Little Bee

by Chris Cleave

  He took us to a long building beside a stream. The building had low brick walls, as high as my shoulder, but it had a high metal roof that rose in an arch from the walls, so that the building was like a tunnel. The metal roof was not painted. There were no windows in the walls but there were plastic skylights in the roof. The building stood in a dirt field where pigs and hens were scratching at the ground. When we appeared, the pigs stayed where they were and stared at us. The hens moved away with a nervous walk, looking behind them to make sure we were not following.

  The hens were ready to run if they needed to. They picked up each foot with a jerky movement and when they put the foot back down you could see the claws trembling. They moved closer to one another and made a muttering sound. The pitch of the noise rose each time one of us girls took a step closer, and it fell each time the hens put the distance back between them and us. It made me very unhappy to watch those hens. The way they moved and the noise they made, this is exactly how it was when Nkiruka and me finally left our village back home.

  We joined a group of women and girls and we ran off into the jungle one morning and we walked until it was dark and then we lay down to sleep beside the path. We did not dare to make a fire. In the night we heard gunshots. We heard men screaming like pigs when they are waiting in the cage to have their throats cut. There was a full moon that night and if the moon had opened its mouth and started screaming I would not have been more terrified. Nkiruka held me tight. There were babies in our group and some of them woke up and had to have songs sung to them before they would settle. In the morning there was a tall, evil line of smoke rising over the fields where our village was. It was black smoke and it curled and boiled as it rose up into the blue sky. Some of the very young children in our group asked what the smoke was from, and the women smiled and told them, It is just the smoke from a volcano, little ones. It is nothing to worry about. And I watched the way the smiles left their faces when they turned away from their children’s eyes and stared back into the blue sky filling with black.

  “You all right?”

  Albert was staring at me. I blinked.

  “Yes. Thank you mister.”

  “Daydreaming, were you?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Albert shook his head and laughed.

  “Honestly, you young people. Heads in the clouds.”

  He unlocked the long building and let us in. Inside there were two rows of beds, one row on each long wall. The beds were made of metal and they were painted dark green. There were clean white mattresses on the beds, and pillows without pillowcases. The floor was concrete painted gray, and it was shining and swept. The sunlight came down in thick stripes from the skylights. There were long loops of chain hanging down. They stretched right up into the roof, which was the height of five men at the center of the building. Albert showed us how to pull on one side of each chain loop to open the skylight, and on the other side of the chain to close it. He showed us the cubicles at the end of the building where we could take a shower or use the toilet. Then he winked at us.

  “There you go, ladies. The accommodation ain’t up to ’otel standard, I’ll grant you, but then show me the ’otel where you can get twenty Polish girls sharing your room and the management don’t even bat an eyelid. You should see some of the things our harvesters get up to after lights-out. I’m telling you, I should chuck in the livestock work and make a film.”

  Albert was laughing but the four of us girls, we stood there just looking back at him. I did not understand why he was talking about films. In my village, each year when the rains stopped, the men went to the town and they brought back a projector and a diesel generator, and they tied a rope between two trees, and we watched a film on a white sheet that they hung from the rope. There was no sound with the film, only the rumble of the generator and the shrieking of the creatures in the jungle. This is how we learned about your world. The only film we had was called Top Gun and we watched it five times. I remember the first time we saw it, the boys in my village were excited because they thought it was going to be a film about a gun, but it was not a film about a gun. It was a film about a man who had to travel everywhere very fast, sometimes on a motorbike and sometimes in an aeroplane that he flew himself, and sometimes upside down. We discussed this, the children in my village, and we decided two things: one, that the film should really be called The Man Who Was in a Great Hurry and two, that the moral of the film was that he should get up earlier so that he would not have to rush to fit everything into his day, instead of lying in bed with the woman with blond hair that we called The Stay-in-Bed Woman. That was the only film I had ever seen, so I did not understand when Albert said he should make a film. He did not look like he could fly an aeroplane upside down. In fact I had noticed how Mr. Ayres did not even let him drive his blue tractor. Albert saw us girls staring back at him, and he shook his head.

