Chapters (36)
A twig snaps in the direction of the little-girls’ dorm, and our laughter stops. The fire might have flushed a bigger, meaner animal out of the bush. A wild dog, for example, can tear a chunk out of your leg and give you rabies. Lottie lifts her panga again, and we listen to the night. Small sounds find us: the wind in the trees, crickets, an owl hoot in the distance.
“Darnell?” Lottie suddenly calls. “It’s Lo-Lo and Adi. Come out. We won’t hurt you.”
We wait and wait and get nothing back from the darkness. If Darnell is out there, he’s happy to stay quiet. Lottie’s shoulders slump in defeat. Like her, I’m sad no one answered.
Female voices, high-pitched with excitement, reach us from the dirt road. Lottie hangs the pangas on their hooks, and I lock the shed door and slip the key back into my sock for safekeeping. Mrs. Thomas leads a gaggle of girls into the yard, and everyone has a story to tell, a close call to report, and a good reason to chatter loudly as they make their way back to their beds. Lottie and I have the best story of all, but neither of us says a word about the troop of monkeys or the flames eating away the trees behind the school shop. We know what we did. And if there’s a God and he turned his head to our dead corner of Swaziland for even five seconds, he knows it too.
“Inside, ladies.” Mrs. Thomas herds us into the hall. “The generator goes off in twenty-five minutes, so there’s enough time for the older girls to take a shower. The rest of you will have to wait till tomorrow.”
The younger girls groan. We collectively stink of sweat and smoke, and now our sheets and our pillows will stink too. It’s no use complaining. Graduating students get first go at everything, and the rest of us have to wait till morning to get clean. Lottie and I perch on the edge of our cots, exhausted.
Normal sounds come from outside Dead Lorraine’s room. Showers turn on in the washroom, and girls get ready for bed. Our room is exactly as we left it, with my hairbrush on top of the chest of drawers and Jane Eyre still flipped open on my pillow. Lottie sighs and throws herself back onto her mattress to enjoy the bustle of the dormitory settling down for the night. My body softens, and I relax. I miss Mother and Rian and the comforts of home, but tonight the distance between Keziah Christian Academy and Manzini seems to matter less than usual. Lottie and I survived, and that is a good enough reason to enjoy a quiet moment of happiness.