by Justin D'Ath
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Please be careful, Holly.’
She touched my cheek. ‘You be careful, too, babe. And take good care of Three. A talking monkey. Crazy! I still can’t believe it!’
Then she was gone. The door squeaked shut behind her. Alone in the dark office, I listened to the steel shutter rolling down outside, then the click-click of the padlocks closing also.
I was locked in.
Returning to the window, I again parted the blinds and watched Holly disappear into the dark, empty streets of the city in curfew.
My girlfriend, I thought. My lovely American girlfriend.
I tried not to think about anything else.
19
Humans Before Brids
Many hours later, I awoke on the floor of the little kitchen. I was lying in a tangle of new blankets, halfway under the table. Straightaway a great sadness filled my heart.
My parents were dead!
It still did not feel real that they were no longer in this world. Never again would Ama place her warm, soft palm on my forehead in the morning blessing of mother to son. Never again would Baba grip my shoulders and wish me strength and success for the day that lay ahead. Aaaaee!
Think of other things, I told myself.
The kitchen was no longer fully dark. When I went back early in the morning after saying goodbye to Holly, I must have left the door partway open. Light was coming in from the warehouse, where the gap around the top of the walls let in the brightness of a new day.
‘Ghoo morhee sahn-hay,’ said a strange but familiar voice.
It took my half-asleep brain a few moments to make the translation: ‘Good morning, Sunday.’
I rolled over. Three lay wrapped in its own blankets, less than an arm’s length away. A brid’s arm length, I thought. And tried not to hate it for being what it was, or for what one of its kind had done to my parents. I did not fully succeed.
‘What is good about it?’
The creature blinked at me with its one blue eye. ‘Holly go home?’
Now I remembered something good to think about. ‘She is coming back later,’ I said.
‘Holly nice,’ said Three.
I wanted to say, She kissed me, but that was only something you would tell a very close friend, not a monkey.
‘She is very nice.’
Pushing aside my blankets, I stood up and stretched. My ankle felt much better today. But the muscles in my arms and shoulders were stiff from carrying Three halfway across the city last night. Why had I done it? A bomber without its bomb was no use to anyone. It was just a waste of space, as they said in American TV shows. I stretched my stiff arms again and looked at the clock above the refrigerator. Its hands showed five minutes before three. I had been asleep for nearly twelve hours.
‘Thirsty,’ said Three.
So get yourself a drink, I nearly said.
But then I remembered how kind Holly had been to it. Almost the last thing she had said to me before going home last night was, ‘And take good care of Three’. I went to the sink and filled a mug with water. But I was thirsty, too, so I drank it down slowly-slowly, while Three looked on. Humans before brids, I thought. Only once my thirst was satisfied did I fill a second mug for Three.
‘Thank you, Sunday,’ it said politely. It seemed stronger today. It was able to sit up and hold the mug for itself.
While Three sipped its water, I checked Holly’s phone. There were no messages and no missed calls. I was disappointed at first, then I remembered that Holly had promised to call me only if she was not coming back today. So no messages was good. It meant I would see her again soon. I looked forward to kissing her hello.
Three finished its water and asked for more. I refilled its mug, then waited until it had stopped drinking.
‘How are you feeling today?’ I asked.
‘Bit better,’ it said.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Bit hungry.’
Holly had left her backpack on the counter beside the sink. There were only a few slices of bread and one muesli bar left. I gave it all to Three, thinking what I would say to Holly when she came back: Three woke up hungry, so I gave it all the leftover food, even the last muesli bar that I had been saving for myself. She would think how kind I was.
It might earn me an extra kiss!
Leaving Three to eat its food, I went out into the warehouse. Last night I had seen some cartons labelled ‘Rice Pudding’ and that was where I headed. Back in the kitchen, I found a can opener in a drawer below the counter and opened two cans. I poked spoons into both cans and gave one to Three. It thanked me, but it used its fingers, not the spoon. Mustafa had taught it many things, but it was still an animal. The rice pudding was cold and gooey but it tasted okay. I got myself a second can.
