Alexandria of Africa (19 page)

I tipped the bottle slightly, filling my hand with shampoo. Then I stopped. I really didn’t need to do it again, and there was no guarantee that the warm water wouldn’t turn to cold in the middle, leaving me with a lathery mess on
my head. And there were two people still waiting. I’d just soap up, finish up, and get dressed. And then eat. I was hungry like I never remembered being hungry before. I wondered who was cooking the meal tonight at Ruth’s. Were they celebrating a new baby in the family, or were they grieving a loss? I didn’t know, and there was no way I could find out right now. I’d just have to wait.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Sarah asked. She’d come to my tent to try to talk me into it.

“I’m sure.”

They were all going to be part of a ceremony that night at a Maasai village. This was to be their first experience. For me, I was too preoccupied to want to go. The only village I cared about was Ruth’s. I’d just wait here. Wait and worry.

“I just want to rest up my back so I’ll be able to work tomorrow,” I said. This was really an excuse, although there was some truth to it. I’d pulled a muscle in my back somewhere between pushing the wheelbarrow and shovelling concrete. Hard to imagine anyone back home believing me if I told them that I’d hurt myself that way. I was sure they couldn’t picture me doing either of those things. Heck, I’d done them, and even
I
could hardly picture it.

“You’ll miss out on the fun.”

“I’ll be just fine here. I have a book to read, and I’ll get to bed early.”

“They also said we might see animals along the way. Apparently this is the best time to see them, just after dusk. I’m hoping for some elephants.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“I know, but it’s not like there are actually any elephants anywhere around here.”

I almost laughed out loud, but stopped myself.

“Everything will be all right,” Sarah said, as she put a hand on my shoulder.

She was sweet. In some ways she reminded me of Ruth. At least, she reminded me more of Ruth than she did anybody back home. Sarah could be a friend too. And Mary Beth. I could just imagine the looks on the faces of my friends back home if the four of us went walking through the mall together. They’d think I had lost my mind entirely. Well, I’d certainly lost something. And gained something else.

“Do you think you could do me a favour?” Sarah asked.

“Depends on the favour.”

“I’m almost embarrassed to ask.” She did look kind of uncomfortable. “It’s just that I’ve never been much for makeup, and I saw what you did for Ruth. And I was just wondering … do you think that … if it isn’t too much trouble … if you could …”

“Do your makeup?”

She nodded her head and looked down at her feet.

“I could, but I have to warn you, it might lead to trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Yeah, you might have Tim chasing you around the compound.”

She giggled and blushed.

“Why don’t you see if Mary Beth wants her makeup done, too.”

“I’m out of here.” Christina had run in after her shower, but just to grab a pen and a notebook to take with her. Was it something I said?

“You don’t want a makeover?” I asked her. “I’m offering a special today for cosmetics newbies. I promise I won’t stab you with my eyeliner.” Okay, maybe that was a bit mean, because I really didn’t have a problem with her if she didn’t have a problem with me. But she just scowled at me and muttered something about “better things to do” with her time and took off.

I took my book to the dining room, where I settled into a chair with a cup of steaming chai tea. Everybody else was at the far side of the compound in their tents, getting ready, and it was almost quiet—a little taste of what it was going to be like when I was alone. It was going to be just me and the
askari
. The only other person in the dining room now was Renée.

She was the last person I wanted to see. Partly because of how she’d been treating me and the things she’d said. I wasn’t sure which made me more upset—the things that weren’t true or the things that were.

Just as upsetting to me was the way I’d treated her. She wasn’t a bad person, and I really hadn’t believed most of what I’d said to her. I’d been angry, and I’d said things to hurt her. Words were sometimes hard to take back. It wasn’t like returning something you didn’t like to the store. It wasn’t as if you could get store credit. Or any credit. Renée probably didn’t want to talk to me any more than I wanted to talk to her.

So I sat at one end of the deck, pretending to read, and she sat at the other end. Who knows, maybe she actually was reading. All around us was the gathering dark. The night was closing in. Soon I wouldn’t be able to see more
than a dozen feet beyond the haze of the dining-room lights. I looked forward to that. In the darkness I could look up and see a billion stars, twinkling and glittering. Sure, they were the same stars I could see in the same sky at home, but here there were no street lights or house lights or any lights, so I could actually see them. Here there were only the three bulbs hanging from the rafters of the dining area, powered by the generator. I could hear it humming away in the distance. If I’d really wanted to, I could have used the electricity to power my hair-straightener and make my hair look really good. But really, who was I trying to impress? And did anything like that really impress anybody, anyway? Better to just sit here and read.

I looked over at Renée. I didn’t know what she was reading but she was really into that book. She looked up at me and I quickly looked away, embarrassed that I’d been caught looking. Maybe she hadn’t seen me, or … she stood up and came walking toward me. She stood overtop of me.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” she said.

“For what?”

“You’ve worked harder today than everybody else here.”

“Not everybody,” I said. “I’ve watched you work.”

“Me? That’s my job. I get paid. The rest of you are volunteers … well, almost all of you … and I don’t mean that as a shot.”

“I know.”

She sat down on a chair right across from me.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said.

“Of course.”

“I was noticing. It isn’t just me you give a hard time to. There’s also Christina. You’re pretty hard on her sometimes, as well.”

Renée smirked. There was that look. “I guess I am sometimes. I think it’s because the two of you have so much in common.”

