Mists of the Serengeti(47)

“Big lessons from a little girl,” I replied. “I wish I’d met her.”

“You would have liked her. I lived for the times when she came to visit. I loved watching her race across the plains, in grass that was almost as tall as her. She was my flower, my rising sun. Blue jeans and a rainbow T-shirt.” He rocked his foot, setting the swing into a soft, lulling motion. “Nothing’s going to hurt you or those kids, Rodel. I’ve been at war ever since I lost Lily, only I don’t know who with. And it kills me. Because every fiber of my being wants to find them and destroy them, and I can’t. But if anyone . . . if anyone touches a hair on your head or tries to harm those children, I will rip them apart. I don’t want to play by the rules anymore. I don’t want to see them behind bars. I don’t want them getting a fair trial. I want them dead. I will put them six feet under, Rodel, so help me God.”

He clasped my hand under the blanket and threaded his fingers through mine. He’d held my hand once before, but this felt different, possessive—like he was staking his claim. A curious swooping pulled at my insides. We both knew there was a line we couldn’t cross, but it didn’t stop Jack’s arm from going around me or my head from leaning on his shoulder.

For a few hours that night, Jack and I sat out on the porch, with the scent of wild jasmine in the air, and nothing but the squeaking of the swing, and the buzzing of night insects breaking up the silence.





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.”