaks between Melvin Burns's cries. The voices ranted at her:
Don't be a fool, don't get lost, stand up, be strong
. As if to spite the voices, Ruby sank down to the pavement and sat crumpled in the middle of the crowds.

Someone hissed, “You stupid asshole, what are you doing? You can't do that. Get out of here.”

Ruby started screaming, “I can't move, I'm stuck!”

Two men and a woman stopped to help her. They lifted her up and dragged her off to the sidewalk, bumping into people, cursing all the way as they inched their way through the throng. One of the men said, “You better get outta here and go home. It's only going to get worse.” The woman told
her, “You should cut back through the park up to Hansaplatz or over to the zoo.” Then, “Be safe.” With that she was gone.

Ruby stood on her tiptoes for a few minutes, scanning the crowd for her sister and Emma. It was impossible. So she ran into the park and ran and ran and ran. Burns's fiendish voice exploded into her head:
I'm gonna tear you apart, piece by piece. Ha ha ha. I've got you good
. Ruby writhed and twisted and shook her head violently, trying to remove him from her being. She collapsed on the ground and rolled back and forth, back and forth, but her voice seemed to be stuck in her throat. She kicked her legs and flailed her arms, struggling to be free of him.

“What's wrong, ma'am? Should I call an ambulance?”

Ruby jumped up and pushed the person away, yelling, “He's possessed me! He's coming to get me. I gotta keep going.” Sheer adrenaline pushed her forward.

The skies were darkening, the clouds inky and bloated. Ruby kept running hard. She was too afraid to take the subway and decided she would run and walk all the way home, rain be damned. The choir was still singing in her head:
Gotta get home, gotta get home
. She was awed by the idea of a choir singing to her, but hated that it filled so much space inside her head with its repetitions. She shook her head again to see if she could get rid of it. It would be nice to turn it on when you wanted it. But she couldn't control it, and that made her angry. She continued quickly along the paths, trying to remember the way to Hansaplatz. A light spattering of rain began to fall on her head and she cursed the skies. Melvin
Burns seemed to have left the party, but she knew he would be back. His voice still echoed throughout her and she constantly looked this way and that as she slowed to a jog. She wondered where Jessie and Emma were, if they were okay. She knew they would be worried about her. Ruby picked up her pace as water dripped lightly from the sky. She eventually wound her way through the enclave of factories on the streets where Moabit met Wedding. The buildings looked lonely and ramshackle and she wondered if they were in use at all. It was quiet all around and the skies were still sombre. A fine drizzle trickled through her hair and onto her face. She looked up and heard a loud clap of thunder. The choir had stopped chanting and a voice erupted in her head.
I will suck your cunt dry, Ruby Edwards. Your flesh isn't as sweet and pure as when I last tasted it, and neither are you. Don't you dare talk about me—I will do you in, you hear! I will do you in
. Ruby sprinted down the street. She kept shaking her head furiously every few steps as if she really thought it would rid her of that slimy voice. She could still hear him shouting at her. A rush of adrenaline walloped her and she ran and ran and ran. She was screaming inside her head, “I want to go home, I want to go home, far away from here, home!”

As she neared her neighbourhood, the skies opened up and the rain flushed down over her. She was drenched but felt as if she were being cleansed of all impurities: the abuse at the hands of Melvin Burns, the thousands of questions about all her delusions, the confusion brought on by her illness. Let them all wash off her and disappear! She had slowed her pace
to a jog, as she was now only about ten minutes from home. She felt comforted by the familiar landmarks and thought of how much she loved this city. But Jessie was right. It was time to leave.

She practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment and banged on the door while fumbling for her keys. Issam opened the door, with Magdi peeking around his legs. She fell into Issam's arms and he lifted her up and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. He lay her on the bed, removed her shoes and wet coat and then sat down beside her. She looked at him and said, “I just had the worst nightmare. Could you hold me, please?”

Issam lay down beside her and put his arms around her.

She said, “Tell me, are you thinking of leaving Berlin?”

Issam did not answer at first.

“Baby, you have to tell me what's on your mind,” she said. “What your plans are. I'm thinking of leaving, too.”

Issam sighed. “Yes, I want to go back to Africa. This is not the life for me here. Sudan is calling me to come home. I'd like to take Magdi with me, but we'll have to see. Ruby, I love you. But I am no good to you if I am unhappy. I can do more things, I can do
better
things, in Africa. It's where I'm meant to be. You could come with me.”

Ruby tried to hold back her tears. “Somehow I knew this might happen. Just not so soon. Life is too cruel for you here. It's time for me to go home, too.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Issam got up to go answer it.