“Us? We have absolutely nothing in common!”

“Sure you do. You can both be pretentious princesses.”

“I am
not
a pretentious … not all the time. But what’s that got to do with her?”

“She uses her knowledge and education the same way you use your money and background. It keeps people in their place, puts her above everybody and everything. You can’t be
with
the people and
above
the people at the same time. It took me a while to realize that, although I guess I still need a reminder from time to time myself.”

“I really didn’t mean that. I was just angry.”

“You
were
angry, but you
did
mean it, and I appreciated you being that honest with me. We’re all here to learn from each other. I’ve learned from you.”

“Seriously? What have you learned from me?”

“Not to be prejudiced.”

“I can’t even imagine you being prejudiced against anybody.” She treated everybody—black or white, young or old—the same way.

“My prejudice was that I saw you, all blond and made-up and rich, and assumed you’d be stupid and snooty and a royal pain in the butt.”

“And?”

“And you were never stupid,” she said, and smirked.

“Just snooty and a pain, right?”

She nodded. I wasn’t going to argue the point.

“I have great hopes for Christina,” Renée said. “I think she’s grown through this experience. I might even offer her a job one day.”

“And me?” I asked.

“I have even higher hopes. There’s a saying: From those to whom much is given, much is expected. You have so much—and I’m not talking about money—so you have a lot to give. Don’t let anybody sell you short.” She reached out and touched my hand. “Especially not yourself.”

Ever so slightly I nodded my head. I knew what she meant. I even agreed with what she meant. But that didn’t mean I could follow through. The hardest person to overcome, I thought, is yourself.

“You have so much going inside your head—things that you don’t even like to admit to yourself,” Renée said.

“Such as?”

“Your gift for languages, for one.”

I shrugged. “I’m okay with them, I guess.”

“You’re more than okay. And the way you can figure out numbers.”

“I suppose shopping does train you for something,” I joked.

“Yeah, but it’s not just dollars. I heard you talking to the other kids about bags of cement and weights and numbers of blocks. You have an amazing ability with figures.”

Again I shrugged. I had always been good at math, but for the most part the only figure that mattered to me was my own, and the only number was my weight or the amount in my wallet.

“And,” Renée continued, “I also know what a kind heart you have. Not just with Ruth. That was so nice of you to do Sarah and Mary Beth’s makeup. Did you see the way the boys were looking at them? It was priceless.”

“It was fun.”

“Do you think you might stay in touch with them when you get home?” Renée asked.

“They live halfway across the country from me.”

“You’re right. It’s too bad we don’t have the technological magic to miraculously reach out electronically across the globe—oh, wait a minute, we do! It’s called the Internet.”

“A do-gooder
and
a comedian?”

“And how about Ruth?”

“I didn’t see a computer in her hut,” I said.

“But there is one in our offices in Nairobi. You could send her messages or mail and I’d make sure she gets it. That is, if you want to stay in contact.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Excellent. The royal connection. The Maasai princess and the California princess! Sorry, that’s my last shot!”

“No offence taken, although you could make it up to me,” I said.

“What did you have in mind?”

I reached down and picked up my purse. I opened it up and pulled out my makeup bag.

“Noooo,” she said, shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t wear makeup, that’s all.”

“Again, why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“Are you so afraid that if people see you with makeup on they won’t be able to see beneath the makeup to realize that people can have eye makeup but still see clearly? Or that they can have beautiful hair but still have beautiful minds? Or that they can have fashion but not be defined by anybody’s prejudicial ideas about clothes or—”

“Okay, okay, you win!” she exclaimed, holding her hands above her head in surrender. “Besides, maybe I’d just like to see how good I can look.”

She threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. I used one arm to hug her back. What the heck, I put down my makeup bag and wrapped my other arm around her too.

“Okay, let’s stop now before this leads to a group hug,” I said.

“No group hug, but are you sure you don’t want to join in the group activity?”

“I’m fine. I’ll enjoy being here by myself. Besides … there’s my sore back.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. You’ve probably been working harder than you ever have in your entire life.”

“Not probably. Definitely.” I paused. “Working hard enough to pass through the program?”

“Not probably. Definitely. Just out of curiosity, your back isn’t the only reason you’re not going, is it? You’re worried about Ruth and her mother.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about them, but I’m not worried. People give birth here all the time. They don’t seem to need hospitals and doctors.”

“Ever?”

“Well … hardly ever.”

“It’s the
hardly ever
I’m worried about.”

“Probably everything is already fine. You’ll get the good news tomorrow,” Renée said.

“Then tomorrow I’ll stop worrying.”

“Okay. I’d better get myself ready. Are you okay to be here on your own? I could stay to keep you company.”

“They need you to translate.”

“I could leave another staff member,” she suggested.

“That wouldn’t be fair to them. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be completely alone. There are the
askari.”

“They’ll keep you safe.”

“And I promise not to invite anybody over for a wild party while you’re all away. So, enough talking, and let me do your makeup.”

I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud, long ringing. It sounded like a gigantic doorbell. I wanted to ask what it was but there was nobody to ask. There was only me, a fire for company, and the
askari
out by the fence. Actually, I hadn’t even seen them. They moved so silently through the darkness that they were almost invisible when they were on patrol.

The bell rang again.

“Isn’t somebody going to get that?” I yelled out into the night to nobody in particular.