by Karen Rispin
Miss Garrett cornered me right after class. "You realize," she said, leaning over me, her perfume nearly smothering me, "that I meant no harm. Your cousin must understand we have standards of behavior here."
I squirmed and jerked my head in a nod. I had to get out of there and find Tianna.
"That's fine, then," Miss Garrett said, patting my shoulder. "You'll tell her for me. I won't report her for missing Sunday school."
I nodded again and ran.
Lisa, Muthoni, and Amy were waiting for me in a little knot on the porch.
"I've got to find Tianna," I said, pushing past them.
"I know," said Amy. "We'll help. We were just waiting for you. Muthoni and I will search around here. Lisa, you look beside the path and stuff."
"I'll go to the dorm," I said and took off, then stopped to yank off my Sunday shoes and socks so I could run faster. The slap, slap my bare feet made on the packed dirt of the path sounded loud as I ran downhill.
"Looking for a rat's nest?" Sabrina Oats called as I tore by her and some other kids. Their laughter followed me as I ran.
Tianna was sitting on her bed, stuffing things into a gym bag. "I'm getting out of here," she said as soon as I walked in.
"Miss Garrett said to tell you she was sorry," I said. Well, she did, sort of, I told myself. Besides, I had to calm Tianna down.
"Everybody hates me," she half yelled. "Mr. Jackson washed my mouth out with soap. They feed me glop and humiliate me, and that Sabrina Oats geek stole my food." She glared at me. "So tell me why I should stay."
"Lisa, Muthoni, and Amy don't hate you," I said. "They're trying to be your friends. So am I. And Jesus loves you, too. Besides, where would you go?"
There was a long pause, then she said, "I guess you're right." She shrugged and looked down. After a second she looked up, shook her hair out of her eyes, and almost yelled, "I'm telling you right now, if it doesn't get better, I'll find a way to get out of here!" She looked at me for a second, then frowned. "You wouldn't tell me how to get out of here even if you knew, would you?"
"I don't really know, anyway," I said, looking away from her. I didn't, not exactly. "Besides, if you tried to fit in a little it wouldn't be so bad here. All you need to do is brush your hair, and don't swear, and clean up when we're supposed to, and junk."
"Don't you bug me, too," she said and walked out. She went and sat at the edge of the yard and looked down over the valley.
When I followed her, she said, "Leave me alone, OK?"
"You sure you're all right?" I asked.
She nodded and looked straight ahead, so I left her. Back inside I looked at her messy bed. The part of the verse that said, "Help each other with your troubles," ran through my mind.
OK, Jesus, I'll try. Then I started to make Tianna's bed.
Tianna came back in just as I was finishing. She gave me a funny look, then went over and got her brush out. She stood there holding it, not brushing her hair.
Sabrina Oats walked in. "Hi, Rat's Nest," she said. "I know, I'll just call you Rat for short. Bitten anyone lately?"
"I told you last night not to hassle me," Tianna said, swinging around to face Sabrina. "I meant it, ditz brain."
"Tsk, tsk," said Sabrina. "The beast is becoming enraged."
Esther Miller interrupted. "Sabrina, don't. It's not funny."
My mouth fell open. Esther Miller was standing up to
Sabrina Oats! Sabrina whirled on her. "Stay out of this," she said, her voice low and mean.
"Sabrina," Esther said, "don't bug her, please."
"What's the matter, you afraid of her? Well, I'm not afraid of that," Sabrina said, jerking her head toward Tianna.
"I'm not scared," said Esther. "It's just that we're supposed to be Christians and she isn't and she's here all by herself." Esther said it all in a rush, with her shoulders hunched and her head down.
Sabrina flushed and ducked her head. Then she blurted, "I thought you were my friend," and left the room.
"Thanks, Esther," I said.
Esther gave me a nervous smile, then said, "I've got to find Sabrina."
"'We're Christians and she isn't,'" said Tianna in a singsong voice. "If Sabrina Oats is a Christian, she can keep it."
I squirmed. "It's not like that. I mean, being a Christian doesn't mean you're perfect all of a sudden. It means, like, you want to belong to Jesus, and he loves you and forgives you and helps you do the right thing."