“Is Ruby here?” she heard Jessie say. “Oh my god, we lost her. We wandered all through the streets downtown looking for her. Please tell me she's here.”

“Yes, she is. She's okay. She's soaking wet and tired, but okay.”

“Oh, thank god,” said Emma. “We were so worried.”

The two women joined Ruby in her bedroom.

“I have never been so scared in my life,” said Jessie. “But then Emma kept saying, ‘Ruby will probably just go home.' And it's true, I guess. Where else could you go? Thank god.”

“Speaking of home . . .” Ruby said, and she told them how after the demonstration she had been overcome by the feeling of wanting to go home to Toronto.

“I'll say,” said Jessie, clapping her hands. “It's about time you came round to that.”

“You were right,” Ruby said. “Issam told me that he's making plans to leave. It may not be for a little while, but his mind is set on going.” Ruby was tired; her brain felt like a tangled cluster of live wires. But she tried to stay up a little longer. Besides, who knew what sleep, or lack of it, would bring. She felt safer here with her sister.

Emma laughed. “It's going to be like a mass exodus. Everybody's going. Berlin has been good to us, but she's had her time. We need to move on.”

O
NE AFTERNOON
R
UBY WENT TO THE POOL AT HER
local community centre. She loved the sense of solitude and peace that gliding through the water brought. She slipped into the water, submerging herself in its coolness. She pushed off, doing a breast stroke to warm up. As the pool was almost empty, she flipped onto her back and counted one, two, three, one, two, three as she propelled herself forward with the back crawl. This was her favourite stroke. She closed her eyes and it felt so rhythmic as she slid through the liquid that enveloped her. Her mind fell into nothingness for a few moments. Then his voice broke through the peacefulness with a stark and painful message:
I licked your cunt and I made you suck my dick. Ha ha. I'd do it all over again.

Ruby careened frantically through the water, arms splashing wildly at her side. She swallowed gulps of water that rushed out backwards, burning through her nose. Her legs felt like they were struggling against dead weights. She couldn't catch her breath and couldn't calm herself. Her mind went black just as quickly as she heard cries around her.

It felt like an hour before she felt her body being yanked through the water to the deck. Someone was compressing her chest. She gasped and sputtered as water gushed from her mouth and her nose. “You're okay. You're gonna be okay,” whispered the lifeguard. They brought her towel to her to cover her up. “What happened, ma'am, what happened?”

“Some kind of panic attack,” replied Ruby, coughing between words and still shaking. And lying there shivering, recognized that to get better she would have to face her tormentor. What would she say? That he should rot in hell. But then, she didn't believe in hell, so what good was that? Still, she did believe in some kind of karma and felt sure that he would be made to suffer for his evildoings in some kind of afterlife.

When she got home, Issam could see immediately that something was amiss. She told him all that happened and of her new determination to resolve this in the only way she knew possible. He wasn't at all thrilled with the idea of her meeting up with Melvin Burns.

“Just go to the police when you get home. Let them handle it. Why trouble yourself?”

“The police wouldn't touch my story with a ten-foot pole. Remember, I'm a crackpot, a nutcase, wacko. Who's going to believe me? They'll just say it's the delusions. Besides, it happened when I was just a kid. It's too long ago.”

Issam hugged her and then took her hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom. As he touched her breasts, her neck, and kissed her eyes he said, “I'm going to miss you so much, Ruby. Why don't you come to Sudan with me?”

Ruby cried. “I have to go home if I ever want to get better, Issam.”

Issam made love to her at first with only his hands, roaming gently across her body. Ruby struggled to relax and put Melvin Burns out of her mind, and eventually she succumbed to her lover's touch. That night she felt something change in her body, a feeling of something taking hold of her and settling. Not long after, she knew for sure. She was pregnant!

She couldn't believe her good luck. She had begun longing for a child ever since Issam moved in with her, but knew she might not have much of a window of opportunity, given her illness. As of yet, nobody had diagnosed her as bipolar like her mother; at the hospital they had treated her psychotic episode as a one-time thing, despite her mother's history. Lately, she had been able to resist her tendency to paranoia, and the only persistent delusion was the one regarding Melvin Burns. If she went home and discovered it wasn't a delusion, maybe she could stay well. That evening at dinner she told Issam her news.

Issam dropped the bread out of his hand. “What do you mean? You can't be. Ruby, no!”

Ruby sighed. “Listen, Issam. That's not exactly the reaction I was looking for.” Her voice took on a tone of harshness as she continued. “Don't you worry. I'll be raising this child on my own in Toronto. You won't have to do a thing. Okay?”

