39
Zulu Truths
In the weeks that followed the luncheon with Rogers, Iris thought long and hard about their discussion. Worst of all, she longed for her Pietro with every fiber of her being.
As was her habit, such was her need, she sought the wisdom of her surrogate mothers. They sat on Lena’s rickety single bed, waiting for Sofie. Buffer lay at their feet. A single kerosene lamp burned in the corner.
“How do you sleep on this thing?” Iris’s vivid imagination had large Lena spewing over the sides of the bed like wet dough flapping over the edge of a pie pan.
Lena sniffed indignantly. “I am perfectly comfortable, thank you,” she said, imitating the mother’s most haughty voice. As was the Zulu custom, her bed was elevated with bricks so, as folklore had it, the Tokolosh, who was small in