"Like Sabrina Oats making fun of me?" Tianna demanded, yanking the brush though her hair.
"No," I said, "like Esther standing up for you, or Lisa deciding to be your friend even after you took her bed—"
"I didn't do that," Tianna interrupted.
"I know, it was Mrs. Jackson. But if you decided to be a Christian…" I stopped and swallowed hard, watching Tianna to see if she'd be mad.
She stopped brushing her hair and said, "Well?"
"If you did, it wouldn't mean you'd never do dumb things. But you would know that Jesus is taking care of you, and that makes things OK when you're lonely and your mom and daddy are so far away, or when people make fun of you, or when you do something wrong or just really stupid. Jesus helps you change."
"I wish he'd hurry up with Sabrina Oats, then," she said and jerked the brush savagely through her hair. She threw the brush down and shook her head so her bangs were back in her face. "Come on," she said. "It must be almost lunchtime. Let's go try the glue, or is it fingernails this time?"
I laughed and said, "No, those are for breakfast. Maybe they'll give us garbage patties for lunch."
She gave me such a horrified look that it made me laugh even harder. On the way up the hill, we met Muthoni and Amy coming down. "You found her!" said Amy.
"I couldn't believe Miss Garrett," said Muthoni.
"You're from here, aren't you?" Tianna interrupted, looking at Muthoni.
"No, from Nairobi," Muthoni said.
"Well, if you wanted to get out of here, would you know how?"
I shook my head at Muthoni, but she didn't see me.
She just gave Tianna a funny look and said, "Take a matatu up and catch a bus at Kishengo."
"What's a 'matatum,' or whatever?" asked Tianna, "and where do you get one?"
"It's a truck, and you catch them down by the hospital," Muthoni said. Then she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and demanded, "Why are you asking me these things?"
"No reason," said Tianna and ran ahead. Things seemed to go better after that. Tianna even brushed her hair, made her bed, and got to breakfast on time the next day. Monday afternoon we finished the fort, and Tianna actually seemed to like it.
Then everything fell apart at recess on Tuesday.
I was sitting at my desk finishing some math corrections that Mr. George said we had to get done before we could go out. I looked out the window at the sunshine on the top of the wild olive tree below our classroom and then back at my paper. I erased a wrong answer and tried to think. I could hear kids out on the porch, laughing and running.
A voice outside rose to a yell, and a couple of other voices joined it. I held still and listened.
"Rat's Nest is chicken! Rat's Nest is chicken!" a couple of boys' voices chanted.
I stood up to see out the window better. Trevor Norton shoved Tianna toward the big rope swing that was hanging from a branch of the wild olive tree. Tianna whirled and slugged him hard in the stomach.
She swore at the group, then yelled, "Mind your own business."
I ran for the door.
"Careful! Rat bites!" I heard Sabrina Oats yell. "Rabid rat bites."
I got outside just as Tianna ran at Sabrina and shoved her hard. Sabrina went backward, down the hill, and started screaming—a high, different scream than when she had been teasing Tianna.
A scream that didn't quit.
Chapter Ten
I reached the edge of the hill and looked down. Sabrina was still screaming. She was lying on her side, partway down the hill. Mr. G
eorge came running and bent down over Sabrina, who moaned, "My arm! My arm!"
The kids were in a big circle all around. Tianna, her hair over her face and her big blue eyes full of fear, looked down the hill at Mr. George and Sabrina. I went toward her, and Mr. George looked up and saw me.
"Anika, go get the nurse," he said. "I think Sabrina's broken her arm."
I paused and looked at Tianna—she looked so scared—but Mr. George said, "Hurry, Anika! Run!"
By the time I got back—the nurse had brought me with her in the car—the other kids were back in the classrooms. Mr. George helped to put Sabrina in the car and left with her for the hospital.
In our classroom the kids were all in clumps talking.
"Well, I don't think she's so bad," Amy was saying. "I mean, how would you feel if your parents separated and sent you to the other side of the world?"
"So?" said Trevor. "She doesn't have to go breaking people's arms."
