[2016] Rubbing Stones

by Nancy Burkey

  Paul’s hands were trembling, he looked pale and weak.

  Paul laughed. “Yeah, right.” He sat down and started picking at the food, not much making it to his mouth. “Who’re you kidding?”

  “Excuse me?” Jane glanced over at Zuka. He wasn’t within earshot as long as she didn’t raise her voice. But Michael—he’d paused before walking slowly back up to their hut with the plates, and now he was avoiding eye contact with her. She turned and glared at Paul.

  He shook his head. “One thing’s for sure, he certainly reacts differently to you than to me.”

  His breathing was labored. She watched him for a few minutes, wondered why he’d even ventured out. He should be in bed. She’d have Michael take him food from now on. He turned his head slightly and she gasped.

  “What happened?” There was a large bruise covering his right temple. His eye was swollen almost shut. There were shiny blotches where areas of skin were missing.

  He glanced over at Zuka. “I seem to have run into the butt of his rifle.”

  “Let me see that.” She leaned over to have a closer look. “You need some antibiotic ointment on the open wounds.”

  Paul flinched as she reached toward his face. “No, that’s okay. I’ve got it. Wouldn’t want to incite the wrath of your…friend.” He glanced over at Zuka, then picked up his plate and limped back to his hut, leaving Jane to eat alone.

  Michael walked up the steps slowly. The best time to leave Rick food would be early evening he decided. He’d been mulling over the options after last night’s near fiasco. He’d gone out late, when it was pitch black, so no one would be able see him. But then he became acutely aware of the silence. While everyone slept, any noise would easily be heard by Zuka who was keeping watch. Michael had barely slept all night, leaving Rick hungry like that. But it wasn’t safe—better to wait until there was more activity in camp.

  In the early evening the light would be low and there’d be noise as they prepared and ate dinner. Zuka and Japera would be focused on their hostages gathered at the picnic area, not paying attention to the areas behind the huts. He just hoped it’d be dark enough for Rick to approach the back of the hut without being seen. It wasn’t good to bring Rick into camp while it was still light, but it was the only way.

  Jake stirred as Michael walked in, then turned over and fell back to sleep. Michael hid Rick’s plate in the corner of the hut. He took half of the large helping on Jake’s plate and sat on his cot to dig in.

  What could Rick be thinking out there by himself? He tried to imagine whether he could survive the elements, the hunger, the loneliness. At least Rick was alive. But it had to be awful, getting weaker and weaker and not being able to help. Michael sat back. He bit the inside of his cheek. There was something disturbing about their conversation. What did he know?

  He set the plate down and shook Jake. “Food’s here. I’ll eat whatever you can’t finish.” He picked up his book and stared at the page.

  It was hard not to think about his mother and Zuka. It sickened him. Michael’s eyes wandered from the page. He had to get his mind off his mom.

  Who was that guy in the park? He couldn’t remember his name, he didn’t go to his school. The guy knew Caitlin had a boyfriend, knew she’d even called him that night. But the jerk got her drunk and by the time Michael showed up, she was half dressed, lying on the grass in the park with that guy all over her. She’d passed out, but he didn’t seem to care, she could’ve been asleep or dead as far as he was concerned.

  By the time Dylan pulled Michael off the guy there was blood everywhere. He’d figured it was his nose. It wasn’t until days later that he learned he’d broken the guy’s jaw.

  “Why are you so quiet?” Jake stood over him, holding the half-eaten plate of food. It was the first time he’d been up in several days. “Here, I can keep food down now but still can’t eat much. The rest is yours.”

  “What are you doing?” Shelly’s voice was barely audible as Jane crept closer toward the window.

  She didn’t expect Zuka to leave the girl alone just because she’d told him to, but why was he sneaking in? After all, he was the one with the gun. He’d headed for Shelly’s hut right after Jane went in for the night—probably thought she wouldn’t be back out until the wee hours of the morning as usual.

