THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2

We are leaving today. Tante Rose took a taxi with us and dropped us off at the bus depot on her way to work.

While we wait for the camion to fill up, vendors come up to the window and Manman buys things from them. So far she has bought a new mesh for our lamp, canned milk, and a straw hat for Granpè Nozial.

Manman never buys anything without bargaining. She and the vendors go back and forth until Manman offers a price the vendor likes. And even when Manman is satisfied with the price, she pretends to be unhappy, as if her hand was forced.

LATER

I hope the camion leaves soon. A good number of people are on now. There is a girl my age standing at the window, trying to sell chewing gum to Manman. Manman does not want to buy the gum because she says she does not need it.

“Buy it for your daughter,” the girl says.

Manman sternly replies, “Non.”

The girl at the window is insisting. Manman finally buys the gum from her. Manman gives it to me because she does not like gum. I don’t like gum, either, but I unwrap the pack and throw each stick into my mouth, one after another, so glad I am that the girl made the sale.

LATER

Finally, the camion is leaving.

Nou prale.

NOU PRALE!

We are going.

WE ARE GOING!

LATER? MUCH LATER?

I am not sure what day it is. The last thing I remember is being on the camion with Manman. In Carrefour. That’s right, Carrefour. There was a loud noise. A BANG. Screams. Then everything went black.

NEXT DAY

I am in a hospital, in one long room that smells like alcohol. My head hurts when I try to move it. My wrists ache, too, as I write this. I feel like I am floating, but I surely see that I am in a hospital bed. When I woke up I found you, sweet little book, next to me on the bed.

LATER

I sleep a lot. What day is it? WHERE IS MANMAN? I look over at the other beds in the room. There are people of different ages in this room, but only two kids. They are younger than I am, both boys.

If I move my neck too fast, it hurts. I have no bandages, just a bump the size of a baby’s fist on the back of my head and a few cuts and bruises along my arms and legs. It does not feel like I have any broken bones (though I have never broken any bones before). I feel like I have been thrown about and have had my arms and legs stretched too far, like an old rag doll. I want to know what happened to Manman. I see a nurse at the other end of the room. I scream, “Manman! Manman!”