I looked around frantically, but Tianna wasn't there. "Where is she?" I asked Lisa quietly.
Lisa shrugged and said, "She took off right after you left." The classroom door slammed into the wall as I tore out of the room. What if Tianna was running away?
What if she was already gone? I raced down the hill, my breath tearing in my throat and my lungs hurting.
I shot into the dorm room and skidded to a stop. Tianna wasn't there. Her drawers were hanging open. I yanked the closet open and looked inside. Tianna's gym bag was gone. I whirled and ran out of there toward the hospital.
Darn that Muthoni! I thought furiously between breaths. My side hurt, so I dropped into a walk. Suddenly the song we'd sung on Sunday came into my head, "He's my rock, he's my fortress, he's my deliverer, in him will I trust. Praise the name of Jesus."
It was like a weight went off me. I took a slower, deep breath and said, "OK, Jesus, you're my safety. Let this be your thing. I can't handle it. I don't get why you let this happen, but help me be on your side. You handle it."
Suddenly I wondered if I was all worried for nothing. Tianna probably didn't have any money, so she couldn't go anywhere. She'd be scared and mad, though. I started trotting again.
There are always quite a few people around at the kiosk by the hospital. There were women sitting on the ground, bright scarves on their heads. A bunch of people were sitting on rickety chairs outside a little shop, holding glasses full of strong milky tea. A matatu, which is like a small pickup truck with a covered back, was there, and people were crowding around to get on. A boy wearing ragged khaki shorts ran up to me and said, "Givi me a money!"
One of the African ladies yelled at him in Kikuyu, and he looked at her and ran off. I searched the group frantically, looking for Tianna. Then I saw a white face in the back of the matatu. It was Tianna! The matatu started to drive away.
I ran after it, waving my arms and yelling in Swahili, "Bado! Bado qua mimi!" Wait! Stop! Stop!
There are lots of different languages in Kenya. The people around VCA talk Kikuyu. Other tribes talk Kikamba or Masai. White people talk English, Danish, French, or whatever, and Indian people talk Hindi or Urdu. But the one language that all the different groups speak is Swahili. It's called a trade language, which means everyone uses it to talk together. The only people who talk Swahili at home are the Swahili, and they live at the coast. Many Kenyans speak three languages: their tribal language, Swahili, and some English, which they learn in school. Like most kids on the mission compound, I knew enough Swahili to get by.
The driver of the matatu heard me yelling and stopped. I ran up and grabbed hold of the tailgate. "Tianna! Come on, get out. You can't—"
The matatu started moving. The driver couldn't see me from the front and must have thought I'd gotten on. I couldn't just leave Tianna. I held on to the side and jumped on the bumper. Two African men in the back grabbed my arms and helped haul me on board. I whacked my knee hard on the tailgate.
"Eeeea, pole pole," a bunch of the people said almost in chorus. Pole pole means something between "I'm sorry" and "Take it easy."
I staggered forward, trying to keep my balance.
People squashed over to leave room, and I sat down hard by Tianna. The shoulder of the man next to me was practically in my ear. The back of the tiny pickup was packed. Everybody was staring at us.
"Tianna, we have to get off!" I blurted, trying to stand up. "Kids who run away get expelled from school."
She jerked me down. "No way."
I landed with a thud and looked back at the road disappearing behind us. We were headed for the big highway above the station.
"You can't keep running away. I don't have any money, and I bet you don't either," I said. "The driver will be really mad."
"No, he won't," Tianna said. "I told him that all I have is American dollars. Dad gave me a bunch when I left. He said they're good anywhere in the world. The driver of this taxi thing took them, anyway. He took ten bucks and said he'd take me to some hotel at Naibashi or somewhere. I'll pay for you, too. I'm not going back now. He was really helpful."
I bet, I thought. That driver wouldn't want to let us off, not if he thought he'd lose a chance at getting more American money. He could change the dollars on the black market for an awful lot of shillings.
"Did he say Naivasha?" I asked Tianna. She just shrugged, so I looked up and asked, "Is this matatu going to Naivasha?"
