Read Being Celeste Online

Authors: Tshetsana Senau

Being Celeste (3 page)

Kate cringed. “Honestly, they are not my
type. They may be good looking, but not enough for me to cyber stalk them.”

I really didn’t hear what she said. While
she was talking I was looking at the many photos of one Taboka on
facebook
.
He didn’t have a bad side. Before then I was browsing through his profile. We
like the same music, rock music. And he’s into movies, just like I am...and he plays
the guitar...he can write a song about our love. We are perfect for each other,
we were meant to meet. It’s fate, all of it. I bookmarked the page, which
wasn’t really necessary because when I got home, I was going to see him on the
big screen of my computer monitor. I was so excited about the future now. Kate
went back to her cash register and started filing papers properly into a blue
file, probably inventory. She decided to leave my gift and I alone.

Chapter 3

Yes, blue Tuesday
for Kate. This time she’s managed to surprise
me
. I never thought I’d
see this much blue in one place in my life...then again, I’ve never been to the
ocean side, but a knitted blue dress, really? Where did she get it from? I
don’t remember her mentioning a shopping spree. I wonder if she realises I hate
her outfits. Gosh, I forgot to look for that newspaper last night. It should be
my first priority tonight. It’s no surprise I forgot. I’ve been so caught up
with Taboka, ever since yesterday. I practically know everything about him
now...well, what’s online I guess. I found out that he’s very much into
athletics, and he’s won numerous awards for his soccer skills. He appeared in
the newspapers and all. I’m going to get married to a soccer player, a famous
one. Boy, I know how to pick them! The last thing I saw last night before I
dozed off was him. I couldn’t help it, it’s very hard to take my eyes off him,
it’s like I’ve been hypnotized, I’m under his spell.

“Celeste, please don’t tell me that you’re
still thinking about that idiot!” said Kate, coming from behind me.

 I was starring into the parking lot,
hoping to see the bus drive in like yesterday. I know Monday madness was
yesterday, but I don’t need it anymore, I have something specific now that I
hope for...wait, did she just call my future husband an idiot? The nerve! I’ll
see how she likes it when I don’t make her my maid of honour. I’ll let it
slide, as there are no other candidates for the position of maid of honour.
Kate’s my one and only. “Did you know that the university soccer team are here
for three months? They are attending a soccer boot camp somewhere on the
outskirts of town,” I said, a smile gradually piling on my face.

Kate rolled her eyes. She rolled her eyes
at me. First she calls my Taboka an idiot, and then she rolls her eyes at me. I
want to point out that this is all her fault. If she hadn’t searched for him
online I would have forgotten about my man of mystery. I would have let him lie
with all my memories, but in the wonderful ‘to keep’ pile, of course. Who would
forget that good looking man? I reached for my phone and checked for any status
updates on his profile. Maybe I should send him a friendship request. No. He’d
think I was a stalker.

Kate towered over me to see what I was
doing on my phone. “Hmm, why don’t you send him a friendship request?” She
chuckled, I sensed
idiot
in the chuckle. “You know, I don’t think I
really like this dude...I mean for you,” she continued. “He’s not your type. I
wonder why you’re so smitten.”

I wanted to take something and whack her
with it so that she could see clearly. “Kate, my dear Kate! Clearly there’s
something wrong with you,” I replied, with a worried smile on my face.

“No there isn’t. Look at him Celeste, he’s
not boyfriend material. Plus, he looks like a kid. How old is he?”

“Twenty. I’m just a year older than him.” I
hurried over to the jeans rack to tag them because I knew where this
conversation was going.

“I knew it. You can’t date a guy younger
than you, it’s all wrong. You’d be like a...cougar. That’s intense. Your first
boyfriend and
you
are a cougar? Shouldn’t you preserve that stage for
when you are middle aged and hopeless with love?”

“Kate, it’s just a year. I’m sure I
wouldn’t qualify for being a cougar, it’s ridiculous.”

“By definition, a cougar is an older woman.
You’re
older
than him.”

“It doesn’t matter. So you want to tell me
that you wouldn’t go out with a guy you
really
liked, because you found
out he was younger than you by a year, or even a few months?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t. It’s wrong.”

Oh gosh, she’s insane. What’s
wrong
is her blue outfit!

“Kate, I love you, but sometimes you are a
little crazy,” I finally said.

