The work is finished. The men are resting, some sitting in the short grass, others leaning on their machetes. Some shrubs had to be sawed down because their trunks were too thick to be cut with a simple machete. A saw is therefore one of the agricultural tools that intrigues the marmoset. It has as many teeth as a crocodile! Alerted by his wife, the Major has returned from town to hastily inspect the work that has been done. She would like the seedlings to leave with him, taking advantage of the jeep. After three days of hard labor, she did not want to send them back under the blazing sun, not out of compassion but for fear that they would linger along the way, giving rise to gossip and ridicule.
The gardener, armed with a large scythe, found himself alone with the child, who was stunned by this unfamiliar tool. He was not entirely comfortable with this responsibility. He gathered up the tools and headed for the house, hoping to find a woman who would take this troublesome grandson under her wing. Fortunately, Maama is watching over the kitchen and hurries to pick him up! She chats a little with the lad and gives him a large glass of cool water, which delights him. They have sweated blood and water to clear the edges of the garden.
Mom will be home soon; she went to the post office to see if the letter she's waiting for from her husband has finally arrived. In the meantime, Maama keeps the little boy busy by letting him help her in a fun way. She's peeling potatoes. He has to take them out of the rinsing bucket and hand them one by one to her expert hands. The quick work of the knife fascinates the child, his eyes wide. How magical it is to see the soft, moist yellow flesh revealed when the brown skin dotted with black spots falls away!
This lasts for seven potatoes, and then the toddler escapes from the stool, paying only half-hearted attention to the cook's warnings: “Be careful! The nasty snake might still be there!” Without fully understanding the message, he senses the veiled threat and stops at the edge of the garden, as if this invisible boundary could stop such a formidable attacker.
The change in landscape intrigues him. Where has that belt of bushes gone? A multitude of birds gather on the low branches of nearby trees. They seem to be gossiping about humans, lamenting the loss of their nest or the shrub that fed them berries. A few insectivores feast on the carpet of leaves, superbly ignoring the cats too lazy to do anything but whip their tails without moving the rest of their bodies. In any case, they would arrive too late if they felt like pouncing on one of these daredevils! The little one tries to explain himself to the winged creatures: “Ssha!” This lisping whistle brings back very bad memories for some! Chirping even louder, they suddenly fly away and disappear into the high foliage, from where they insult the universe without taking any risks.
Curiously, the drama that has unfolded seems to have little effect on the cats. Two or three of them end up wandering around the clearing, searching for enticing smells. There are so many of them now that they no longer hide, and it's hard to tell that two are missing. An unfortunate mouse has the bad idea of coming out of its hole at that moment. It squeaks in a high-pitched tone when it sees a pink mouth full of sharp teeth swooping down on it. Pinched to the ground by sharp, painful claws, it struggles miserably. His majesty the wildcat releases his grip and lets the gray fluff ball, screaming in pain, slip away. It will die quickly because nothing is more infectious than a cat scratch. He doesn't even bother to make it his toy. The child has watched the scene and feels a vague uneasiness. Animals definitely behave differently from humans!
Determined to resume his exploration, he discovers a wooden handle and a metal blade. It shines on its sharp edge and is rusty on the other, flatter side. It looks like a large knife with a curved tip. One of the men used this tool to cut branches. Why not try it himself? How heavy it is! The tool slips from his hands. “Don't touch it!” Maama was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She leaps from her seat with unexpected agility given her imposing size. She rushes over: “It's a machete! You fools! You careless people!” Too bad! He would have liked to play with this strange object. He flashes a gentle smile at his guardian, who grumbles simplistic remarks about the recklessness of men.
The child headed back toward the edge of the forest. “Come back here!” This time, she wouldn't let him go. This boy seemed to have a certain propensity for seeking disaster! She held the machete in one hand and buried one of his slightly reluctant hands in the other. Goodbye freedom! This calloused hand differs from those of the other women he knows, but there is one thing that both hands have in common: they are plump, to varying degrees, of course! They make a surprising couple. She is huge and protective, he is tiny and intrigued by adventure. He senses the adult's irritation but does not understand the reasons for it.
At that moment, an angel appears. She has slipped her head through the bushes that line the forest and is watching the humans who have stopped to look at her. She has large, light-colored ears that move in all directions. Her face is downy and pointed, she has a shiny black nose, but what is most striking are her large, beautiful brown eyes. Instinctively, the little boy understood that he must not scream. Maama whispers in his ear: “Antelope!” Reassured by the lack of movement on the part of the humans, she emerges from the protective bushes. Could she, too, be intrigued by the change that has come over the garden? She stops two meters away from the woman and child and watches them. They remain motionless, Maama tender and smiling, the little boy's mouth open. Her coat is brown and slightly shiny, with darker patches on her back and whiter patches on her belly. Her neck is adorned with a natural scarf that is slightly lighter in color. She has black horns, twisted and devilishly pointed. “Did you see that? She has socks as black as the tips of her ears.” Maama whispers, drawing the child's attention to this surprising detail.
The animal seems to enjoy being observed and begins to graze on cut leaves. From time to time, she glances moistly at her admiring audience. The cats have become discreet, some hiding, a little worried. The visitor shakes her ears to get rid of intrusive flies. The child laughs. The intrigued gazelle stands up to listen to this strange cascade of sounds. “Shhh!” says Maama, “You'll scare her away!” And the little boy makes a great discovery as he looks into the African woman's eyes. They are the same as those of the antelope angel! The same color, the same velvety softness, the same gentleness. The four irises look as deep as the night. He feels very happy since this realization, and points to the head of the ruminant.
At that moment, a car arrives, it is the ladies returning. Hop, hop! In two miraculous leaps of lightness and power, the antelope melts into the discreet shadows of the nearby forest. The little boy escapes and runs, very excited, to his mother to tell her what happened. He wants to talk about the mouse and his encounter with the angel, but how can he explain to the young woman, intrigued by so much excitement, that the eyes of the robust Maama and those of the delicate antelope were the same? It is time to use the words that come out of the mouths of adults, because gestures, onomatopoeia, and cries are no longer enough to make himself understood.
Fortunately, Maama is there to tell the story! “We won't tell your father about this, otherwise...” decrees Grandmother, who is usually less sensitive but refuses to shatter her grandson's dream: “She might come back!” She probably thinks that the unfortunate story of the monkey and the dramatic disappearance of the two cats are enough for her first grandchild's first experience.
For a long time, the child believed that Maama and the antelope were sisters, and people laughed at him when he said so. One day, he decided to keep it to himself. He never spoke of it again, wondering if he had dreamed it, even doubting the memory, silencing his deep conviction that he was right. Because they were sisters, that was certain!