A couple of people shrugged, but a girl whose whole head was covered with tiny long black braids so that she looked like an Egyptian princess answered in English. "The driver has told her that he would deliver her to the tourist hotel near the lake at Naivasha. Your friend showed him many dollars, so he will be happy to take you, too."
A wave of fear went over me. If people knew Tianna was carrying a lot of money, we could get robbed.
Just then the matatu jerked to a stop. We were at Kishengo, up by the highway above the station. People started climbing out. I got up, too, but Tianna jerked me down again.
I grabbed the girl's sleeve and started talking Swahili so Tianna wouldn't stop me. "Please, can you get someone to tell the people at VCA where we have gone?"
The girl nodded as she climbed over the tailgate.
"What did you say to her?" Tianna demanded. I shrugged.
"I bet you're trying to get me caught," she said. "You're no friend!"
"OK, let me go back, then," I said. She was still holding on to my arm. The driver was outside yelling out where we were going, and new people were crowding into the matatu.
Tianna clutched my arm tighter and stared at me, wide-eyed. "No, I'm scared."
I swallowed and thought, I'm scared, too. The matatu started moving, and I was nearly squashed when the fat lady next to me lurched into me.
My jaws snapped together when the matatu hit an extra big pothole. The bones in my seat already hurt from being whacked by the hard ledge we were sitting on.
If this matatu takes us to the hotel at Naivasha, I thought, I can call home from there. I could if I had some money anyway.
"Tianna," I whispered, turning my head and putting my mouth close to her ear. "How much money do you have?"
She shoved me off with her elbow. "Stop it!" she demanded loudly. "Don't hiss in my ear. It's not a state secret. I've got two hundred bucks."
"Shhh!" I hissed furiously. "You don't have to brag. That's more than most Kenyans ever see. We're just two kids by ourselves, so shut up about it, OK?"
Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes opened wide. "I showed the driver," she said in a scared whisper.
I frowned without answering and slid lower on the ledge, hugging my arms. Just last term two of the seventh-grade girls went off campus by themselves, and a man had threatened them and yanked their watches off.
The matatu jerked to a stop. It was hot inside and stunk of sweat from crowded people. I looked out but couldn't tell where we were. A woman with three tiny kids climbed on. People scooted over and she sat down right across from us. The toddler pressed himself up
against his mother's leg, put his thumb in his mouth, and stared at us with huge dark eyes. His little brown shoulder showed through a huge hole in his ragged T-shirt.
Suddenly Tianna and her whole family seemed like spoiled brats to me. There they were, rolling in money and luxury, and all they could do was make trouble for themselves, while people like that cute toddler's mom were struggling just to feed their kids and send them to school. It wasn't fair! I wanted to grab Tianna's money and hand it to that woman.
I glanced at Tianna and sighed. She was looking out the back and chewing her fingernails. She probably would make a big stink if I grabbed her money. Besides, if I gave the money away, what would happen to us?
"Chicken," I whispered at myself. The matatu started again with a jerk that banged my back against the hard edge of the truck. I watched the road going backwards, and the people walking on the side getting smaller, and wished I'd never met Tianna. My stomach felt hollow and scared. On top of that, it was lunchtime and I was hungry.
We stopped at Naivasha town by the shops, which are called dukas. Everybody started climbing off.
"Come on," I said to Tianna and got up to follow.
"Is this where the hotel is?" she asked.
I barely nodded. It wasn't, but I wanted to get away from that driver who knew about Tianna's money.
We were the last people in the matatu, and I'd just started climbing over the tailgate when the driver saw me.
He hurried toward us, shaking his head and flapping his hands at us. "I have said I will drive you to the hotel. I will truly drive you to that place. Karibu. Sit, sit."
Karibu means "Welcome" or "Come in." Without pausing, he rushed around to the cab.
"Hurry, Tianna," I said, one leg over the tailgate.
"The hotel isn't here, is it?" she demanded.
"Come on!" I said and reached back to grab her arm.
It's a good thing I did, too, or I would have been thrown out when the matatu shot forward. Instead, we both fell onto the floor.
"Ow!" Tianna yelled, getting up off of me and holding her head. "You geek! Why did you grab me like that!"