  “Oh, never mind,” he said. “Look, there’s blankets and towels and what ’ave you in them cupboards over there. I daresay Mrs. Ayres will be down later with some food for you. I’ll see you ladies around the farm, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  The four of us girls, we stood in the center of the building and we watched Albert as he walked out between the two lines of beds. He was still laughing to himself when he walked out into the daylight. Yevette looked at the rest of us and she tapped her finger on the side of her head.

  “Nivver mind im. De white mens is all crazy.”

  She sat down on the edge of the nearest bed and she took a dried pineapple slice out of her see-through plastic bag and she started to chew on it. I sat down next to her, while the sari girl took the girl with no name down the room a little way to lie down because she was still crying.

  Albert had left the door open, and a few hens came in and began to look for food under the beds. The girl with no name screamed when she saw the hens coming into the building, and she pulled her knees close to her chest and held a pillow in front of her. She sat there with her wide eyes poking out over the top of the pillow, and her Dunlop Green Flash trainers sticking out underneath it.

  “Re-LAX, darlin. Dey int gonna hurt yu, dey is only chickens, yu nah see it?”

  Yevette sighed.

  “Here we go again, huh Lil Bug?”

  “Yes. Here we go again.”

  “Dat girl in a bad way, huh?”

  I looked over at the girl with no name. She was staring at Yevette and making the sign of the cross.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Mebbe dis is de hardest part, now dey is lettin us out. In dat detention center dey was always tellin yu, do dis, do dat. No time to tink. But now dey all ovva sudden gone quiet, no? Dat dangerous, me tellin yu. Let all de bad memory come back.”

  “You think that is why she is crying?”

  “Me know it, darlin. We all gotta mind our heads now, truth.”

  I shrugged and pulled my knees up to my chin.

  “What do we do now, Yevette?”

  “No idea, darlin. Yu ask me, dis gonna be our nummer one problem in dis country. Where me come from, we ain’t got no peace but we got a thousand rumors. Yu always got a whisper where yu can go for dis or dat. But here we got de opposite problem, Bug. We got peace but we ain’t got no in-fo-MAY-shun, you know what I’m sayin?”

  I looked Yevette in the eyes.

  “What is going on, Yevette? What is this trick you have done? How come they let us out of that place without papers?”

  Yevette sighed.

  “Me did a favor for one of dem immigration men, all right? He make a few changes on de computer, jus put a tick in de right box, yu know, an—POW!—up come de names for release. Yu, me an dem two other girls. Dem detention officers don’t be askin no questions. Dey jus see de names come up on dere computer screen dis morning and—BAM!—dey take yu from your room and dey show you de door. Dey don’t care if yore caseworker be dere to pick yu up or not. Dey too busy peekin at de titty-swingers in de newspaper, truth. So here we is. Free and ee-zee.”
>
  “Except we don’t have papers.”

  “Yeah. But I ain’t afraid.”

  “I am afraid.”

  “Don be.”

  Yevette squeezed my hand and I smiled.

  “Dat’s me girl.”

  I looked around the room. The sari girl and the girl with no name, they were six beds farther along. I leaned in close to Yevette and I whispered to her.

  “Do you know anyone in this country?”

  “Sure, darlin. Williyam Shakespeare, Lady Diana, Battle of Britten. Me know dem all. Learned de names for me Citizenship Exam. Yu can test me.”

  “No. I mean, do you know where you will go if we can get out of here?”

  “Sure darlin. I got pipple in London. Got de half of Jamaica livin down on Cole Harbour Lane. Probly bitchin on how much dey vexed by all de Nye-Jirrians livin nex door. How bout yu? Yu got famly dere?”

  I showed her the United Kingdom Driver’s License from my see-through plastic bag. It was a small plastic card with Andrew O’Rourke’s photo on it. Yevette held it up to look at it.

  “What ting is dis?”

  “It is a driving license. It has the man’s address on it. I am going to visit him.”

