Telegrams of the Soul

Complications

Akolé, lovely like a bust by Barbédienne* cast in bronze, a young man of means wants to possess you!

In your kinky hair you wear the little gold comb he gave you!

He comes driving up in a horse-drawn carriage. His Mother wears a hat bedecked with French violets and greets you, all smiles, Akolé: “It would be an ideal moment in Victor’s life, his very salvation. The girl speaks no language. We have her under our thumb. She’s ours. I think she likes me. What could she possibly want?! Another string of glass beads and another. And a silk umbrella and sandals. She’s black, not everyone’s cup of tea, dumb to the world. No complications de l’âme.† I dare say she’d be an ideal moment in his life, medicine for his indolent played-out soul, a veritable tonic. Something special, I tell you, like a trip abroad or a year of military service. Something transformative, exhilarating. Some thing like an episode in the life of an artist, a poet. Later, well that’s another story, isn’t it—?!

“Akolé—,” says Ofulu Ahadjí, “misumo (I love you)—.”

“Akolé—,” says Peter A., “return to Akkra—!”

“Akolé—!” says the young man of means who wants to possess her.

The mother says nothing, just plants soft kisses on her forehead—.

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*Ferdinand Barbédienne, 1810–1892, a caster of bronze replicas of famous sculptures

†Complications of the soul