  Jane had turned out her light and watched him from the window. He was lit by moonlight and when he disappeared into Shelly’s hut, Jane slipped out of her doorway.

  She inched closer. She crouched directly under the window, next to steps that led to the door. If there was any struggle, she’d burst right in. She wasn’t sure what she’d do, but whatever happened, it wouldn’t be what Zuka had planned for the girl.

  “You put it in the lodge,” Shelly said. “I don’t understand.”

  Jane could hear sniffles between Shelly’s heavy breaths. She walked softly up the steps of the porch, put her hand on the door handle.

  “Don’t you?” He sounded distracted, unengaged. “If not, then you’re even less useful than I thought.”

  Useful? Jane froze. Had her involvement with Zuka put Shelly in even more danger? There were worse things than rape. Suddenly there was a loud noise she couldn’t identify—some sort of scraping on the floor, furniture was being moved, things tossed around.

  “I can help you.” Shelly’s voice, louder now, seemed to come from the corner where her cot had been the other night. Was she tied up again? “I want to help.”

  “Then where is it?”

  Jane gripped the handle tighter. Zuka’s voice came from a different part of the hut every time he spoke. If she were going to burst in, she needed to know where to expect him.

  “I told you, I don’t know.” Her voice was soft again. “Please, Zuka, you know you’ve got everything under control.”

  That’s right—appeal to his narcissism, seduce him. Better than being seen as useless to his mission.

  “You probably took it out and put it in your hut, you just forgot,” she said. “Sit down, talk to me. We’re a good team, always have been.”

  Always? What’s the timeline? How long has Shelly known these men? Jane pulled her hand back from the door.

  Something was thrown across the room.

  “Forgot?”

  “There’s nothing in there. Just some of Lorenzo’s supplies.”

  “What supplies?”

  “Clothes, medical supplies. I’ve ripped up the maps, disassembled the flares, just like we planned months ago. We assumed there’d be some hitches, now we just go with them. We’re on track.”

  Months ago? Jane backed up slowly, felt the ledge with the heel of her foot, and lowered herself to the first step. Suddenly the porch creaked, and she froze. Zuka’s heavy boots moved across the floor toward the corner of the hut.

  “When’s she coming back?”

  Jane lowered herself down to the second step.

  “I don’t know,” Shelly said.

  “I need to know what they’re thinking, their next plan.”

  “I’ll get it. Are you giving her enough space to sneak in? Maybe Japera’s the problem.”

  “She’ll figure it out if she wants to. She still worried about you?”

  “Of course.” Shelly laughed.

  There was movement toward the door. “Zuka, don’t leave. Can’t you stay longer?”

  Jane reached the edge of the porch.

  “Just stick with the plan, I need to know what they’re thinking.”

  Shelly sighed. “Sure.”

  He swung the door open and looked around before he bounded down the stairs. Jane held her breath. Zuka’s steps in his heavy boots had been loud enough to cover hers when she leapt off the stairs. She crouched under the porch, trembling, as she watched Zuka walk away, his rifle slung over one shoulder.

  CHAPTER 28

  It was all she could do not to take off running. Wherever Changa was going, it would be hours before he realized she wasn’t coming back. She cut through the lots b
ehind the school to follow side streets to Zuka’s house. It was important to stay off the main roads, where Changa could be driving.

  As she dashed down alleyways and through backyards, she ran through various scenarios in her head. If she could make him understand, Zuka’s father was sure to be of help. He hadn’t seemed much different from her own father—concerned about his son and mainly interested in making sure he was safe.

  A car rounding the corner sent her darting between two houses to hide behind some trashcans. It was a dark green sedan, but she couldn’t be too careful. She was close now.

  If both Zuka and Japera were in trouble, then Mr. Sibanda and she would be on the same side. But she had to be prepared for other alternatives—hadn’t her mother said something about him losing his teaching job for refusing to join the ruling party? Maybe Zuka and his father were using Japera and Thabani for some political reason. Maybe he’d know where they were but refuse to help her. She increased her pace. Mr. Sibanda was her only hope. Whatever happened, she was bound to find out more than she knew right now.

