take long.” He fixes his stern I’m-the-head-of-the-house gaze on me.
With a sigh of resignation, I plonk myself onto the chair. “OK. What’s wrong?”
“Connie…” He frowns, then sighs and starts again. “Connie. We both know you’re… I mean you’re very… you’re a smart girl. I’m not talking about school. What I mean is, you’re more… insightful than most people.” He’s squirming in his seat, his thoughts running back and forth as he tries to find the right words. If he knew that I knew what he was thinking, what would he do?
“Dad –”
“Let me finish.” He clears his throat. “You’re sensitive. Intuitive! Yes, intuitive. Your mother was, too. She had a way of sensing what people were feeling, you know? Empathy. Yes, that’s the word. With you it’s a bit… somewhat… stronger.” My father, king of the understatement. “It’s a useful trait, wonderful really, but… um…” He hesitates, then flashes an uncertain smile. “But I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand it.”
“Dad, we’ve talked about this,” I point out.
“Yes, but you’re older now. I just don’t want you making the wrong decisions, or getting involved in things that are… unhealthy.”
I put on a puzzled expression. “What sorts of things?”
“Ah well, you know… there are many things that can lead a young girl astray.” He coughs and lowers his gaze to the table.
“You don’t have to worry. I don’t like parties or drinking, my friends are good kids and I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He nods. “I know. But we all have our weaknesses, and yours isn’t alcohol or boys. It’s… the other thing. You know what I mean. All that… mumbo jumbo your grandfather’s always raving about. You’re so drawn to it, and it’s not good for you!”
I take a deep breath and try to come up with a way to derail this conversation. “It’s harmless, Dad. Really. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“But I do. When he has you going over there first thing in the morning, or late in the day when you should be home doing your schoolwork, then I have to worry, Connie.”
I raise my eyebrows. “So I shouldn’t spend time with him?”
“I didn’t say that.” But that’s what he’s thinking. He cracks his knuckles and frowns, wishing my grandfather had never come back to Botswana, then hating himself for wishing it. “He’s your grandfather; of course you should spend time with him. I want you to have a good relationship with him, for your mother’s sake and your own. But the man is relentless! Every chance he gets he’s planting all this crazy stuff in your head. He’s convinced that you’re some kind of… of… medium, or God knows what, and he refuses to see sense! A man with his reputation and education – I just don’t get it.”
Poor Dad. As exasperating as he is, I can understand where he’s coming from. “Dad, don’t get angry. He’s just doing what he thinks is best.”
“But he’s wrong!” he splutters.
“Well, he thinks you’re wrong, too.” I put my elbows on the table and lean forward. “I don’t want to be caught in the middle. I get it – you two don’t agree on anything. But you’re both family, and you both love me. That’s enough.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not? If you can’t get along, just stay away from each other so we can keep the peace. Please!”
Dad nods. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m just worried about the sort of ideas he’s –”
I groan and bury my head in my hands. “Dad! Please. Let it go.”
He looks at me. I tune out his thoughts and focus on the fear in his eyes. “I just need you to know that this world of his is not real. It’s a mixture of culture and superstition. It’s not solid. This is.” He waves a hand at the room and heaves a weary sigh. “Your mother would have dealt with this better. Maybe I’m too white.”
“Much too white,” I whisper with a smile.
He grins and shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I just want you to keep your feet on the ground. I want you to be careful.”
“Dad.” I reach across the table and put my hand over his. “Do you know me at all? When have I not been careful?”
“You’re right, of course.” His tone is sheepish.
I push the chair back and get to my feet. “Can we please stop having this conversation?”
He smiles. “I think we’ve filled the quota for the next few years.”
“Good.” I walk round the table and kiss his cheek. “Night, Dad.”
“Night, Connie.”
I can feel his eyes on me all the way down the corridor.
07:00
“The number you have dialled…”
Oh, for goodness sake, Lizard. Where are you?
As soon as the bell goes for lunch I head for the Form One classrooms. After a while I see Amantle and her friend emerge. This time I can sense something going on in their heads, but their thoughts are murky and unclear. I pass them, catch their gazes and smile. The other girl smiles back, but Amantle shoots me a suspicious glance and tosses her head. Now I can see why she and Kelly get along so well. I’m not going to get anything out of her, but her friend looks promising.
I hurry over to the bench. My friends are already there, Wiki unwrapping his lunch and Lebz looking on in distaste.
I collapse onto the bench beside them. “Is it my turn to get the food?”
Lebz hands me some money by way of reply. “Where were you?”
“Stalking Amantle. She’s not very friendly.”
“I told you.” Lebz scowls. “What do you want with her, anyway?”
“I told you something strange is going on with those girls.” I sit up straight and open my bag, looking for my wallet. “I intend to find out what it is.”
“Something strange?” Wiki looks up from his lunch. “You mean your kind of strange?”
I nod. “I told my grandfather about them and he thinks something is up, too. So I need to find out whatever I can. Amantle is too savvy to let anything slip, but I could probably get close to her friend.” I rummage around in the wallet and locate a few coins.
“Rose?” Lebz wrinkles her nose. “Well, maybe. She’s probably the nicest one, but you’ll never catch her on her own. She’s like Amantle’s shadow.”
“We’ll see.” I stand up, clutching the money. “The usual?” I take a handful of coins from Wiki and head for the tuck-shop.
I can now tune out the thoughts of the people around me by focusing my attention on something else. It’s not as easy as it sounds, but I can get about five minutes of relative peace and quiet before the thoughts start intruding again. Sometimes I just sit back and let them run through my head, like a silent observer. It’s incredible how much people think; constantly, about random things, as if their brains will rot if there’s more than a moment of silence. Well, I appreciate silence now.
I brace myself for the barrage of thoughts coming from the crowd outside the tuck-shop, but it’s quieter than usual. There are at least fifty kids here, but for some reason all I’m getting is muted voices and vague images. I shake my head and blink and the noise returns, but a few minutes later it fades again. What’s going on? As the line moves forward I keep my eyes on my hands, letting the thoughts drift around in the back of my head. I buy two packets of fresh chips and three soft drinks, then turn around to make my way