12

Ma recovered quickly, but for days she was too weak to cook or work on the farm. Her illness made me realize how fragile our lives were. The slightest change could be a catastrophe because we had nothing. Uncle Koku had been kind and generous, but there was only so much he could do, and it was not fair to make too many demands on him. Togbe was gone and Ma was doing all she could, but as we had seen, it was too much for her. I was the eldest. For everyone’s sake, I had to find a way to make things better.

There was little time to think because I had to study for exams, and perhaps that lack of time made up my mind for me. It was during my morning paper on Thursday that I decided I would go with Bright to work on the Volta Lake. It wouldn’t be forever, I’d be one less mouth to feed at home, and it could change everything. The long vac would start next week, so Klenam and Mawuli would be free to help Ma on the farm. She’d forgive me when she got over the shock. And one day we’d all be happy because I’d done it.

We’d have to leave on a school day because we couldn’t tell anyone, and it would be easier to slip away from the school grounds than from home. But tomorrow was the last day of school! I took a deep breath when I got back to my bedroom that afternoon. I needed to start preparing before I lost heart.

The next morning while Mawuli was taking his bath I packed as many of my meager possessions as I could fit into my school backpack—underwear, two pairs of shorts, two T-shirts, and my sleeping cloth. I needed to leave space for books for last-minute study and for my water bottle, which I was going to need. I looked around the room, this precious space we’d shared with Togbe for eight years, receding into my memories till Mawuli came back in to get dressed.

When the two of us walked out of the room in our school uniforms and headed for the kitchen to join Klenam for breakfast, I said to Mawuli, “Oh, I forgot something! You go on ahead.”

I hurried back to the room, plucking an envelope out of my backpack. With trembling fingers, I tucked it under Mawuli’s pillow. I took deep breaths to steady myself as I closed the door behind me for the last time. After breakfast the three of us said goodbye to Ma and headed off, but at the last minute I turned around, came back, and hugged her. She looked at me in surprise.

“I’m just so happy to see you back on your feet again, Ma!” I tried to keep my voice steady.

“God bless you, my son!” She smiled. “And good luck today!”

She waved us off, and I deflected tears by pouncing on Mawuli and hoisting him onto my shoulders. He squealed with delight and covered my eyes with his hands.

“Stop that, you little monkey!” I prized his hands away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the traces of damp from my eyes that his fingers had transferred to my shirt. I held on to one of his legs and, with my free hand, grabbed Klenam’s.

“Ei!” She was taken by surprise. “Someone must be feeling good about his last exam! Or did Kekeli smile at you yesterday?”

They laughed at me, but I just joined in, keeping my little brother on my shoulders and my sister’s hand in mine even when she tried to pull it away. She gave in with a resigned eye roll, perhaps buying what I’d said about my joy at Ma’s recovery, which was, after all, a shared one. We walked on as we were, as if in celebration of it, till the school buildings came into sight. Then she squeezed my hand and shook me off with a playful smack. “Hey, good luck in your last paper, okay?”

“Yes, good luck, Thena!” called Mawuli over his shoulder as I let him down. He had lost teeth again, and I tried to lock his mischievous, gappy smile into my memory as he ran off.

At morning assembly, I kept glancing at Keli, trying to store as much as possible of her too, in my mind. She noticed, and maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt she sensed some of my agitation, because I fancied I saw something like concern in her eyes. What she didn’t know was that she was partly the cause of it. This might be my last chance to make that move Togbe had talked about. I’d been so wrapped up in family worries since that conversation that I hadn’t come back to plan how to put his advice into practice. And now it might be too late. I had no idea how to fit such a thing into this crazy day, but if I was going to act, now was the time!

Bright and I had our last paper that morning, but Keli still had one in the afternoon. Klenam and Mawuli would also be in school, and Ma at the farm, so it was the perfect time to slip away. But it would be one more burden on my heart if I left without finding a way to talk to her.