“And you are a cougar!” she snickered and
walked off to write something behind the counter.

I think she thought she won. She made a
ruling and I had lost. The word cougar doesn’t bother me very much, but I have
no idea how to respond to Kate. How do I tell her off and make her see what I
see? It shouldn’t matter, I will fight for our love, mine and Taboka’s. We shall
make it work. I will be a cougar to the hottest cub in the land, and everyone
will swallow their words. It should strike me strange thinking like this. He
doesn’t even know who I am. He probably never even saw me yesterday. I have to
devise a plan for him to notice me, the next time he comes around. I can’t
exactly kidnap him and then dawn on him the news of our marriage on the day of
our wedding, now can I? That’s going to take some work though. It deserves a
Saturday evening at Kate’s. Hopefully she stops calling him an idiot. Until
then, something or someone, help me to stop peering into the parking area,
hoping for a bus to come along. Even as far as I’m standing, at the back of the
store, tagging jeans on sale, I can’t help but look forward every thirty
seconds. This sucks. Oh wait, a customer...no, it’s just my dad. Oh, look at
that, him and Kate’s thinking may have been in the same frequency today. He’s
wearing blue jeans and he has zipped his blue jacket all the way up. I wonder
what he’s cooking in there, because I think it’s done. Oh, it’s embarrassing.
Zipping his jacket has outlined that belly of his that he so adores.

“Afternoon ladies,” he said, feeling rather
chummy.

“Mr Mokone, good afternoon to you too,”
replied Kate. She was rather chummy as well.

I couldn’t be bothered with the happy mood,
because I was beyond stressed with my imaginary love life.

“I just came to see how you ladies were
doing, and check on the shop,” he said, looking around while standing in the
same position. My father was more of a behind the scenes kind of man. I mean,
ignoring his enormous height, I think he’s like 1.9 metres tall, and his
massive self (he’s the reason why I’m overweight. Because he wanted a mate in
that department, I’m pretty sure he fed me all kinds of junk when I was a baby,
so that I could balloon like him.). But he never really paid much attention to
anything except his sleep and feeding. Mum must have put him up to this, coming
to check on the shop. She’s been gone for two days now, gone to the city to
check on my older sister, Bontle. They are both retired, my parents. My mother
spends her days swamped in church activities, while
he
spends his days
thinking about his next trip to the cattle post.

“So how’s everything?” he asked, still
standing on the same spot.

“Fine,” replied Kate, writing something
down behind the till point. She’s always writing, I wonder what.

“It’s been a slow day,” I said. “That’s
what happens in the middle of the month, people are broke.”

He smiled. I think he was just proud that I
was here, in the family business, talking about slow days and what not. “Oh,
your mother asked me to tell you that she ordered more leather coats over the
phone this morning. They should be here tomorrow.”

Great, more coats, more tagging.

“I have to leave for the cattle post in an
hour. So you’ll be home alone tonight.”

I don’t know why, but the term home alone
just gives me a rush of adrenaline in my body. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the
independence, hidden in it...or peace and quiet. I start feeling like I’m all
that. “That’s okay dad, Kate will come and sleep over, keep me company,” I
said. Although it would be great being home alone, I can’t actually do it.
Besides, Kate doesn’t mind. I looked over to where she was, still scribbling
and pressing the calculator. Was she pretending to be busy to give my father
and me space to talk? I don’t know. What is she adding?

“That’s good, good!” he folded his arms
over his belly. “I left the meat out of the freezer, so you girls have fun
tonight. Oh, here.” He came over and handed me twenty Pula. “Buy yourself
snacks or something. Mum should be back tomorrow.” Then he left.

That’s my father, the behind the scenes
man. If it were my mother, she’d still be in the shop, throwing directions and
comments left and right...and she wouldn’t have given me money for snacks. One
day I should offer to go to the cattle post with my father. I can’t help but
shake the feeling that he is lonely, which is why he is so behind the scenes
all the time. He doesn’t have a son to go to the cattle post with. It’s just me
and my older sister. She’s been living in the city for two years now, ever
since she graduated from law school. She is a big shot lawyer now. It’s just me
at home with the folks. I’m sure dad would appreciate me offering my time out
of my busy schedule and love life to accompany him to his beloved home away
from home. I can only imagine the trip there. Knowing him, he would buy all the
snacks in the shop so that we would be well set for the trip. That’s why I like
travelling with him, because we are always sorted in the food department.

