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Amber stared out the window as the Air France flight cruised over the shores of Senegal. Grandma sat beside her fast asleep. How could she? Amber thought. They were running from who knows what to who knows where and Grandma snored beside her as if they were taking a trip to Disney World. She leaned forward to look to the opposite row. Bissau’s face was pressed against the window. He turned suddenly to look at her as if he expected to see her, his eyes sparkling in perfect harmony with his glittering teeth.
“You should see this!” he said. “It’s amazing. Everything looks so small!”
She smiled back at him nervously then sat back in her seat.
“Okay girl, get a hold of yourself,” she whispered. It didn’t matter that Bissau was cute. She was in the middle of an adventure she couldn’t have dreamed up if she wanted. This couldn’t be real, yet it was. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine things different but she couldn’t. She was on her way to Senegal to save a kingdom. This was crazy.
The captain announced their approach. Amber placed her hand on Grandma’s shoulder then shook her easy.
“Grandma, we’re landing. You got to sit up and buckle your seatbelt.”
Grandma turned toward her and her eyes cracked open.
“What you say, baby?”
“We’re landing, Grandma. Put on your seatbelt.”
“Landing? What are you...oh! We’re landing in Senegal!”
Grandma sat straight and leaned past Amber to peer out the window.
“I’m home, Amber!” she sang. “I’m home.”
Amber looked into Grandma’s eyes as she sat back in her seat. There was a gleam in her eyes, a light she hadn’t noticed since grandpa died. Her face seemed brighter, almost younger as she snapped her seat belt and snuggled into the seat.
“I didn’t think I would be this excited,” Grandma admitted.
“How long has it been?”
“A very long time, baby.”
She glanced at Bissau. His face was still pinned to the window.
“I’m not sure about him,” Amber said.
“Don’t worry.” Grandma looked his way and then back at Amber. “This is all new to him. The Outside is probably a wonderful place for him. It was for me.”
“He’s acting so childish!”
“Once we land he will be in control, I’m sure. It’s the part of the journey that he is more than familiar with,” Grandma assured her.
The plane jerked as the landing gear touched the tarmac. It cruised for a few minutes then halted near the terminal. Amber watched the stair car approaching and her stomach tightened.
“Okay, here we go!” she whispered.
Bissau led them down the stairs. Amber followed, hesitating at the bottom. She looked about then placed her foot on African soil. Her head spun as a bright flash blinded her. She stumbled and someone grabbed her before she fell to the ground. She opened her eyes to a smiling female face.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” The woman kept grinning as she helped Amber steady.
Grandma came to her side. “Father chose a good man, just like I said. Thank you, Bissau.”
Amber froze. She looked at Grandma then back at the woman helping her stand. She looked around her. Bissau was nowhere to be seen. But this woman...
“I can help you to the terminal, Amber. We’ll get our bags and be on our way.”
Amber stared into the woman’s eyes. This was not Bissau holding her. This was a woman, but she talked as if she was Bissau. A chill shot up her back and she clinched her teeth. Her mind worked in slow motion toward a conclusion that she didn’t believe even though the truth stood before her smiling.
“Grandma, can you help me?”
“Of course, baby. Bissau, you go ahead and get our bags.”
The woman smiled and trotted away. As soon as Grandma reached her Amber grabbed her tight.
“That’s not Bissau!” she shrieked.
Grandma’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not Bissau! It’s a woman!”
“Slow down, baby girl. Tell me what’s going on.”
“When my foot touched the tarmac, I saw a bright light then got really dizzy. Then she caught me. That’s not Bissau.”
Grandma pulled her away from the passengers. They shuffled toward the terminal but not to baggage claim.
“You say that is not Bissau and that it is a woman?”
“Yes! She talks like a man but it’s a woman. I can see her!”
Grandma frowned. “There was a woman in Marai who could change her shape. She was not Maraibu. Baba wondered how she came to the city but never bothered her because she caused no harm. Bagule probably hired her because she could pass through the Veil. If she took Bissau’s identity she may have done harm to him.”
“What do we do?”
