Part 14 (1/2)

”Very wise,” said Mma Potokwane. ”We had to get the bigger orphans out to push one or two trucks that got stuck just outside our drive. It was very difficult. All the orphans were covered in red mud and we had to hose them down in the yard.”

”It looks like we will get good rains this year,” said Mma Ramotswe. ”That will be a very good thing for the country.”

The kettle in the corner of the room began to hiss and Mma Potokwane arose to make tea.

”I have no cake to give you,” she said. ”I made a cake yesterday, but people have eaten every last crumb of it. It is as if the locusts had been here.”

”People are very greedy,” said Mma Ramotswe. ”It would have been nice to have some cake. But I am not going to sit here and think about it.”

They drank their tea in comfortable silence. Then Mma Ramotswe spoke.

”I thought I might take Mr J.L.B. Matekoni out for a run in the van,” she ventured. ”Do you think he might like that?”

Mma Potokwane smiled. ”He would like it very much. He has been very quiet since he came here, but I have found out that there is something that he has been doing. I think it is a good sign.”

”What is that?”

”He has been helping with that little boy,” said Mma Potokwane. ”You know the one that I asked you to find out something about? You remember that one?”

”Yes,” said Mma Ramotswe, hesitantly. ”I remember that little boy.”

”Did you find out anything?” asked Mma Potokwane.

”No,” said Mma Ramotswe. ”I do not think that there is much that I can find out. But I do have an idea about that boy. It is just an idea.”

Mma Potokwane slipped a further spoon of sugar into her tea and stirred it gently with a teaspoon.

”Oh yes? What's your idea?”

Mma Ramotswe frowned. ”I do not think that my idea would help,” she said. ”In fact, I think it would not be helpful.”

Mma Potokwane raised her teacup to her lips. She took a long sip of tea and then replaced the cup carefully on the table.

”I think I know what you mean, Mma,” she said. ”I think that I have had the same idea. But I cannot believe it. Surely it cannot be true.”

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. ”That is what I have said to myself. People talk about these things, but they have never proved it, have they? They say that there are these wild children and that every so often somebody finds one. But do they ever actually prove that they have been brought up by animals? Is there any proof?”

”I have never heard of any,” said Mma Potokwane.

”And if we told anybody what we think about this little boy, then what would happen? The newspapers would be full of it. There would be people coming from all over the world. They would probably try to take the boy off to live somewhere where they could look at him. They would take him outside Botswana.”

”No,” said Mma Potokwane. ”The Government would never allow that.”

”I don't know about that,” said Mma Ramotswe. ”They might. You can't be sure.”

They sat silently. Then Mma Ramotswe spoke. ”I think that there are some matters that are best left undisturbed,” she said. ”We don't want to know the answer to everything.”