‘Too nice, ne?’ I said to Three.
It carefully placed its three-quarters empty can on the floor beside its blankets, then licked its fingers. ‘Can’t finish.’
‘You are not feeling sick again?’
‘Just full.’
‘Me also,’ I said. Leaning back in my chair, I stretched my stiff arms wide and high like the wings of a marabou bird.
In just a few hours I would see my girlfriend again.
20
Shot
When it was my turn to use the bathroom, I took off all my clothes and used hand-cleaner and paper towels to clean myself at the little basin. There was no hot water but that did not matter – it was just good not to smell like Three.
The next time we kissed, Holly would not screw up her nose and call me skunky.
But what about my breath? I thought suddenly.
Out in the warehouse, I opened one of the cartons of toothpaste I had seen the night before and used my finger to rub some all over my teeth and gums. Then I searched through the clothing bins and found a pair of men’s jeans that were a bit loose and a big white T-shirt from Sweetwater, Texas. There was a bin of shoes also, and right at the bottom I found a pair of black sneakers that were exactly my foot size.
Back in the bathroom, I did some American rock star poses in front of the mirror. My teeth looked clean and white, also. Holly would get a good surprise when . . .
Click! Click! Click!
Aaaaee! I spun around. Above the toilet was a small window with louvres of frosted glass. The dark shape of a bird flapped there for a few seconds, pecking at an insect or a spider on the other side, then it flapped away.
My heart flapped also – almost as fast as the bird’s wings – as I returned to the kitchen, where I found Three sleeping again. I was disappointed. I had wanted to show off my new clothes. But the brid needed to rest. It had a lot of recovering to do.
Does it truly matter whether it recovers or not? I asked myself. It was sent to kill me.
But Holly had asked me to take care of Three and I would keep my promise.
Leaving the brid to sleep, I took the phone to the office and sat at the front desk to wait for Holly to return. My plan was to deactivate the alarm as soon as I heard her unlocking the shutter outside. Then I would surprise her with my new clothes, and with a big hug and a long, long kiss. It was a nice plan, a happy plan. But I waited and waited. Nobody unlocked the shutter and the phone did not ring. Where was she? I stayed in the office for over two hours, getting up mightbe a thousand times to peep out through the blinds, but Holly did not come.
Slowly it grew dark. I was becoming worried. Had her parents caught her sneaking in last night and forbidden her to go out again? But she had promised to call me if she was not coming. I checked the phone (her phone) and there was still a good signal. The battery had lots of charge.
She will be coming later, I told myself. She is just waiting for her parents to go to bed, then she will sneak out.
My stomach rumbled. I was hungry again. Getting another meal would be a good way to pass the time while I waited for Holly.
Three was awake when I switched on the light in the kitchen. ‘Where Sunday go?’ it
asked.
‘I was waiting for Holly.’
‘Where she?’
‘She will be here soon.’
‘Please take Three bathroom.’
‘You are not going to sick up again, are you?’
‘Just do water.’
Afterwards, I opened two more cans of rice pudding and we had another meal. Three finished one can, then asked for another. It truly was getting better. Holly would be happy when I told her.
When she still had not phoned by eight-fifteen in the evening, I went back to the office and sat at the desk once more to wait. It was fully dark now and my eyelids kept drooping closed. But I stayed awake until ten o’clock. Then I could wait no longer. I woke up Holly’s phone and found one of the text messages I had sent to her the previous day from Sergeant Aguda’s phone – the phone she had now. I pressed Call. There was no ringing, just a recorded voice saying to leave a message. Sergeant Aguda’s phone was either turned off or its battery was still flat. Mightbe Holly did not have a recharger for it at her home, I thought. Mightbe she was still coming.