  Yevette held the photo card close and stared at it. Then she held it far from her eyes and squinted down her nose at it. Then she looked up close again. She blinked.

  “Dis is a white man, Lil Bug.”

  “I know that.”

  “Okay, okay, jus checkin. Jus establishin whether yu blind or stupid.”

  I smiled but Yevette did not.

  “We should stick together, darlin. Why yu no come to London wid me? For sure we gonna find some of your pipple down dere.”

  “But I will not know them, Yevette. I will not know I can trust them.”

  “What, and yu trust dis man?”

  “I met him once.”

  “Scuse me, Bug, but dis man don’t look like yo type.”

  “I met him in my country.”

  “What de hell was dis man’s business in Nye-Jirrya?”

  “I met him on a beach.”

  Yevette threw her head back and slapped her thighs.

  “WU-ha-ha-ha-ha! Now me see. An dey tole me yu was a virgin!”

  I shook my head.

  “It was not like that.”

  “Don tell me it wasn’t like dat, Lil Miss Sexy-Bug. Yu mus of done someting to de man, make him want to give yu dis vall-able dockerment.”

  “His wife was there too, Yevette. She is a beautiful lady. She is called Sarah.”

  “So why he give yu his driver license? His wife be so beautiful, he be tinking, Damn, me won’t be needin dis again, me lady so pretty I ain’t nivver gonna drive nowhere no more, me jus gonna sit home an stare at de wife?”

  I looked away.

  “What, den? Yu stole dis dockerment?”

  “No.”

  “What, den? What happen?”

  “I cannot talk about it. It happened in another lifetime.”

  “Mebbe yu bin spending too much time learnin yore fancy English, Lil Bug, cos dat is crazy talk. Yu only be livin one life, darlin. Don’t matter yu don’t uh-preshie-ate part of it, cos it don’t stop bein part of yu.”

  I shrugged and I lay back on the bed and I watched the nearest chain dangling from the roof. Every link was joined to the one before and the one after. It was too strong for a girl like me to break. The whole chain swayed back and fro and it shone in the sun from the skylights. Like you could pull on the grown-up end and sooner or later you would get to the child, just like pulling a bucket out of a well. Like you would never be left holding a broken end, with nothing attached to it at all.

  “It is hard for me to think about the day I met Andrew and Sarah, Yevette. Now I cannot decide if I should go to visit them or not.”

  “So tell me all bout it, Bug. Me tell yu if dey sound good fo yu.”

  “I do not want to talk about it with you, Yevette.”

  Yevette put her fists on her hips and made her big eyes at me.

  “Well get yu, lil miss Africa!”

  I smiled.

  “I am sure there are parts of your life you do not like to talk about, Yevette.”

  “Only so yu no get jealous, Bug. Me tell yu some of de tings me done in me life of ease an luxury, yu be gettin yu self so jealous you gonna explode, and den Sari Girl over dere gonna have to mop up de mess, an she looks tired enough, yu ask me.”

  “No, I am serious, Yevette. Do you talk about what happened to you, to make you come to the United Kingdom?”

  Yevette stopped smiling.

  “Nah. Me tell pipple what happen to me, dey ain’t nivver gonna believe it. Pipple tink Jamaica be all sunshine an ganja an Jah Rastafari. But it ain’t. Yu get on de wrong side of de politics, Bug, dey gonna make yu suffah. An dey gonna make yore famly suffah. An me don’t mean suffah, like no ice cream fo a week. Me mean suffah, like you wake up in you chillen’s blood, an suddenly yo house is very very quiet, fo ivver an ivver, amen.”

  Yevette sat completely still and she looked down at her flip-flops. I put my hand on her hand. Above our heads the chains swung to and fro, and then Yevette sighed.

  “But pipple nivver believe dat about me country.”

  “So what did you tell the man from the Home Office?”

  “For me asylum interview? You wanna know what I tole him?”

  “Yes.”

  Yevette shrugged.

  “I tole him if he arrange to get me release from dat place, he can do what he want wid me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Yevette rolled her eyes.