“That's
not
okay. It's not good for a child to be raised without a father.”

“I will work hard at being the best mother I can be,” said
Ruby. “I love you, Issam, and I want your child. And this may be my only chance.”

“You know I love you, too. But what if you get sick again? You're not thinking this through.”

“I'll have my family around me. They'll stand by me.”

Ruby realized how lucky she was to be able to say that, and she hoped for her family's understanding.

Issam remained frosty for the next few days, and Ruby began to feel depressed. Her family in Toronto was beckoning to her and she wanted to follow their call. She had been away for almost five years.

She struggled to defend her decision and had to face the sorrow mounting within her. She loved Issam: the touch of his hand, his momentous smile, mischievous eyes and carefree spirit. So far she had felt sure of herself. Now every time she looked into Issam's eyes she experienced a sense of incalculable loss. Would he ever know his baby? Would she be able to travel to Sudan or could he come see them? How would she raise their child without him? Would her family's support be enough?

Emma was leaving in two weeks. They went out for drinks on a patio in Kreuzberg. Ruby drank iced tea and Emma settled for her usual Weizenbier. Ruby's friend practically jumped out of her seat when she heard the news. “That's so exciting! Oh my god, do you know if it's a boy or a girl?”

Ruby smiled. “I don't want to know. I'll find out in the end. That's good enough for me.”

“You'll have to be careful with your health. You haven't been stable for long.”

“But what about all those women with other illnesses—epilepsy, diabetes—what about them?” said Ruby. “Does someone tell them they can't have children and be good mothers?”

“I think you'll be a great mom. But to be on the safe side, maybe you should take up meditation.”

“Mmm-hmm. And yoga, too, I guess.”

“How does Issam feel about the situation?”

“He's not happy. In fact, he's not talking to me much.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? Why don't I come home with you now and you can fix us something to eat while he and I chat?”

“You can give it a shot, but I don't know what kind of reception you'll get.”

Back at home, Emma and Issam sat down together in the living room while Ruby put on a kettle for tea and got busy making dinner. Pasta with arrabbiata sauce was one of Issam's favourite dishes: a simple melding of wonderful flavours. It would be a peace offering to him. First she minced some shallots and garlic and then chopped up fresh and sun-dried tomatoes. She put two handfuls of olives on the cutting board, admiring their wrinkled yet silky skins. She smashed each one till the pits popped out. Then she put a handful of pine nuts in a small pan, leaving them to toast while she slivered the olives.

On the windowsill was a planter with lemon thyme, oregano, rosemary and basil. Ruby pulled off several stems of oregano plus a few sprigs of thyme and dropped them in the pan with the shallots and garlic. A few minutes later she added the diced tomatoes, slivered olives and a small red
cherry pepper. The fragrance of the herb and tomato mixture permeated the kitchen and wafted through the apartment. Issam called out, “When are we eating?” Ruby laughed and called back, “When it's done.”

I will definitely teach my child to cook and enjoy a meal with company
, she thought as she splashed a glass of red wine into the mix.

As the linguine cooked, she rubbed some cut garlic into the halves of demi-baguette she had bought at the store that day, brushed the bread with olive oil and placed it in the hot oven. She tore up some basil leaves and tossed them into the sauce, along with several pinches of red chili flakes. Then she added several large handfuls of fresh tiger shrimp, making sure to not overcook them. She drained the linguine, saving some pasta water for the sauce, and then tossed everything together in the pan. She poured the whole into a ceramic bowl, sprinkled on the pine nuts and more basil, and then grated some parmesan on top. She called Issam to come bring the pasta, while she carried in the bread and the wine.

“If I could afford it, I'd hire you both to cook for me,” said Emma as she smiled into her plate. “This is great.”

“Thanks, hon. Let's toast to new beginnings for us all.”

Issam solemnly raised his glass to the others and clinked dutifully. Ruby wondered how his conversation with Emma had gone.

That night Issam came to her. He looked at her and shook his head slowly. “I don't want to leave you and I don't want you to leave me. But what can we do? I don't think this is any
way to bring a child into the world, and you'll never get me to agree with you.”

Ruby sat cross-legged on the floor, alone in her apartment, the music of Sade wafting over her. She was packing a trunk—pictures and paintings, mounds of records—all the items that she had collected over the years. She wrapped up the hand-painted Italian dishes, the assortment of teacups and teapots, all plucked from flea markets across the city. She came across a beautifully beaded earthen coffeepot alongside bags of sandalwood, ridged and dark with fragrance. She envisioned the tales of Sudanese women seated naked in firepits hot and steamy as saunas, absorbing the scent into their skin, cleansing and renewing themselves as they rubbed their bodies till they shone like midnight pearls. She took out a piece and lit it, placed it in the ashtray on the coffee table behind her and watched the smoke rise towards the ceiling.