  She approached the high wall covered with razor wire that surrounded Zuka’s house. The gate in the back was slightly ajar, just like it had been the night she and Japera were there.

  She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but now it struck her as odd to make sure someone can’t climb over your wall, yet leave the gate open. She glanced around quickly before slipping into the yard—

  Her knees went wobbly as soon as she saw the house. The doors and windows were boarded up, every one of them. She had just been here a few nights ago, and now if she didn’t know better she’d have thought the house had been vacant for years.

  “It’s always the details,” Japera had instructed her since she was a little girl. “If you notice the details, knowledge will follow.”

  She went back over her visit. She’d gone into the kitchen, had picked up a glass but not opened a cupboard. It hadn’t been necessary. The glassware was sitting out as if it had just been washed. Then there was the furniture, which had all seemed comfortable and permanent. Was this a stage? Had there been pictures on the walls? What were the implications?

  Katura turned and left the way she had come. Nothing here for her.

  Changa was now her only connection to her brother. Friend or foe, he was all she had. She dashed out the gate—she had to get back to Thabani’s house before Changa did.

  CHAPTER 29

  It was a relief when Japera broke the silence.

  “Your brother doing any better?”

  Michael knew his mother was right, knew how he needed to act with Japera, but he still hadn’t let go of all his anger. He figured a lot of the anger was at himself, for his naiveté—what had he expected? He glanced over at the young black man who sat a few feet away on the edge of the picnic table. There was something about Japera that made him expect the unreasonable.

  “A little.” Michael looked down. “Hey, I’m sorry about—”

  “No need.” Japera waved his hand to stop him. “I understand. You’re worried about Jake.”

  It was jarring to hear Japera mention his brother by name. It sounded so familiar. “No, I mean yes, but still I shouldn’t have been such a jerk. You were just trying to help.”

  Japera looked over at Michael. He stared at him for several minutes before he spoke. “You’re a good man, Michael.”

  Man? Was it a translation problem? He’d rarely been referred to as anything but a boy or a kid, or maybe young man when some adult was pissed off. Of course, kids grew up quicker here.

  He heard the distant but unmistakable sound of an engine—Changa’s supply truck. It would be a minute before they’d actually be able to see the dust cloud it would throw up, another five before they could make out the truck itself. Sound traveled easily in this hot, arid climate. He scanned the perimeter of their encampment. No one was going to sneak up on them without being heard in plenty of time.

  “Nothing to apologize for, Michael. Nothing’s more important than family.”

  Michael knew Japera was trying to make him feel better, but he didn’t. Family was complicated. What did it mean that he was lying to his mother, that he didn’t tell her about Rick? Every time he saw her, he wanted to blurt out that Rick was out there. Of course, it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d lied to his mother about something big.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I can be pretty selfish and impulsive when it comes to my family.”

  Japera laughed. “We have one of those in our family, too—impulsive, but loyal.

  Japera could have been referring to anyone. But all Michael could think about was the way Katura had walked right up to him at the airport—so bold, so sure of herself, much cockier than this older brother of hers.

  “I bet she’s proud of you.”

  Japera stared off into the distance. “She doesn’t know about this.”

  “How. . .she doesn’t know? But you said family’s more important than anything. What about honesty?”

  “Sometimes loyalty and honesty are the same. Sometimes not.”

  “Come on, that’s bullshit. Isn’t that just a way to rationalize doing whatever you want and still feeling okay about it?”

  “No, it doesn’t feel okay. Just the opposite. But it’s the right thing to do.” He turned to look directly into Michael’s eyes. “I’m sure you can imagine why it’s important for my little sister not to know. It’s because of loyalty to her that I didn’t tell her.”

  Michael sat back. Did Japera’s rationale apply to his situation with his mother?