  “Well thank de lord de Home Office man was a lil bit smarter dan yu, Bug. Yu nivver notice dey interview rooms didn’t have no windows? Me swear to yu, dat man’s ooman mus of kept her legs cross for de las ten year, de way he took me up on me offer. An it wasn’t jus on de one day, mind. It took de man four interviews fore he was certain me papers was in order, yu know what I’m sayin?”

  I stroked her hand.

  “Oh Yevette.”

  “It was nuthin, Bug. Compare to what dey do to me, if I be sent back to Jamaica? Nuthin.”

  Yevette smiled at me. The tears flowed from the corners of her eyes and around the curve of her cheek. I started to wipe her tears away and then I started crying as well, so Yevette had to wipe my tears too. It was funny, because we could not stop crying. Yevette started laughing, and then I was laughing too, and the more we laughed the more we could not stop crying, until we made so much noise that the sari girl hissed at us to shush so we would not disturb the woman with no name, who was making crazy talk to herself in some language.

  “Oh, look at de state of us, Bug. What we gonna do wid our-selves?”

  “I do not know. You really think you were released because of what you did with the Home Office man?”

  “Me know it, Bug. De man even tole me de date.”

  “But he didn’t give you your papers?”

  “Uh-uh. No papers. Him say dere a limit to his powah, yu see what I’m sayin? He be tickin one little box on de computer to tell dem officers to let us free, him can jus say, Me hand slipped. But approvin de asylum application? Dat’s a diffren story.”

  “So you’re illegal now?”

  Yevette nodded.

  “Yu an me both, Bug. Yu an me an dem other two also. All four of us gettin let out cos of what I done fo de Home Office man.”

  “Why all four of us, Yevette?”

  “Him say it look suspicious on im, if it just be me gettin let go.”

  “How did he choose the rest of us?”

  Yevette shrugged.

  “Close is eyes and stick a pin in de list, I dunno.”

  I shook my head and looked down.

  “What?” said Yevette. “Yu no like it, Bug? Yu girls should uh-preshie-ate what I done fo yu.”

  “But we can’t do anything without papers, Yevette. Don’t you see? If we had stayed, if we had gone through the proper procedure
, maybe they would have released us with papers.”

  “Uh-uh, Bug, uh-uh. It don’t work like dat. Not for pipple from Jamaica, an not for pipple from Nye-Jirrya neither. Get dis into yore head, darlin: dere is only one place where de proper procedure ends, an dat is de-por-tay-SHUN.”

  She tapped the syllables out on my forehead with the palm of her hand, and then she smiled at me.

  “If dey deport us, we gonna be killed when we get back home. Right? Dis way at leas we got a chance, darlin, yu better believe it.”

  “But we can’t work if we are illegal, Yevette. We can’t earn money. We can’t live.”

  Yevette shrugged.

  “Yu can’t live if yu dead, neither. Yu probly too smart to get dat.”

  I sighed and I shook my head. Yevette grinned.

  “Dat’s what I like to see,” she said. “A young ting like yu being rill-istic. Now, lissen. Yu tink dese English people yu know could help us?”

  I looked down at the driver’s license.

  “I do not know.”

  “But yu don’t know no one else, huh?”

  “No.”

  “An what we gonna do when we get dere, if I come wid yu?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we could find work, somewhere where they do not ask us for papers.”

  “Easy fo yu. Yu smart, yu talk nice. Plenty work fo a girl like yu.”

  “You talk nice too, Yevette.”

  “Me talk like a ooman who swallowed a ooman who talk nice. Me dumb, yu nuh see it?”

  “You are not dumb, Yevette. All of us who have got this far, all of us who have survived—how can we be dumb? Dumb could not come this far, I am telling you.”

  Yevette leaned in toward me and whispered.

  “Are you sirius? Yu no see de way Sari Girl start gigglin at dat taxi back dere?”

  “Okay. Maybe Sari Girl is not very clever. But she is prettier than all of us.”