“We’ll stay in Dakar as long as we can,” Grandma decided. “I’m sure the real Bissau will come, but we’ll have to avoid this woman until he arrives.”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
“Then we will go on our own.”
Amber’s mouth became dry and her eyes widened. “We have no idea where to go.”
“I’ll admit my memory is not clear, but I know the way home.”
Amber’s eyes brightened. “I have an idea.”
She grabbed Grandma’s hand and together they ran for the airport entrance, pushing past the horde of men hawking baggage assistance. They went to the curb and Amber flagged down a taxi.
“Where to?” the driver asked in French.
“The American Embassy,” Amber replied.
They climbed in and the driver sped away. Amber looked back to see the woman standing at the curb, staring at the taxi in with an angry look twisting her face. Amber fell back into her seat.
“She saw us, but it doesn’t make a difference. We’ll be safe in the embassy.”
Grandma didn’t look convinced.
“It always works in the movies,” Amber said. “We’re American citizens. We’ll tell them we felt threatened and needed a safe place to rest for a minute.”
“We won’t be safe there, either,” Grandma said. “She’s a shape shifter. If she finds us she’ll assume someone’s identity to get inside.”
“I’ll know who she is.”
“You will but the others won’t. Do you think they’ll believe you?”
Amber folded her arms across her chest and pouted. “If we go back home she’ll leave us alone.”
Grandma looked at her with concern. “Yes she would.”
The taxi became silent. Amber understood Grandma’s statement. They could go home and be safe. Whoever was after them would probably leave them alone. But what would happen to Marai?”
“We’ll have to keep moving until we can find the real Bissau or make it to Marai on our own,” she finally said. “We’ll stay at the Embassy as long as we can then we’ll ...stay with boarders!”
“Boarders? We don’t know anyone in Senegal.”
“We can’t go to any hotels,” Amber explained. “It’s the first place anyone would look. Maybe the Embassy has a list of families that take in tourists. I remember Daddy talking about his summer in Europe. He lived with local people so he could get the full taste of the culture. I think the Embassy may have some information on that. I hope they do.”
“If we do this Bissau will have a hard time finding us, too.”
“We can contact great grandfather and tell him what’s happened. Maybe he can contact Bissau so we can tell him where we are.”
The black and yellow taxi weaved through the narrow street of Dakar. Despite their dire situation Amber leaned against the window, taking in the sites as best she could. The streets were filled with black people rushing to and fro, some dressed casually like her friends in Atlanta while others wearing more traditional garb. The taxi driver meandered through the confusing streets but somehow, she was able to keep her sense of direction. She was changing with every moment that passed; her awareness increasing with each mile traveled.
The taxi finally parked before a large building surrounded by a brick fence. The American flag drooped on a flagpole within the walls; two Marines in battle fatigues flanked the gate.
Amber paid the driver. “Wait for us,” she said.
The taxi driver nodded and lounged in his seat.
“Get your passport out, Grandma,” Amber said.
“I see you’re taking control of things quite well,” Grandma commented.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. Am I being bossy?”
“No, baby. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do.”
They showed their papers to the guards.
“The Consulate Receptionist can help you,” one of the guards said.
They entered the building. The receptionist was a young woman with a short afro and a warm smile.
“Welcome to Senegal,” she said. “How may I help you?”
Grandma ambled to the desk. “Hello. My grandbaby and I were wondering if there was a program for visitors to live with locals during their visit to Senegal.”
The receptionist’s face soured. “Ma’am, the proper procedure is to request a living visit prior to arriving.”
Grandma smiled warmly. “I know, sweetheart, but this was an unexpected side trip. Could you at least check to see if anyone is available? This is her thirteenth birthday present and I want it to be special.”
The woman’s eyes brightened as she looked at Amber. “So you’re a teenager now? Congratulations! Give me a minute; I’ll see what I can do.”
Amber calmed herself as the receptionist’s manicured fingers raced across the keyboard. She stopped and grinned.
“Here’s a family that might be interested,” she said. “The Sonkos. Very friendly people. They own a nice house near the coast. I’ll give them a call.”
Grandma smiled then winked at Amber. “Thank you very much, daughter.”
The woman nodded as she smiled at them.