  “What happens if you change your mind? What if you realize down the road that it was just easier to lie, that it was selfish, not really in anyone’s best interest but your own?” He was no longer thinking about Rick. His mind had wandered to a cloud that had hung over him for years.

  “Then eventually you have to come clean.” Japera hopped off the table as the truck drove up the entrance. “Guilt drives a wedge between people. Come on, might have a heavier load this time. Zuka ordered extra, said Lorenzo and Shelly are eating more than he expected.”

  Michael laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  Japera turned around. “What do you mean?”

  “He said Lorenzo?” Michael’s thoughts were racing. Hadn’t Japera been in their hut? Come to think of it, Zuka always went in, kept Japera on watch when they were brought food. It wouldn’t surprise him that Zuka wouldn’t tell Japera that Lorenzo was dead, but why would he keep his escape a secret?

  Japera stared at him. “He’s not in there?”

  Michael was silent.

  Japera then turned back, not to look at Shelly’s hut, but at Zuka’s. “Come on, we’ll empty the food.”

  Michael followed after him. He knew the routine—unload the truck, don’t look directly at the driver, behave like Japera’s quiet, obedient servant. He stood back while the two men talked. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how important it was to him that the girl not be a part of the plan—that her playfulness with him not have been a set-up, making him the fool.

  “Hey, what are you waiting for?” Changa said. “It’s open.” Michael passed by them to start unloading. “I’ve got to get back before dark, there’s more police on the streets these days and they like to stop cars at night.”

  The heavy van doors separated Michael from the men. He couldn’t hear Japera’s quieter voice. The back was full of bags. It looked like Changa didn’t intend to deliver again for several days. He slowly lifted a bag into each arm, taking his time, listening as he passed by.

  “Oh, she’s fine, clueless. I’ve got a guy watching the house while I’m gone, making sure no one tries to go in.”

  “Doesn’t she get antsy to get out?”

  “I let her play futbol with some local kids when I’m there, but I watch the papers. If anything shows up, I’ll keep her inside.”

  Michael tried to keep his pace exactly as it had been before, just taking the two bags inside the dining
lodge.

  He’s got Katura staying with this thug? Unbelievable. Michael let his right hand slide up the side of the bag, then released it. He swept his hand down quickly, made a clumsy grab for a potato—it hit the dirt.

  “Idiot!” Changa yelled. “Don’t put those dirty things back in the bag. Rinse them off, you fool!” He looked at Japera, who nodded at Michael.

  Michael ran over to the table to get his water bottle, then up onto the porch to grab his windbreaker jacket, the same one he’d worn at the airport. He rinsed the vegetables that had hit the dirt, dried them with the lining of the jacket, and replaced them in the bag. He looked over at Japera, who wasn’t paying him any attention.

  Michael swung the jacket over his shoulder and continued unloading. When he entered the lodge he grabbed two small cucumbers, a green banana, and some unidentifiable greens. He stuffed them down his pants, making sure his oversized T-shirt covered all evidence. He held up a ripe tomato, then put it back in the bag. Rick could probably benefit from the fresh juice, but it might get smashed as he walked.

  He heard the back doors of the van slam shut as he headed out. Changa carried the last two bags and passed him on the steps without a word.

  “Anything in the front seat?” he asked Japera as soon as Changa was inside the lodge.

  Japera looked over at the van. “Go see.”

  Michael circled around the van to the passenger side, out of Japera’s view.

  “No, looks like we got it all.” He quickly tucked his jacket just below the seat, noticeable only to anyone who might enter on the passenger side. Katura’s three small rubbing stones still nestled in the right front pocket.

  Jane rapped lightly on the door. She didn’t want to wake Paul if he was finally getting some sleep. He’d complained about being up and down with leg pain over the past several nights and Michael had mentioned seeing him walk around camp near midnight getting water.

  Tommy had come by earlier this morning to see if Jake was well enough to kick the soccer ball around. But Jake only had the energy for cards, and they played a couple of games of gin rummy. Jane figured Paul could use the reprieve. She knocked again, then opened the door and peeked in.