City of Saints & Thieves(76)

But this man was different. He asked too many questions. Said the names out loud that everyone else knew to whisper.

When the loud woman found out that the quiet one had spoken to him, she was terrified. She told the quiet one to stop, but the quiet one said she was tired of being silent.

? ? ?

The war came back, like the loud one knew it would. It came the very night after the quiet one talked to the white man. This time it didn’t come for goats or cattle. It came for the two girls, now women. It chased them into the forest. It put its hands on them, and said, These are still mine. And it took them back to the terrible kingdom.

Only the child escaped.

? ? ?

There was no digging this time. Only hell. The two women were separated, and the loud one could hear the screaming of the quiet one, and she screamed herself, and thought about letting her soul drift away and not come back. But she knew she couldn’t because that would mean leaving the quiet one alone.

? ? ?

But then, four days later, the quiet one was gone.

The men came in screaming for her, “Where did she go? Where did she go?” They beat the loud one, who was not so loud anymore. They put their knives in the fire and laid them sizzling on her legs. But it didn’t matter. The not-so-loud woman didn’t know how her friend had escaped, or where she had gone. All she knew was that the quiet one, who had become not-so-quiet, had left her.

She was alone in the terrible kingdom.

They beat her almost to death. But as they really only cared about the once-quiet woman, eventually they lost interest. They packed up their camp and left the once-loud woman there, alone on the forest floor. And when the once-loud woman realized she wasn’t going to die, there was nothing to do but go home.

? ? ?

And there she was still alone, except for the seed in her belly. A strange thing, because it should not have survived. But it did, which was lucky, or awful. Or both, because it was the only thing that clung to her soul and kept it from flying away for good.





THIRTY-FIVE


When Cathi is done she gets up and brushes the dirt from her dress. She walks to the edge of the forest and stands looking into it, like she’s waiting for someone to appear.

? ? ?

It’s late in the afternoon when we speak again, and we only do because Ruth comes back full of chatter. She’s had her hair braided by Nyanya Florence’s granddaughter and wants us both to compliment her. It’s enough to ease us both back into the real world.

“Very pretty,” I tell her, and she beams. She doesn’t look like Kiki, but I can’t help thinking again of my sister. I feel an ache in my chest, an urge to protect this girl I’ve only just met. It must make Cathi crazy, thinking the same thing that happened to her could someday happen to her daughter. They are so far from town, just on the edge of the jungle, and Cathi knows the men are still out there. Suddenly the AK-47 and two giant dogs seem very reasonable.

“Will you stay for dinner, Christina?” Ruth asks.

“I should go back to the hospital,” I say.

“Are you still sick?”

“No, I’m better now,” I say. “We’re staying at the guesthouse there.”

Cathi frowns. “It will be dark very soon. Maybe you should stay the night again.”

“My friends will be wondering where I am,” I say reluctantly. And there’s still Kiki to think about. I need to get back to call Bug Eye and head off any more visits from Ketchup. Running away like a madwoman in the rain left me not only shoeless but phoneless. Not that I would have had service up here, I bet. I’ve stayed too long already. But it’s hard to leave. Cathi has started dinner out back and the smell of onions and garlic and chilies is making my stomach growl. It’s familiar, this place. Even if I can’t really remember it, the sense of home is here.

“I thought those boys would come looking for you,” Cathi says, “and you could walk back to town with them.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I don’t need an escort.”

“I will go up the hill and call Father Fidele on my mobile. He can meet you halfway, at least. No one will bother you if you are with him.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” I say. “I’m sure he’s busy.”

But Cathi ignores me and takes her phone out to the field and walks up the hill. I hear her talking and feel a surge of fondness for Father Fidele, even though I’ve barely met him. He must know what Cathi does to survive, and yet she’s still able to call on him for help.

“He’s coming,” Cathi says when she returns. “If you stay on the main path you’ll meet him.”

I stand up, ready to go. “Bye, Ruth.”

“Good-bye, Christina.”

I take the photo of Cathi and my mother out of my pocket and hold it out to her. “Keep it,” I say.

Catherine takes it from me like it’s as fragile as a butterfly wing. She tucks it in between the pages of her Bible.

“Thank you, Cathi,” I say, swallowing hard to keep from crying.

She places her hand on Ruth’s shoulder. They watch me with the same bright eyes. “We will pray for Anju. And you.”

“Will you come back someday?” Ruth asks softly.

“I hope so.”

“You are welcome,” Cathi says. “You are family.”