Blood & Milk by N.R. Walker Page A

afternoon, when we worked patching the roof of our hut, and he watched me again as I sat with the women, making beads and darning clothes. It probably didn’t help that Momboa sat on my lap begging me to sing the alphabet song with him again and again.
    When Kijani called Damu over to where he and Kasisi were watching, I stood up too. I wasn’t sure what I could do or say to defend him, but if they had an issue with my asking permission to teach the kids, then they could speak to me about it.
    “ Awúên, awúên ,” Amali said. Sit down. Sit down .
    Kijani and Kasisi led Damu away, where no one could hear them speak. The longer he was gone, the more I worried.
    “He be fine,” Amali said.
    I tried to smile for her, but my concern was too great. “I don’t want to cause him trouble.”
    She waved me off with a smile and went about her chores. Soon they were singing again, but I remained silent and kept looking for Damu to return. The sun was getting lower and lower and the light was almost gone when Damu returned. He found me waiting outside our hut, and I was so relieved to see him.
    “Are you okay?”
    He took my hand―a Maasai gesture of friends, I reminded myself―and led me inside. It was, as always, dark inside, but when we sat facing each other, I could see his face. “I am fine. They have decision on school.”
    Oh. “Really? Well, what did they say?”
    “They say, yes.”
    My relief and grin was instantaneous. “Really?”
    Damu laughed. “Yes. Condition, they have condition.”
    I wouldn’t expect anything else. “Of course. That’s fine. When can I start?”
    “Tomorrow. We start tomorrow.”
    I couldn’t help myself. I was so excited and happy, I acted without thinking. I leaned up on my knees and hugged him. “Thank you!” I pulled back. “Sorry.” I put some distance between us, as much as the small hut allowed anyway. “Here, let me cook the ugali,” I said, scooting over to start the porridge. I busied myself with dinner, but when I risked a glance back at Damu, I found him looking at me with a smile that might have been half shy, half smitten.
    I handed him his bowl. “Let’s eat.”
     
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
     
     
    Jarrod smiles as he picks up branches. He looks different under the Tanzanian sunlight, brighter somehow, like a light shone from within. The women help me build an open shelter, the children too, and there is singing and humming as a constant background noise.
    Jarrod lifts one branch, laying it flat on the roof, while Amali and Yantai weigh the leaves down with mud. I can’t stop staring at him, much like I always did. Feeling my eyes upon him, he stares right back at me. He gives a pointed nod to Damu and chuckles like he knows something I don’t.
    “What’s so funny?” I ask.
    Jarrod’s smile slowly fades, his gaze never leaves mine, as though he’s speaking to me with his mind. He’s so close, I reach out to touch him, but my hand feels nothing but air. “Say something,” I plead. “If I can just hear your voice.”
    The corner of Jarrod’s lip curls upwards and looks fondly at Damu. And with a wistful smile, he disappears like he was never there. The man I loved, the man I lived for, is gone.
    Again.
     
    “Alé.” Damu’s voice was low, his breath warm on my neck. He shook me gently. “Shhh.”
    I realised I was asleep in his arms again, on his tiny mattress. My heart was hammering, and I knew immediately my dreaming had woken him. My eyes burned with tears and my throat was thick. I breathed in a ragged sob, feeling Jarrod leave me all over again bore with it a physical ache.
    It was still dark outside, I could see through the doorway, and I reckoned it was about three in the morning. I should have scrambled over to my bed of dirt in the corner, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
    Instead, I pulled Damu’s arm tighter around me, snuggled right back against him, feeling the safety of his hold, and closed my eyes.
    * * * *
    I woke