“If it wasn’t for the passports and the accents I would have taken you both for Senegalese,” she commented.
Amber and Grandma stepped away from the desk while the receptionist called the Sonkos.
“Once we get with the Sonkos we can use their mirror to contact great grandfather,” Amber whispered. “He can contact Bissau and tell him where we are.”
“You don’t think the imposter will find us?”
Amber’s concern finally overtook her emotions. “I don’t know what powers she possesses. I’m hoping she’ll search the hotels first then maybe come here. She’ll find us eventually. I’m praying that Bissau will find us first.”
“Would you ladies like something to drink?” the receptionist called out.
“No thank you,” Amber called back. She and Grandma sat on the bench near the embassy door and patiently waited for the Sonkos. She held Grandma’s hand like she used to when they strolled the woods along the coast, winding through palmettos before reaching the hidden beaches trimmed with sea oats. If someone told her days ago that she would be sitting in Senegal fleeing a shape-shifter as she tried to find a hidden ancient kingdom to select its new king, she would have declared them insane. Grandma’s hand was her anchor. As long as she was with her, everything happening was real.
A dusty black Mercedes rambled up to the embassy entrance, smoke belching from its tailpipe. A tall woman stepped out the passenger side, her dark skin in contrast to the brightly colored dress that hung slightly from her shoulder. A matching wrap adorned her head, a colorful collage that brought out her glowing smile. She swaggered to the embassy entrance.
“Bon jour!” She waved vigorously at the receptionist then aimed her enthusiasm at Amber and Grandma. Amber could see immediately that this woman was a kind soul. She didn’t need her abilities to determine it.
“Hello, ladies! I am Madame Josephine. I hear you are looking for a place to stay as you experience our wonderful country.”
Amber stood and took Madame Josephine’s hand. “Bon jour, Madame. I’m Amber and this is my grandmother Corliss. You’re beautiful.”
“And you are so kind,” Madame Josephine replied. “Come, come, we can talk on the way to my villa. I want to know all about you. And of course, I will tell you all about me!”
Madame Josephine waved goodbye to the receptionist and the trio hurried to her car. Josephine’s chauffeur jumped from the driver’s side and opened the doors for the ladies. Amber felt some relief; they would have time to relax while they figured out how to continue their journey. The cool air conditioning of the dated German sedan was comforting; Amber leaned back into the leather seats and closed her eyes. Despite the excitement of the Motherland she was exhausted. Apparently, fatigue was the consequence of her new abilities.
“Madame, you have a familiar face to me,” Josephine said to Grandma.
“I doubt very seriously if you know me,” Grandma replied.
Josephine broke into sparking laughter. “No, no I don’t mean that kind of familiar. You look Senegalese. Something tells me your migration from home was very recent.”
“Yes and no,” Grandma replied. “It was and it wasn’t.”
Amber opened her eyes and grinned at Grandma. Josephine looked at them both with a puzzled expression.
“Really? You are a mystery I must solve. Excellent!”
They emerged from the crowded narrow streets to a wide boulevard that ran parallel to the ocean. Majestic villas lined the street opposite the shore. Miss Josephine smiled as they passed the row of lovely homes. The driver turned into a driveway bordered by sand colored walls topped with ceramic pots sprouting beautiful flowers. The ornate garage door before them lifted and the driver pulled inside.
“We’re home!” Josephine announced. “Come, come!”
The driver opened their doors and they followed Josephine into her home.
“This is my palace,” she said. “I’ll take you to your rooms, and then I will show it to you.”
Grandma looked at the steep staircase and took a deep breath.
“That’s a long way up,” she commented.
“Oh, do not worry, Madame,” Josephine replied. “I have a wonderful room downstairs. I have so many and they are seldom used. Sometimes I ask myself why I have such a large house. Then I answer, because I can!”
Amber giggled then covered her mouth in embarrassment. She was too old for giggling. Josephine was such a bubbly woman it was hard not to be in a good mood around her. But the purpose of their visit loomed behind the good feelings. They had to get settled then get to a mirror so they could communicate with her great grandfather.
“I could really use a rest,” Grandma said as he stared at Amber.