I waited until nearly midnight, then I could not stay awake any longer. I went back to the kitchen. I did not switch on the light because Three was sleeping. Feeling my way to the sink, I drank some water straight from the cold tap, then I lay on my blankets and closed my eyes.
‘Where Holly?’ asked a voice in the dark.
‘Sorry. Did I wake you?’
‘Three not sleep. Where Holly?’
‘I do not know,’ I said. I felt a need to talk about it. ‘She said she would phone if she was not coming, but she has not phoned. So I think she will come. Mightbe her parents have not gone to bed yet, and she is waiting for that.’
But Holly did not return to the warehouse that night. And she did not return the next day, either. I waited all morning and all afternoon. I kept checking the phone for messages, or to make sure there still was a signal. I tried calling her several times, but got Sergeant Aguda’s message bank each time. It seemed so strange that Holly had not called. Her parents must have phones, I thought. Couldn’t she use one of their phones to call me, if Sergeant Aguda’s was not working?
I was truly worried now. Had something bad happened to Holly? Or had she changed her mind about being my girlfriend? Had I kissed her too much, or not kissed her properly? Had I hugged her too tight? Did she remember my skunky clothes and think it was how I smelled always? Had she been waiting for me to say I love you?
Three knew I was worried. ‘Holly come soon,’ it kept saying.
But after too many times hearing the brid say that, I became angry. ‘Keep quiet!’ I snapped.
Finally I could not wait any longer. I opened the address book in Holly’s phone and found her mother’s number. I pressed Call.
‘You have reached Zoe Parr,’ said a recorded voice. ‘Please leave your name and number and I’ll call you back.’
I did not leave a message. Taking a deep breath for courage, I called Holly’s father. And got his voicemail, too.
Had the mobile network crashed again? I wondered. But Holly’s phone still showed three bars of signal, and both my calls to her parents had gone through to their recorded messages. Chewing my lower lip, I stared at the little screen. Holly’s address book was still open and here was a name that I knew. I pressed Call.
The phone at the other end rang five times, then a quiet voice said, ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Jessica?’ I asked.
She did not say yes or no, but she asked me a question instead: ‘Who’s that?’
‘Sunday Balewo,’ I said. ‘From school.’
‘But . . . that’s Holly’s phone.’
‘She loaned it to me.’
‘When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘It can’t have been yesterday,’ said Jessica.
‘Does it matter when it was?’ I said with impatience. ‘I need to talk to her. Do you know where she is?’
Jessica was silent for a few moments. ‘Haven’t you heard?’ she asked in a strange, little voice.
‘Heard what?’
More silence. I listened closely and thought I heard sniffling. ‘Jessica, what is it?’ I said. ‘Is something wrong?’
Still she said nothing. I was becoming truly worried now. ‘Jessica? Jess? Has something happened to Holly?’
Sniff.
‘Jess? Tell me what it is!’
Finally Jessica spoke. But she seemed to be having trouble talking. ‘She . . . she . . . she’s . . . been shot.’
21
Truly Wrong
My knees gave way. I found myself sitting on the cool kitchen floor. The phone felt sweaty against my ear. It was difficult to breathe. It was difficult even to think.
Shot!
‘Is she . . .?’ I could not say it – Holly and that word did not belong in the same sentence.
Jessica must have guessed the question I could not ask. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘But nobody’s heard anything much. They took her to the army hospital and it’s like everything’s top secret.’
That he-goat Mbuti must be in control of it now, I thought. ‘Why did they take her there?’
‘Because she was, like, breaking curfew, so it’s kind of a military matter.’
‘You mean she is a prisoner?’
‘Not really,’ said Jessica. ‘They’ve got really good doctors there. Dad said it’s probably because General Mbuti wants to get the credit for saving the life of an American citizen.’
Much as I despised and hated Mbuti, for once it seemed we both wanted the same thing: for Holly to get better.
‘When did it happen?’ I asked.