“Celeste!” called Kate.

Imagining over!

“Yes, what is it, my dear Kate?” I replied,
leaving my thoughts behind.

“The bus, it’s here!”

The bus, it’s here! Pick me up and throw me
in the air, the bus is here! My gosh, what am I wearing, is it good enough? The
bus is here...well hang on, why is Kate so excited? After calling me a cougar,
why is she excited?

“You should go over to the supermarket
right now,” she ordered.

I stopped
my
excitement. “But I
thought you said I was a cougar.”

She giggled. “You are, but you have to
start somewhere.” She laughed. “Go on, go on then. Look, look, they are
climbing out. And they don’t have their uniform on this time.”

I should go, I thought, to the supermarket.
I should follow them. I turned and brushed a look at my image in the huge
mirror on the wall, to see if everything was in order. That was it then, I
couldn’t go. I couldn’t let Taboka see me. I was a mess and half. Then like
clockwork, cue in the insecurity. I was wearing my work clothes: a pair of blue
jeans, a striped button up shirt and a black blazer. At that moment I thought I
looked like a forty-something mother of two, who had let herself go. I felt fat
and pathetic, a wholesome combination, my fat had made me unattractive. An
idiot loser like me would never grab the attention of a star soccer player like
Taboka. Who was I kidding, I’m not going over to the supermarket, my confidence
has been shot down by the terrible blob of fat I am. Look at my arms, just
about to burst the seams of my blazer, and my round cheeks. You know, I used to
have dimples, but I’ll bet they are covered up by the fat in my cheeks. I think
if one of my thighs were to be cut in half, they would still be fat. Who put
this mirror here anyway?...oh, it was me, for the customers. I don’t get it
though, a while ago I felt amazing thinking about the family and my marriage.
But my head was in the clouds I guess; reality always shows me that I have no
confidence whatsoever. I’m not going, never mind. I won’t let my future husband
see me like
this
.

“That’s okay Kate, I’ll watch from here,” I
finally said.

Kate looked at me like I was from another
planet. After a while she sighed and said, “Fine,
I’ll
go. Besides, I
feel like having some juice, so I’ll spy for you.”

I wonder if she sensed the usual lack of
confidence in my voice. I smiled. Kate, she is such a darling, and my best
friend. Go get them, tiger! I thought. “Oh, okay. Get me some juice too then,”
I said. I trusted she would come with all the lo-down, relevant I might add.
Kate was the world’s number one boy stalker. I learned all these tricks from
her, you know. I watched her literally hop out of the boutique, like a
messenger going to get some good gossip. I was in between, feeling bad about
the person I was, on the outside, but excited because of what Kate was doing.
It was very thrilling actually. But now I guess you know why I don’t have a
boyfriend. I’m an insecure fat girl, without direction. Who would want to date
me, right? However, I cherish the day, once it comes, when I get to eat up my
words like the lunch I had today. Chew them up and spit them out because they
are terrible words, and that was a terrible lunch. I can’t wait to have a
boyfriend, you know, it makes my heart beat a whole lot faster. It makes it
pound even louder when I think about it, louder and more passionate than the
beat of a Setswana drum, playing along to traditional dance. Yes, that’s it. I
feel impatience rushing along with the blood in my veins, when I think about
it. I just don’t know how I’m going to get to that place. It’s like there’s a
huge barrier just pinning me down, but I can see the place, almost touch it
even, I just can’t get across. My friend from secondary school, Malebogo,
called me the other day; she’s in university, to give me an update on her life.
She’s on two years with her man, and they met when she was in first year. I’ve
seen pictures of him too online. He’s super fit and they look so cute together.
I don’t think she calls to gloat, she would never do that, but it’s all she
talks about, her beloved boyfriend. Then she never fails to ask about my
non-existent boyfriend. She jokes about it all the time. I’m worried, and I
wonder how Kate feels about all of this. I won’t bother her though, as she’s
gone through an
accident,
she’s one level higher than I am. I shouldn’t
bother her with problems from those below or on level one. But she knows how I
feel. I just don’t like talking about it. How did it get so bad, how did I let
myself get this
old
?

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