Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(24)

“I will,” a dark, beautiful African woman answered before gathering children’s hands and singing them to their destination.

Kate was tall and exquisite. She looked like a supermodel, to be frank. If I had seen her in Paris, I’d assumed she was there for the catwalks. It astounded me that she worked in the orphanage when there were so many outside opportunities to be had for her.

“This is to be your bedroom,” Karina said pulling me from my thoughts and pointing to what I thought earlier was an outhouse. I almost blurted, “you can’t be serious,” but stopped myself immediately, remembering the missing arm of the little girl from minutes before. “It’s actually separated into two rooms,” she continued, swinging the door open to the room on the right. It was about as big as the toilet room in my bathroom back home. I peered inside and took in its contents.

Though it had a roof and floor, it didn’t have much else. There was a sink basin to the right but no faucet and a simple bed, smaller than a twin, and no real floor. Essentially, it was uneven planks of wood on the floor, walls and ceiling and a makeshift door.

Karina took in my face and smiled. “It’s not the Ritz, I admit, but it is a roof, my dear,” she added sweetly. “I’ll have Samuel bring your bags in for you. If you have no net, I can provide one for you.” She swung me out onto the red dirt path and pointed to the door next door. “You share a wall with Dingane, but he’s rarely there. Besides, both of you will be so busy and by the end of the day you’ll be so exhausted, your room will be used for sleeping and not much else. Any noise won’t bother you. You’ll get used to the night noises here as well. ”

I gulped, not really sure I could get used to any of it: rooming next to someone who obviously found me repulsive, though I found myself a magnet to, “night noises” or the exhaustion part.

“Have you eaten dinner?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I lied again. Too many butterflies had taken residence in my stomach anyway even if I had been hungry enough to eat.

“Are you sure?” she asked again, eyeing me like a mother hen.

“Yes, Karina.”

Her eyes crinkled around a smile. “Come. I shall show you the showers.”

Karina led me outdoors and back toward the gate where I spied two square hut-like objects. When we came upon them, I noticed they were crawling with five-inch bugs I’d never seen before.

“Oh my God!” I shouted, grabbing onto her arm. I stared at the extreme creatures with the same horror they presented themselves to me with. A land of extremes.

Karina giggled. “They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.”

“Are-are they always there?”

“Yes, love but don’t fret. You get used to them.”

Oh my God, I’m going to reek like a freak. I’m never going to shower.

“You must shower, Sophie,” Karina chimed in, revealing psychic abilities. “This land is not kind. You must wash regularly to keep yourself free of disease.”

I swallowed audibly. “Of-of course.”

“My dear, we bed early here as we hardly ever have electricity and we like to rise with the sun. I suggest getting some sleep now. I would love to tell you that the water is warm most days but it is not.”

“I see.” I studied the showers with a blank expression. I was essentially going to camp for six months.

When Karina led me back to my room, the sun had set completely.

“Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Karina.”

I walked into my room and almost screamed. Dingane stood there dropping one of my bags to the floor.

“Samuel was busy,” he said to explain his presence. He wanted it known that he didn’t want to be there.

“Ah, well, thank you, Dingane.”

“No problem,” he said, squeezing through the tiny room toward the door. I sat there swimming in the scent of his soap. It made me delirious. My Lord!

He turned around and stood a foot over me, almost skin to skin. “You’ll want to lock your doors so no animals try to get in,” he said and left me to the Ugandan night with the creak of my door slamming shut.

It echoed through me and I sat on my bed, not looking before I plopped myself down right on top of something slippery and moving. Naturally, I screamed and jumped. Dingane came running back into my room. Shirtless.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I-I...” I began but couldn’t finish. I could only point to the long black thing slithering its way on my mattress.

“Oh, it’s only a millipede. Archispirostreptus gigas, to be exact. Take care if you come in contact with one, avoid touching your eyes and lips. They can be harmful.”

“Get it out,” I told him, eyes clenched closed. I heard the door open and shut and when I opened my eyes, Dingane stood there staring at me like I was a fool. “Stop judging me.”

“Who said I was judging?” he lazily drawled. Broad, calloused hands rested on his narrow, exposed waist. I tried so hard not to look.

“I know when someone is judging me. I can read people with impeccable accuracy. You’re thinking this spoiled brat can’t even handle a simple insect. How will she handle Africa?”

“It is not an insect. It’s an arthropod,” he deadpanned.