“Come, come, I will show you your room.”
Amber and Grandma followed Josephine down the hallway to the room. It was an opulent affair; the gaudy accoutrements anchored by a beautiful king size bed. The pillows and sheets were over the top for Dakar’s climate but they made the statement that Madame Josephine was wealthy.
“It is a little thing, but I think you’ll find it comfortable,” Josephine said.
Grandma looked intimidated. “I think I will.”
“Manifique!” Josephine exclaimed. “Now, little one, I will take you to your room. I’m sure you’ll love it!”
Josephine strode from the room. Amber lingered for a moment.
“I’ll be back soon,” she whispered.
Grandma nodded. “We’ll contact baba then.”
“Amber?” Josephine called out.
Amber hurried to catch up to her patron. “I’m sorry, Madame. I had to make sure Grandma had her medicines.”
A melancholy frown emerged on Josephine’s face. “Ah, the ravages of age. It is sad we cannot avoid them. Time had been kind to me. I’m sure I am probably your mother’s age and look at me. Sometimes I think time has stood still, but then I look at my grown children I realized I will soon be a grandmother. Me! A grandmother!”
She flipped her hand and her smile returned. “I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Now follow me, I want you to see your room!”
Josephine glided up the staircase, Amber close behind. Amber had been polite so far, refusing to let her talents reveal more about Josephine. But the woman’s last statement made her curious so she briefly let her ability tell her more about this gregarious woman. The emotion struck her deep, causing her hesitate on the stairs. Behind Josephine’s joyful exterior was extreme loneliness and sadness. There had been tragedy in her life, more than most people could handle and more than anyone deserved.
“Are you okay, dear?”
Josephine’s worried expression told her that whatever she thought was apparently reflecting on her face.
“Yes Madame. I’m fine. Is this my room?”
Josephine’s brightness returned. “Yes, it is!”
Amber stepped into a room she had only imagined in her dreams. Her parents were far from poor; if anything, they overindulged her. But this room was beyond anything they’d attempted and Amber knew why. It was a tribute to a child that had died too soon. Josephine apparently changed its setting to coincide with the child’s age. By looks of it she would have been the same age as Amber.
“It’s beautiful,” Amber said.
Josephine hugged her. “I’m so glad you like it. It is the best room in the house.”
Amber looked into Josephine’s eyes. “I can tell in means a lot to you.”
Madame Josephine’s smile weakened. “It does, very much.”
As much as she wanted to comfort their temporary savior Amber needed to get to Grandma. She put her bags down quickly.
“Madame, I must see to my Grandma. There are things she can’t do alone.”
“Oh, of course. Go, go!”
Amber hurried down the stairs to Grandma’s room and closed the door. Grandma stood before the opulent mirror, her hands in tight fists.
“Should we do this now?” she asked nervously.
“We have no choice,” Grandma replied. “We need to know what’s happening and my father is the only one who can tell us.”
Amber held up her hand then crept to the door.
“Is everything okay?” Madame Josephine asked through the ebony wood door.
“Yes Madame, everything is fine,” Amber replied. “Thank you so much for allowing us to stay here. My grandmother must perform a few procedures that require privacy.”
“I understand,” Josephine said.
She listened to Madame walk away then turned back to Grandma.
“Okay, go ahead.”
Grandma opened her hands, revealing the white power. She brought her pursed lips close to her palms then hesitated.
“I don’t have much left,” she said.
“We’ll manage,” Amber replied. “I know we will. I feel stronger here.”
Grandma smiled. “You are home, Amber.” She blew the dust into the mirror. The effect occurred much faster than in America or France. The image of her great grandfather appeared instantly and it was not an encouraging sight. He looked frailer than before, his garments almost swallowing him. He looked up at the mirror from his chair, his sunken eyes flickering as he forced a smile.
“My daughters,” he whispered.
Grandma touched the mirror surface. “Baba, what happened?”
His smile grew wider. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I had to do something that drained my power for a time but I will recover. The main concern is for you. Where are you?”
“We’re in Dakar, Senegal,” Amber answered.
Her great grandfather nodded. “Your journey is almost complete but you still have a long way to travel. The situation has changed.”
