Waving at Trains

Nalo Hopkinson

Summers, Priithi and I were on our own while our parents were at work. We would meet in the corner of the playground, by that big old tamarind tree; you know the one? When it was close to tamarind season, and the fruit green and hard on the tree, the boys from the boys’ school across the way would pick the unripe tamarind pods and pelt the girls from our school with them, till the caretaker came and shooed them away. By the time summer holidays came around, any fruit left on the tree would ripen, getting fat and brown. Then they would just fall to the ground, cracking their brittle shells open when they landed. Ants and mongoose would feed on the broken fruit.

Today the tropical sun was beating down warm on my head—Priithi would scold me for not wearing my hat—and my sandals kicked up grey dirt with each step, powdering my bare legs almost to the knee. I stopped to pull the belt tighter around the waistband of the khaki shorts I was wearing. They were my brother’s, way too big for me. The pockets sagged and the hems came almost to my knees. But Priithi said khaki would be better for walking and climbing in than my light sundresses, and along with the brown T-shirt I was wearing, I would be harder to spot when we got into the bush. She said all those bright flower patterns I liked to wear wouldn’t be any good. She was probably right. Too besides, those big pockets would be good for carrying pelting stones in, and the pocket knife I had found in the back of a kitchen drawer at home.

Something must be was dead in the underbrush by the side of the road. At first, the back of my neck went cold. But then I realized that the rotten smell had a cooked quality to it, like when you drop an egg into a frying pan with hot oil in it before you realize that the egg spoil. Whatever was hidden by the crackly, dried-up scrub over there, it wasn’t moving anymore.

Still. No cars on the road, so I moved away from the roadside and walked along the broken white line down the middle. Made me feel deliciously wicked. If Daddy could see me, he would trace me off for walking in the road like that.

Daddy couldn’t see me.

My throat was parched. I hoped Priithi had brought some water from the standpipe in her yard. The taps in our house weren’t working.

When we had nothing else to do on those summer days, Priithi and I would go down to the train tracks and wait for passenger trains to pass. We’d wave at the people inside. Our hearts leapt when anyone waved back. It was as though, by them opening a hand to us, they were taking a little piece of us with them to wherever they were going, to exciting places we couldn’t travel to.

The trains weren’t coming right now, though.

Priithi was waiting for me by the gate to the playground. “You have everything?” she asked.

“For our hike? Yeah.” I pointed to the rucksack on my back.

She craned her neck to look behind me. “Look like you scarcely fill it at all, Angela.”

My face got hot, hotter than the sunshine warming it. “I did! I put in everything you said!”

“You put the matches?”

“Yes, but I only find half a box.”

“Not even a lighter?”

I was so stupid. “I didn’t think of that.” Mummy kept a lighter in her purse. I should have gotten it out of there. It would only have been a little messy. “You want us to go back and get it?” I certainly wasn’t going to go alone.

“Never mind,” Priithi said. “We will manage.”

“You bring water, Priithi? I so thirsty!”

She cut her eyes at me. “Of course not. You know you have to come and help me with it.”

She was right. Water was heavy to carry, and we would need plenty of it for the two of us. “But I don’t want to go to your house,” I said.

“Coward.”

“I just don’t want to see . . .”

“It not so bad,” she replied. “Mostly dried up.”

I took a deep, shaky breath and turned in the direction of Priithi’s place. And, once again, she was right. The school was quiet, but then, people had stopped going there when it all started. The cows lying in the field across from the sweetie shop were like big raisins. There weren’t as many flies buzzing around outside the shop, like before. So I guessed Mrs. Kramer who owned the shop was in the same shape as the cows. The people in the few cars along the roadside were quiet and still. Even Mummy had been almost dried up. I could have pried her hand off her handbag easy to get her lighter. I should have realized when I smelled the something dead in the weeds; it was happening all over town. For the past month, everything had smelled like that, everywhere. The first symptom was dehydration. Then would come fever, bellyache, attacking people, then getting quiet, lying down, deading, and drying up and floating away on the wind.

Priithi and I were going to walk our way out of town. In my rucksack, I had some stale bread, a can of condensed milk, and a roll of toilet paper. We would only need one, don’t it? We wouldn’t get very far. Don’t someone would come and rescue us soon?

The sun was so hot! I rubbed my belly. I was getting vex. At everything, at everyone. Except Priithi.

If I concentrated really hard, I could feel Priithi’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me to her house.

There was a rat lying by the roadside. Its legs were still moving a little bit. Something exploded in my mind. Screaming, I stomped it into pulp. The squishing and crunching under my sandals was almost as good as drinking cool water on a hot day. I scraped my sandals off along the ground and headed toward Priithi’s place again.

It would be all right. When I got there, I just wouldn’t look at her. I would just get some water from the standpipe; I was so parched! Then maybe I would lie down for a little rest before I walked away from this town.