“Deon, my love.”
His voice wasn’t clear. “Shakira. Fraser told me they found you.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Was I lost?”
He sounded hesitant, or maybe the connection or her nerves made it seem so. “You were, Shakira. I searched all I could. No one would help, but Fraser promised to update me weekly.”
“Dear Fraser. He’s committed, isn’t he?”
“I was told the search is near an—”
“I can’t talk about it. We can’t. The line could be tapped.”
He inhaled. “You’re right. I guess I can’t ask when you’re coming home either.”
The call was on speaker, with Eddy and Runo listening in. She glanced at both officers. Runo shook her head.
“I don’t know, darling. But I can’t wait.”
It was the truth, and it made her emotional. Why had she needed to come this far away to realize how much she loved her husband? Though she may not be able to discuss the case, it gave her sweet relief that she could at least be sincere with him about her desire to come back home to him.
The flatness of his voice broke her. “If it will ever happen.”
“Oh, Deon.” She sucked in her breath, but the sobs escaped all the same. “I’m so sorry.”
He made a guttural sound, and soon his cries were louder than hers. She heard rather than saw Eddy a moment before he took the receiver from her.
“You need to say goodbye,” he whispered.
Shakira sucked in her breath and through hiccups told Deon she had to hang up.
“They told me I may not call for a while. I agree you are in safe hands and should do whatever—”
Runo snapped, “Say goodbye, Shakira.”
Shakira wheezed. Her eyes accused Runo and Eddy as she succumbed to a quick farewell and hung up. It seemed a good call, but she knew she had to talk to Deon again soon. Everything she might have done in the past would somehow haunt her now. She didn’t expect Deon to hop back on the soul train and dance all night long with her. She had work to do.
“Can I write to him? Send an email?”
Runo took the cell phone from her limp hand. “We’ll discuss it and let you know.”
It was late. Nigerian time said some minutes to midnight, which meant Deon was home after work as well.
She stood. “I’m tired. It was a long day.”
Eddy waved her off and spoke to Runo. The two understood a language she didn’t, and they delved into it. She returned to her room, where she’d paced for hours waiting for Deon’s call, and changed into a soft cotton nightgown, part of her new wardrobe. Whoever did the shopping knew how to stock a woman’s closet.
She slid between her cool sheets and succumbed to tearful night worship and prayer.
The following day dawned with her having a fresh mind and a desire to work and earn a living again. Her circumstances were weird. She wasn’t even given a contract for her job, and she wondered how much Mrs. Ogah knew about her besides being a missionary. Did the principal know she was someone else, a lie? All she was sure of was the order not to speak about her identity with anyone. She would bury her head in her work as a teacher and preach in Pastor Goodwill’s church when given the go-ahead.
After the call from Deon, she had a new assurance that she had not lost her marriage. He may never forget she left him, but she hoped he would forgive it and let her be the woman he once loved and married. Even better. She refused to judge him by the coldness she heard in his voice and attributed it to the long-distance call. She would pray him into loving her again.
The first full day in the class got Shakira so occupied with knowing her students better that she didn’t know when it was time for break. The bell rang, and the children screamed with excitement as they rushed to their bags to get their lunch packs.
Shakira beckoned to Rose. “Do they leave the class during break time?” Where would they sit to eat? She hadn’t noticed a cafeteria or hall besides the main church.
“They eat in class. But you can go for lunch. I will watch them.”
Shakira shook her head. “No, thanks. I will eat my lunch here as well.”
“Can I go for lunch then?”
“Yes, please.”
Rose nodded. “Thank you, ma. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
Rose picked up her handbag and exited.
“Alright. Settle down to your lunch,” Shakira said, raising her voice. “I don’t want to get mad at you now.”
The kids obeyed at once, perhaps because she was new.
Runo walked to her desk. “Joshua is here. I’m meeting with him in the principal’s office if you need me.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
The cop left, and Shakira bent to take out the sandwich she’d packed for her. To give credit to the hard woman, she could cook. Her food wasn’t as spicy as some Shakira had eaten in Nigeria, and it tasted nice.
“I’d advise you to go back home so you won’t need any of them police people.”
Shakira snapped her head up and came face-to-face with Florence Odu, or whatever her name was. Right in front of her desk, wearing one of the uniforms the two school cleaners wore. To her chagrin, the criminal wasn’t recognizable at first. But Shakira knew the voice.
She gulped. “Florence?”
“I didn’t kill your babies. They drowned while I was busy.”
Shakira could scream, but she considered the class, the little children in her care, unaware of the evil lurking.
“How could you?” she said in a harsh whisper. “Come here? Meet me somewhere else; let’s talk.”
The woman headed toward the classroom exit. “Go back home!”