“Yes, we know...baba,” Amber said. “A woman is chasing us, a shape shifter. She came to us disguised as Bissau. We came to Dakar with her. We were able to get away but she’s searching for us.”
“She is Aisha, a shape-shifter,” great-grandfather said. “Bagule sent her to stop you. Because she is not Maraibu she can travel through the Veil with no restrictions.”
“Where is the real Bissau?” Amber asked.
“He is on his way, I hope,” great grandfather said. “I passed to him much power to aid him. You must stay away from Aisha at all cost. She is capable of dangerous things.”
Grandma grimaced. “That is why...”
He raised his hand. “Don’t worry about me, child. I will recover. The most important thing now is that you and Amber leave Dakar as soon as possible. Aisha will find you if you stay.”
“But where do we go?” Amber asked.
Great grandfather smiled. “Touch the mirror, Amber.”
Amber looked at her grandmother.
“Go ahead, Amby,” she urged.
Amber approached the mirror and placed her hand on the cool glass. Great grandfather sat up then reached out to her. Their palms met and she felt his warmth. It was if they were the same room. She tried to slip her fingers between his and was reminded that it was an image she looked at, nothing more.
“You have the power to come home,” he said. “You have to let go of that last mote of doubt before you fully realize your potential. When you do, the path to Marai will be clear.”
“How do I do that, baba?” she said. The word for father came from her lips easily, as if she’d spoke it all her life.
“It will come,” he said. “The process has already begun.”
Great grandfather took his hand away. Amber stepped away from the mirror with a new energy stirring in her chest. Her eyes widened.
“What did you give me?” she blurted.
Great grandfather smiled. “A little something to start you on your way. You hold more promise than I suspected, Amber. Rest now, both of you. The answers you seek are closer than you expect.”
Great grandfather’s image wavered. He raised his hand for a final goodbye, his appearance replaced by reflection. Amber turned to Grandma, her mind filled with hope and confusion.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Grandma took her hand. “Baba is never wrong, Amby. Do as he says. Go to your room and rest. We’ll let Madame Josephine wait on us for a time which she is so anxious to do. You’ll need a clear mind to think about what we should do next.”
“You’ll have to help me,” Amber said.
“Of course I will, but it’s been a long time since I left Marai. The path I followed may no longer exist.”
“I hope Bissau finds us,” Amber mused.
“Think of him and he will,” Grandma answered.
Grandma kissed her on the cheek. “I’m going to lie down. I suggest you do the same. Madame Josephine doesn’t seem to be the type that will let us rest too long.”
Amber giggled. “No, she doesn’t.”
Amber opened Grandma’s door and met Madame Josephine standing in the hall, a nervous look on her face.
“Everything is perfect, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, Madame. Everything is fine.”
Josephine placed her hand on her chest and exhaled. “Bon. I know that some travelers get sick when they visit other countries.”
Amber gave Madame a reassuring smile. “She’s fine, Madame. She just needs to rest, as I do.”
“Of course, of course! Go to your room and relax. I will let you know when dinner is ready. And I assure you, it will be a feast indeed. Have you ever had Senegalese food?”
“No I haven’t,” Amber replied, trying to keep her apprehension from entering her voice.
Madame Josephine clapped her hands. “Then you are in for a treat. Our food is the best in all of West Africa. If you ask me, it is the best in the world!”
Madame Josephine followed Amber to her room then left once she was certain Amber was comfortable. Amber’s room contained a private bathroom so she was able to slip out of her travel clothes and into her pajamas without leaving. As she washed her face she gazed at her reflection. Five days into her adventure and she was still trying to grasp this new reality. A whole world existed within her normal life and no one suspected it. How could that be? How could her parents live with her every day and not know something was different about her? Worse still, how did she not know?
As she scrubbed her face the necklace grew warm. Soon after she saw something in the mirror. She looked behind her; the door was still closed. Amber peered deeper into the mirror and the image came into focus. It was not the room behind her; it was a busy street filled with pedestrians and cars. It was Paris. She blinked her eyes and the image remained. In fact, it became clearer. How was this happening? She had none of grandmother’s mystical dust. Maybe some had lingered on her clothing, somehow transforming her mirror into a bridge. But this was not her great grandfather’s chambers. She remembers his words then. Was this what he was speaking of? Then she touched her necklace. It was the necklace!