Our paper was over by morning break, and Bright was anxious to leave, but I told him to wait till the bell rang and classes resumed so no one would see us go. I didn’t say anything about Keli, but my heart was beating faster than usual. It seemed to have a plan it had not yet shared with my brain. We walked over to the snack corner and bought extra food so we could take some along on the bus. I had no idea where or what our next meal would be. The thought made my stomach feel like it wanted to dive out of me and hide somewhere.

Keli and her buddies were playing ampé behind the classrooms. I could tell she saw me watching from a distance as Bright and I chewed roasted corn in silence, sitting in our usual spot on the wall under the mango tree. As we left the snack corner I walked extra slowly, and Bright cast a quizzical glance at me. Then he saw that the girls had finished their game and were heading for the classroom block. He grinned and fell quietly in step beside me.

I still felt like I had only half a plan, and my heart began to race. There were more than ten girls walking toward us, and as the space narrowed, they were starting to stare and giggle the way girls did. Just when I felt like nudging Bright and turning tail to flee, I saw Keli whisper something in Susie’s ear, and Susie threw a pointed glance at me, then filed off tittering with the other girls while Keli lingered behind, fiddling with something in her hand and looking as though she had an important errand to run.

Bright slapped me on the back—“See you in a mo!”—and I heard the unspoken Good luck! in his tone as he made himself scarce.

I came to a standstill in front of Keli, not quite sure what I was doing, and even less sure what I was going to say, and she looked at me as if she’d just noticed me.

“Oh, hi!” she said.

“Keli,” I said. “I mean, Kekeli!” In my head I gave myself a good slap.

“It’s okay!” she said with a flippant wave of her hand, smiling that perfectly parallel smile.

Whatever I had planned or not planned to say flew clean out of my head. All I could do was smile back. But I didn’t feel stupid this time. I had no idea what we looked like, standing there smiling at each other, but it felt as right and in sync as the ampé game she’d just been playing. It was as though I had agonized over an exam, prepared for the worst, then passed with flying colors in spite of myself. The strangest thing was that I knew this moment had been brought about by my own nervous energy, and yet all my worries—actually, everything in the whole wide world—fell away, and life suddenly seemed so easy that it was as if some secret had been kept away from me until right that minute.

The bell rang, and she turned and glanced anxiously in the direction of the classroom.

“Keli, wait!” I said, still clueless as to where my courage was coming from. “I just… want to wish you luck for your exam!” I really meant that, and she saw it, and again—I could feel—sensed what I couldn’t tell her—if not the detail of it, then that there was something… something grave and critical afoot in my world.

“Thank you!” she said, not asking why I was saying this to her now. “And to you, Sena, for your results—best of luck to you too!”

My name in her mouth was so sweet that I barely heard anything else and didn’t notice till she turned away that she’d dropped something.

“Wait!” I bent down to get it for her. But she ran off, flashing a smile over her shoulder.

It was her heart-shaped eraser. She meant me to have it; that much was clear, perhaps to give me an easier way to approach her next time, or maybe as a token because junior high was almost over and we’d soon be parting ways. She might even, on some inexplicable level, have sensed we were saying goodbye right now.

I enclosed it in my palm, a warm feeling spreading over me. As I raced to find Bright, Togbe’s words came back to me about trusting my instincts, finding the words, carving out a space in the universe even if it only amounted to a minute. How right he had been! Keli and I had made it happen, and I felt as though he were celebrating with us.

As I left school soon afterward without looking back, my thoughts on the letter I’d stashed beneath my brother’s pillow, the rubbery little heart I clutched in my pocket gave me strength.

My beloved Ma, Klenam, and Mawuli,

By the time you get this I will be far away. It is cowardly, I know, but I cannot see your faces and walk away. Please forgive me, knowing that I have gone to make a better life for us all, one in which I will never have to come close to losing one of you again. I promise to come back as soon as I am able to bring better fortunes along with me. Until then, please stay strong for each other, and contact Uncle Koku in case of any emergency. I carry you in my heart and will send word as soon as I can. I know God and Togbe will watch over us all, and bring us back together for a brighter future, one day soon.

Loving you always,

Sena