‘Friday night. Some soldiers found her lying in the street early yesterday morning. It was on the government radio station. They claimed they didn’t shoot her, that they just found her there. Nobody knows why she was outside during curfew.’
I knew why. Sweet Paradise! I thought suddenly. Holly had been shot because of me!
‘Was she conscious?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Jessica said. ‘Nobody really knows anything.’
‘Where are her parents? I tried to phone them but they do not answer.’
‘It said on the radio that someone from the new government took them to the army base – where the hospital is. You’re not allowed to use phones there.’
‘Is there any way to get in touch with them?’ I asked.
‘My parents have been trying all day,’ Jessica said. ‘Dad’s friends with the American ambassador. But the Americans don’t know anything, either.’
I thought about Holly lying in a hospital bed at the army base. With a bullet inside her. Aaaaee!
‘It is my fault,’ I said.
‘What’s your fault?’ asked Jessica.
‘She was helping me.’
‘Helping you?’ Jessica sounded confused. ‘What do you mean?’
I took a deep breath, then I told her nearly everything that had happened to me since the dark-glasses men had whisked me away from school during Flag Raising on Friday. But I said nothing about Three. I did not tell Jessica how I had saved the brid and brought it and its implanted transmitter to the warehouse. I only told her that I was there and that Holly had brought me food.
‘That is why she got shot,’ I explained. ‘She was on her way home from here. She broke curfew because I asked her to help me. It’s all my fault.’
‘No it isn’t!’ Jessica said firmly. ‘You’re a victim of this whole stupid mess, just like . . . Oh my God! I completely forgot. I’m really sorry about what happened to your father.’
And my mother. Everyone kept forgetting that Ama was dead also. ‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘Is there anything I can do, Sunday?’
‘Try to find out more about Holly, then can you call me back on this number?’
‘Sure. But what about you, Sunday? You’re locked in, aren’t you?’
‘It’s a safe place,’ I said. ‘General Mbuti�
��s men won’t look for me here. And I have everything I need.’
‘But tomorrow’s Monday,’ said Jessica. ‘Won’t the warehouse be open?’
I had been thinking about that also. ‘Holly’s mother is the warehouse manager, true?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you think she will come to work tomorrow, after what happened to Holly?’
‘No way. I know Mrs Parr – she won’t leave Holly’s bedside.’
‘Are there other people that work here?’ I asked.
‘I went there a couple of times with Holly after school,’ Jessica said. ‘There were three African ladies and an old man who lifted stuff and helped make the deliveries.’
‘Do they have keys?’
‘I don’t know, but I doubt it. You know how much corruption there is here. You can’t trust anybody. Oops! I’m sorry, Sunday – I shouldn’t have said that.’
But it was true, I thought sadly. My country was overrun with dishonesty. And I was the last person to know it.
‘So if nobody else has got keys,’ I said to Jessica, ‘I will be safe to stay here.’
‘I guess so,’ she said. ‘But it must be horrible to be locked up in that place all on your own, Sunday.’
She did not know that I was not on my own. I had a monkey for company. A monkey that could talk.
‘Hey, I’ve got an idea,’ Jessica said suddenly. ‘You could stay at my place. We’ve got a spare room. And you’d be totally safe here from those guys looking for you.’
‘What about your parents?’ I asked.
‘They’d want to help you,’ she said. ‘They’re both pretty mad about what happened on Friday.’
I thought about all the other people who had tried to help me – the dark-glasses men, Chief of Police Kimutai, Holly – and said, ‘No, you might all get in trouble.’
‘We wouldn’t get in trouble,’ said Jessica. ‘My dad works at the Australian Embassy. He’s an important man.’
So was my father, I thought. So was Mr Kimutai. ‘I am safe here, Jessica. This is my country and this is my problem. Please do not say anything to your parents.’
‘Okay.’ She sounded doubtful. ‘If you’re totally sure?’