A young, handsome man entered her view, a man whose face was familiar to her.
“Bissau,” she said.
The man stopped and looked about. Amber’s hand flew to her mouth.
The man turned back and forth, staring into the crowd around him. People gave him curious glances as they avoided him.
Amber smiled. This was amazing!
“Bissau,” she said firmly.
Bissau hurried to a café and sat at a vacant table. A waiter appeared and he waved him away.
“Who speaks to me this way? Is this you, Aisha? I swear before the ancestors I will...”
“No, this is not Aisha. This is Amber.”
Bissau sat up straight. “Amber? How...no, that does not matter. Where are you?”
“I’m with Grandma. We are in Dakar, Senegal.”
Bissau stood quickly. “Stay where you are. I am coming!”
“We can’t stay,” Amber replied. “Aisha came with us disguised as you. I was able to see through her façade when we arrived in Dakar. We escaped but she is looking for us.”
“What are you going to do?”
Amber closed her eyes and searched her mind. The answer that came to her wasn’t what she expected, but she accepted it. Her great grandfather told her to trust her thoughts, so she would.
“We are going to Marai,” she said.
Bissau’s eyes went wide. “How can you? You don’t know the way.”
“I’ll find it,” she answered.
“Give me one day,” Bissau said. “I’ll find a way to get to Dakar. Just one more day.”
“I’ll try, Bissau. Baba trusts you, so I will, too. Come quickly.”
Bissau smiled. “I will.”
He ran to the curb and flagged down a taxi. Amber watched him enter the vehicle then it sped away. The mirror image faded and she looked at herself once again. She suddenly felt exhausted, the strain of the day catching up with her. She barely made it to the bed before collapsing into the soft mattress and falling immediately to sleep.
“Wake up. Wake up, child!” Madame Josephine said through the door. “Dinner will be served soon. You don’t want to miss it!”
Madame Josephine’s voice was as startling as an alarm. Amber awoke slurping. She rolled on her back and rubbed her forehead. Her head throbbed. She sat up with her eyes still closed.
“Amber?”
The male voice startled her and her eyes snapped open. Bissau stood in the corner of her room, a smile on his face. Amber covered her mouth as she screamed into her hand. They stared at each other for what seem liked hours, Amber working to control her emotions.
“It’s okay,” he said in heavily accented French. “I assure you I am the real Bissau. Aisha wouldn’t be foolish enough to use the same disguise again. Besides, you could see through it. You know I am who I say I am.”
Amber eased her hand from her mouth. “How did you get here?”
Bissau pointed at the mirror. “It is how I traveled to France as well. Master Jakada shared his talents with me which allows me to travel through the portals. When you contacted me you opened a new path.”
“Amber?” Madame Josephine’s voice cut through her haze.
“I have to eat,” Amber said. “Stay here.”
Bissau smiled. “Where else would I go?”
He lifted his head and sniffed. “It smells good.”
“Are you hungry?”
Bissau rubbed his stomach. “Very.”
“I’ll see if I can sneak something back.” She began to get out the bed then realized she wore only her night gown.
“I have to change,” she said.
Bissau looked puzzled for a moment then his eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”
“Go into the bathroom,” she said.
Confusion twisted Bissau’s face. Amber pointed at the bathroom.
“Ahh!” Bissau went into the bathroom and shut the door. Amber dressed quickly then went downstairs. Madame Josephine and Grandma waited for her, both women smiling at her as she descended.
“You are a princess,” Madame Josephine said.
“Yes she is,” Grandma agreed.
The three of them proceeded to the dining room, an elaborate space with a beautiful and intimate table resting under a pearl white ceiling fan. The man who served as chauffeur now served them as waiter.
“Follow me,” he said. He led them to their seats, and then disappeared into the next room. He returned with bowls of soup which were delicious. Soon afterwards the man returned with bowls containing their meals.
“I didn’t know what you would prefer, so I had my cook prepare a variety.”
