Let Them Eat Tea

by Coleman Maskell

"Jomo will show you to your place for tonight," the shaman tells them, standing up, and then says something to Jomo quietly in a language Baldwin supposes to be Creole. Jomo gestures for them to follow. The couple rise and follow as instructed.

  Jomo shows the couple to a small thatched hut near the shaman's, and then disappears. Through the doorway they can still see the bonfires and feel their heat. Several layers of blankets have been laid out generously on the flat dirt floor.

  The two sit on the blankets together, looking out the door at the fires, holding each other close for warmth.

  Looking more closely at the floor, Baldwin sees that it isn't just dirt, it's been hardened like baked clay. So it's more like a tile floor, he thinks, drawing a comparison to something familiar. The blankets aren't exceptionally soft, but they aren't coarse either. They seem to be made from heavy cotton.

  With one arm around Annetka, Baldwin reaches back with his other hand and picks up the loose edge of the top blanket in the pile they're sitting on, wrapping it over her shoulders and around her, pulling her closer to him. She turns her face to look up at his eyes.