SOMETIME DURING THE night, I had fallen asleep on the swing, and Jack had carried me to bed. I might have awoken when he scooped me up, but the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms was so delicious that I’d faked it. And then replayed it over and over in my head until I’d fallen back to sleep.
This is it, little sis, I thought, when I got up the next morning. We’re going to pick up the last two kids on your list and get them to Wanza.
There was no answer, and for a while, I wondered if it was some sort of sign from her, a warning not to go. I shook off my unease and got out of bed. I was making things up—my conversations with Mo, and now the silences too.
I had filled my parents in on what was happening. They weren’t too happy that Jack and I would be away for the next few days. They had lost one daughter and they wanted the other one back, safe and sound. A part of me longed to head home to them, and to my little stone cottage by the river, but another part, the part that had shifted and changed, felt a sharp pang at the thought of leaving. It was also the part that leaped to life when Jack opened his door, at the opposite end of the hallway, with sleep-rumpled hair, and nothing but his boxers on.
Good God, imagine waking up to that every day.
He was half-shadowed as he stood in the corridor, but it turned his body into a sculpted study in light and dark. For a quick, satisfying beat, his self-contained demeanor slipped, as his eyes raked over my bare shoulder, grazing the skin where my top had slipped off.
“Thank you for umm . . . carrying me up the stairs last night,” I said, attempting to cut through the crackling that happened whenever we got within a few feet of each other.
Jack didn’t say anything, but he must have caught the flush on my face, because a corner of his mouth turned up, but just barely, as if he’d been in on the whole thing all along.
Well, I’m not sorry. Not sorry at all.
“Good morning.” Bahati came out of his room, looked left at me, looked right at Jack, and then made a beeline for the bathroom.
“Hey, I was going to—”
“You snooze, you lose,” he taunted, shutting the door on me.
“Shh. Keep it down!” Goma stuck her head out of her room. “Scholastica and I have been up all night.”
“Everything okay?” asked Jack.
“She’s running a fever. I’ve given her something for it, but she’s in no condition to go anywhere today.”
Goma held the door open so Jack and I could step inside. Scholastica was sleeping with the covers thrown off.
“Her skin feels clammy,” said Jack, sitting down beside her.
“We can’t leave without her.” I pressed my palm to her forehead. It was hot to the touch.
“We have to. Today is the day Mo and Gabriel are supposed to be picking up the kid in Maymosi.”
“Sumuni,” I said. I had memorized all their names. “But what about Scholastica? I promised Anna I’d get her to Wanza.”
“And we will. Correction. I will. You have to catch a plane when we get back. I’ll make another trip after you leave. In the meantime, we’ll let Anna know there’s been a delay. I don’t think it matters, as long as she’s assured that Scholastica is safe.”
“What’s going on?” Bahati piped in, checking in on us.
“It’s Scholastica. She’s sick. She can’t go with Ro and me today,” replied Jack. “Can you stay a little longer? Until I get back?”
“But Jack, it’s so bori—” He stopped mid-sentence as Jack announced a figure. “I can get new tires for Suzi with that amount. And then all she’ll need are new seats. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like it here, but I miss The Grand Tulip. The guests, the pretty girls, the movies, the resta—”
“You want in or not?” asked Jack.
“Fine,” replied Bahati. “I’m in.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” huffed Goma. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and Scholastica. But if you’re staying on, no more hollering for me or Scholastica to check for lizards under your bed at night. Clear?”
Bahati had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Anyone want breakfast?” He dashed out without waiting for an answer.
By the time I went downstairs, he had coffee brewing and was helping Jack load the car.
“You’ll be all right?” Jack asked Goma when she came to see us off.
“Fine. And so will Scholastica.” She wasn’t one to hug or kiss goodbye. “It’s this one I’m worried about.” She tipped her head toward Bahati.
“What do you mean?” he said. “No one takes me seriously around here. This is why I—”
Jack started the car, drowning out the rest of his comments.
“Bye, Goma.” I waved as we backed out of the garage. “Bye, Donkey Hottie.”
The clouds hung low that morning, muting the trail of dust we left behind. We passed riverine forests and wooded hills with towering termite mounds. Other times, the landscape turned dry and brown, with nothing but scruffy bush for miles. Then the road snaked around the Great Rift Valley, offering sweeping views that took my breath away. This vast trench in the earth's crust stretches from the Middle East in the north to Mozambique in the south. It is also the single most significant physical detail on the planet, visible from space. To be driving along it, hugging the steep walls, where I had once pointed it out on the map to my students, was completely surreal. Across the horizon, not too far in the distance, colossal thunderclouds trailed shawls of rain across vistas as wide as the sea.