Miss Josephine pointed at the first bowl.
“This is yassa, chicken simmered in onion with garlic, mustard, and lemon sauce. It is my favorite.”
She pointed at the next bowl. “This is maafe, seasoned beef cooked with vegetables in a peanut sauce. And this’ – she pointed at the last bowl – is Thiéboudienne. No visit to Senegal is complete without tasting our national meal.”
Miss Josephine returned to her seat. “Bon apetit, mes soeurs!”
Madame Josephine smiled broadly as Amber and Grandma ate their meals.
“You know I have been to America quite a few times,” she said.
“Really?” Amber reluctantly placed her fork down. The food was so delicious she didn’t want to stop eating.
“Yes, dear! I used to visit New York often with my husband. He had an import/export business there. We also have many relatives in the city. It’s the only place in America where you can get decent Senegalese food.”
“I’ve been to New York, too,” Amber answered. “I wish I’d known there were Senegalese restaurants there. I would have asked my parents to take me.”
Josephine clapped her hands. “The food is good, no?”
Grandma looked up from her plate smiling. “Very.”
Josephine raised her hands in praise. “Then I am a satisfied host.”
“Have you ever been to Georgia?” Amber asked.
“Ahh yes, Georgia! I have been to Atlanta. They call it the Black Mecca.”
Amber giggled then quickly covered her mouth. “Yes, some folks call it that.”
“It is a very beautiful city,” Josephine commented. “Very green and the people are friendly. If they had Senegalese food it would be perfect!”
The ladies laughed like old friends. Despite her gaiety Amber could sense Miss Josephine’s sorrow.
“So, what happened to your husband?” she asked.
The light in Josephine’s eyes faded. Grandma cleared her throat for Amber’s attention. Amber looked her way and Grandma barely shook her head. Amber did a slight nod in return.
“My husband fell ill a few years ago and never recovered,” she answered.
“What did he suffer from?” Amber asked.
Miss Josephine placed her hands in her lap, her eyes downcast. “Malaria. We were on a trip to Nigeria when he fell ill. He lingered for a long time.”
“What about your children?”
“They live in America. I visit them sometimes, but they have children of their own. There is little time for mama these days.”
Grandma reached out and touched Josephine’s hand. “Children do not cherish their elders as they should these days,” she said. “It is only when they are about to part when they realized what they truly possess.”
Amber looked into her Grandma’s glistening eyes. She realized that this was a conversation touching them all, not only Miss Josephine. Grandma left home long ago, losing the connection with her parents and now she sat with her while her own parents vacationed without her. Though part of her reason was much more that a selfish whim she realized she was just as guilty as Miss Josephine’s children.
“So, this is why I entertain,” Miss Josephine concluded, her bright smile returning. “If I can’t be of any use to my children, at least I can help people visiting my wonderful country.”
They finished their meals. Amber was handing her plate to the server when she remembered Bissau.
“Miss Josephine, could I have something to take to my room? I tend to get a little hungry during the night and I don’t want to stumble about in an unfamiliar house.”
Miss Josephine pinched her chin. “I usually don’t allow such a thing, but you have been such wonderful guests. I’ll have Bundu prepare something for you.”
Grandma looked at her with narrow eyes and Amber looked back with assurance.
“Thank you, Miss Josephine. Dinner was wonderful.”
“It was,” Grandma agreed.
Amber walked Grandma back to her room.
“What’s going on, child?” she asked.
“Bissau is in my room,” Amber revealed.
She felt Grandma tense. “How did he get there?”
“Through the mirror. I think I summoned him.”
Grandma nodded. “You are coming into your own. Baba was right.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I can’t hide him forever.”
“You don’t have to,” Grandma replied. “With Bissau here we can plan our journey to Marai. It will only be one night.”
Amber frowned. She had a problem with Bissau sleeping in her room.
Grandma gave her a knowing grin.
“Don’t worry, Bissau is not like the boys you know. First of all, he is a man of Marai, an honorable and courteous person. Second, you are his mentor’s great granddaughter. He wouldn’t dare disgrace himself. Third, you’re stronger than you know. You wouldn’t let him.”