Ruby got up to change the music to something bluesier. Her fingers strayed over a cork box with a glass lid that encased an exquisite egg, hand-painted in shades of blue for her by Werner's mother. She lifted it out of its nest and cradled it in the palm of her hand. She recalled how his family had embraced her and smoothed her transition to a foreign culture. Even as she sought to whittle away at the obstacles Werner had placed around her and break free from his control, even as she prepared to leave behind the city she had called home for many years, she had never forgotten his parents' love.

She smiled as she placed the egg against her cheek, taking in the cool ripple of shell. She carefully placed it back in its box, and chose to wrap it up in the old red-and-white kaffiyeh that Issam had so often worn at Café Babanussa. Adrift in the old, she dreamed of something new.

One day she was resting at home when there was a loud knock on the door. When Ruby pulled open the door, there stood Abena. She was dressed in black pants, and her top was a mix of vibrant greens and black, the patterns of a kente cloth. Ruby saw that stretching out from the greyish circles beneath Abena's eyes were a few fine, feathery lines. She was still struggling. But she hugged Ruby as hard as ever and her voice was bright when she said, “Get your stuff, we're going out.” Ruby grabbed a shoulder bag and put on some flats and they went down the stairs. Abena moved slowly, taking the steps one at a time. Ruby offered her hand, but Abena brushed her off and said, “I don't need that kind of help. So, just to let you know, we're going to Kreuzberg. Near Gleisdreieck. I want you to see this place and maybe you'll go back.” Ruby asked for more details, but Abena just waved her hands. “Shh.” Then, “Tell me about your plans.” They sat down in the subway.

“Well, before I do that I have some other news. I'm pregnant.”

Abena almost fell off her seat. “Oh, I'm going to be an auntie. Does this mean you'll stay?”

“Not at all. In fact, it underlines even more the need to go
home. Issam is leaving, Emma is leaving. I can't raise a child by myself here. I'm worried about my health, but also about the racism. I don't think I could manage it. I'd like to be near my family.”

“I can't believe you're leaving. I'm still here, I could help out.”

“I know you could and you would. You'd be wonderful. But I need more than a couple of friends. It's been five fantastic years, but I think the spirits are telling me it's time to go. You'll just have to fly over sometime, and of course I'll come back to visit with baby in tow.”

The women stepped out of the subway and locked arms as they walked slowly down the street. Abena soon stopped in front of a store named Zeitgeist. “We're here,” she said.

The front room was like a hive, with young people rushing back and forth. They were mainly Turkish and German and they were busy printing out and organizing flyers about an upcoming demo and stacking posters that listed their services. A few people were on the phone. There was a meeting going on in one of the back rooms. Zeitgest also offered counselling for foreigners, and there was someone who was assigned to deal with racist incidents, to help people decide whether to go to the police or not. Ruby was surprised to see Isaac, the Black drummer from Dom's old band, talking strategy with a young German fellow. They hugged and high-fived each other, and she asked what he was doing there.

“Aw, I'm just here to help out in whatever way I can. Postering, leafleting in the cafés, you know. You should come
to the demo next week. And the day after tomorrow there's a meeting about ways to influence public policy.”

Abena turned to Ruby and said, “I just wanted you to know that there are people who care and want to make a difference.”

They didn't stay for much longer and went to sit on the patio of one of the neighbourhood's many cafés. It was getting warmer now, and a light breeze rustled through the nearby trees. Ruby looked at Abena and felt sad to be losing another friend.

Despite everything, Ruby had loved living in Europe. She loved having history envelop her as she strolled the streets; she loved the French word
flâner
—to amble along, or to hang around. It applied here, too—you could stroll until you came across the perfect café or
Biergarten
and then just sit and absorb the sights, sounds and smells. Even more, though, Ruby thought about the tight circle of friends that had helped protect her from the dark elements of Berlin. She would especially miss Emma and Abena's steady presence. She wondered if she would find such incredible people to surround herself with back home in Toronto. Indeed, could she ever call Toronto home again? Ruby loved her family deeply, but she had spent years running away from them and she no longer knew if they would understand her. Still, she felt she could count on them to be there for her even if they didn't recognize her anymore. She could just hear her father muttering, “I knew it. I knew she'd have to come home and straighten herself out.”