Amber’s nervousness wasn’t based on Bissau’s behavior. It was based on her own feelings. Bissau was a handsome boy, and he seemed so sure of himself. Grandma called him a man, and in a way, he was.
“Go upstairs, child,” Grandma urged. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”
Amber took longer than normal making sure Grandma was comfortable.
“Go on, child,” Grandma said. “Bissau is probably starving.”
Amber kissed Grandma’s cheek then left the room. She took her time up the stairs. Bundu waited for her at the room entrance.
“I brought you fruit, water and bread,” he said. “Is there anything else you require?”
“No, thank you Bundu,” she answered.
Bundu nodded. “Have a pleasant night, mademoiselle.”
Amber took the tray and Bundu opened the door. Bissau was nowhere to be seen to her relief. No sooner did she close the door did he emerge from the bathroom.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Amber stammered. “Miss Josephine is a very talkative person.”
Bissau’s eyes widened. “You speak Bambara!”
Amber hadn’t notice the change. Apparently her gift adjusted involuntarily.
“I guess I do.”
She extended the tray to Bissau. He took the tray and sat on the edge of the bed, eating gingerly despite his hunger. Amber sat in the chair before the vanity, watching him as he ate. She was a swirl of emotions, some of them unnerving. She wasn’t a wall flower by any means; she’d had a few boyfriends with an emphasis on the boy. But Bissau was different. She stopped her musing and covered her mouth to hide her grin. What was she thinking? She didn’t even know him!
Bissau finished his meal and smiled at her.
“Thank you, Amber.”
She took the tray, their eyes meeting.
“I guess you’ll have to sleep in my room.”
Bissau’s expression turned serious. “I don’t wish to cause you any discomfort. I can go back to Paris and return later.”
“How can you...oh.” They both looked at the mirror.
“No, you can stay here,” Amber finally said.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Bissau said immediately.
Amber didn’t argue. She stripped the sheet from the bed and handed it to Bissau. Afterwards she took her things and retreated into the bathroom.
“There’s a man in my room,” she whispered. “There’s a man in my room!”
She fumbled through her night time ritual, her hands trembling. When she was done she looked at herself and frowned.
“This look ain’t working.”
She shook her head. Her dreams were interfering with her reality, but then again, her reality at the moment was like a dream. She rustled around in her make-up bag until she found her phone. Her fingers flew nimbly across the keypad as she texted Jasmine.
“Girl, you awake?”
Amber sent the text before she remembered the time difference. It was probably early morning in Atlanta.
“I am now,” the return text read. “How’s the beach?”
Amber hesitated before replying. She couldn’t tell her parents where she was. What made her think she could tell Jasmine?
Her fingers hovered for a moment. Shoot, Jasmine was her best friend, her sister by another mother. Her fingertips attacked the keypad.
“I’m in Dakar, Senegal.”
“Where’s that?”
“Africa.”
“Girl, don’t play with me.”
“I’m for real! I’m in Dakar, Senegal and there’s a man in my room.”
For what seemed like forever there was no response. Amber wasn’t surprised. Jasmine probably thought she was crazy. As she was about to put her phone away it chirped.
“Somebody done kidnapped you!”
Amber pinched her lips to keep from laughing out loud.
“Naw! It ain’t like that. I’m with my Grandma. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I get back.”
A shiver ran through her as a dark thought popped in her head. If I get back.
“Who is this man in your room?”
“He’s my protector.”
“Is he fine?”
“Yeah, and he’s cute too but it ain’t about that.”
“It’s always about that.”
“You’re so nasty.”
“Look who’s talking. I’m not in Africa with a man in my room.”
“Girl, you crazy! I’ll hit you back later. Peace!”
“Be careful! Peace!”
Amber shoved her phone back into her bag and inspected herself one last time. She frowned; she wished she looked older. There was too much girl in her face and not enough woman. She took a deep breath and stepped back into her room.
Bissau was sound asleep on the floor. Amber smiled; what was she thinking? She wouldn’t know the first thing to do. Relief and embarrassment took hold and she giggled. It had been a long day and would be an interesting tomorrow. It was time she got to bed.