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  Over and over, she repeated, “Please…please…please God…make it stop…please stop…you…sonofabitch…hurts so much!”

  I didn’t mean to, but I chuckled softly because it reminded me of the first time I heard Pastor Limerick curse when he accidentally slammed his car door on his finger. When he saw the horror on my face, he angrily said he’s only human, and no one’s perfect, while shaking the hell out of his swelling finger.

  Upon recent observation from all the times we played House of Oware, I was sure that Lamp didn’t believe in God. Auntie Yajna once told me that when people have nowhere else to go for mercy, they come crawling to God with fair-weather sincerity.

  Her eyes grew dark like embers of wood swallowed up by a gluttonous high tide. I knew she was thinking of Jinni, and how her parents and she can no longer enjoy life the way they did as a family. I never said a word but continued to soothe Lamp by rubbing her back and placing a cool rag on the nape of her neck. After a few long minutes, and her breathing quieted, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes blinked like a child fighting their best to stay up after bedtime but losing the battle with every passing second.

  Lamp groaned and sweat streamed down her forehead when she slowly turned her head toward me.

  “I’m…dying…”

  “Stop saying that. You’re not going anywhere, but once you recover, you’ll be stronger than ever. Maybe as strong as me.”

  She coughed, and said, “You ain’t shit.”

  I chuckled and raked my hand through her head. “I know, Lamp. I know,” I said, and placed the back of my hand on her forehead. “Come on. Let’s get you in the bed.”

  There was a linen closet beside the bathroom, stocked with big white fluffy towels and wash clothes. I wrapped a towel around her and helped her to the twin bed. I pulled the covers back and eased her down onto the mattress. She didn’t want to lie down. Instead, she sat up and rocked back in forth in bed.

  “My stomach…” she said, grasping it with her hands.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. “Do you think you can eat something?”

  “There’s food?”

  I nodded. “Plenty.”

  She shook her head and curled up on the bed in a fetus position. “Not unless you want me to hurl again.”

  “Okay. You can eat later when your appetite comes back.”

  “The pillows hurt,” she said, and shoved them onto the floor.

  Tossing and turning, she couldn’t get comfortable.

  “Every muscle in my body aches,” she complained. “Feels like a knife’s crammed into my rib cage.”

  I crawled up on the bed next to her, leaning my back on the headboard. She eased onto my lap, placing her hand beneath her head. She brought her knees up toward her stomach and started sobbing.

  “It hurts so bad,” she said.

  I started singing the song my father used to sing to me, first in English, and then in the Ga language.

  “Baby, don’t cry,

  Where has your mother gone?

  She’s gone to the farm.

  What did she leave for you?

  Yaa yaa wushi-o!

  At first, Lamp’s tearful eyes found mine, her neck twisted in an uncomfortable position, and then she smiled, nestling her head into my lap. That made me smile. I continued to rake my hand through her hair.

  When I finished the song, she asked, “Did you lose your parents when you were young?”

  “Yeah,” I said, and my whole body shuddered.

  “How did they die?”

  I inhaled and blew out a hard sigh. “Fire. They both burned in a fire.”

  Lamp sat up. “Omigod.”

  I pushed her head back into my lap with a gentle touch.

  “I barely remember it all. I was so small, like seven years old. Sometimes, parts of it come in my dreams like pieces of a puzzle.”

  “So you were with them? In the fire?”

  “Yep. We were on my father’s yacht when the fire started. To this day, the police aren’t sure what started the fire. All I remember was that I woke up in my bed on the yacht, coughing, and someone, I think it was my father, covered my face with a blanket to protect me from the fire. He ran through the flames and got me to safety. I passed out as soon as he got me on the pier. When I woke up in the hospital, a nurse reluctantly told me that they didn’t survive the fire.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lamp said, shaking her head.

  I didn’t want to talk about my parents anymore, so I shifted the conversation to her. “So what about your parents? What do they do?”

  She chuckled. “Nothing. They’re both recently retired and have renewed their vows every year since. They were so surprised when mom got pregnant with…”

  We sat in silence for a long while. I’d brought so much tragedy to Lamp.

  “I’m sorry, Examiner,” she said.

  “Wha—what?”

  “Here I am crying over my sister’s death like I’m the only one in the world whose faced a horrific experience when you had both of your parents taken away from you. I don’t know what I would have done if Mom and Dad left me.”

  I was speechless.

  “And from what it sounds like over the years,” she said, “You had a terrible time with all of your foster homes.”

  “The worst. Hey, look. Let me get you a blood snack,” I said, changing the subject. I got up and went out to the refrigerator. “I’ll just set it by your bed. It will make you stronger. Trust me, you’ll feel one hundred percent better.”

  The entire top row was stocked with blood bags, the kind blood banks used to store for patient emergencies and transfusions. Lamp let out an abrupt yell. I shut the refrigerator door and went over to her. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she moaned loudly, curling back into a fetus position.

  “I just want to stop crying,” she said. “I want the pain to stop.”

  She covered her head with her arms, and I slipped the pillow she tossed on the floor back under her head. After a few minutes, she started dozing off, but something she said was eating at me.

  Lamp received a temporal transmission.

  “I’m getting a call,” she said, and sat up.

  Transmissions were being jammed. Maybe they’re just poor because we’re out in the mountainous area.

  “Lamp here,” she said, her eyes full of curiosity. “Thomas! Yes, thank you for getting back to me. Hold on one sec, will you, sir.”

  She put him on mute, and said to me, “I’m going to do a three-way so you can hear. Don’t say anything.”

  The call came in before I finished nodding.

  “Sorry, Thomas. I just had to turn off the stove. Go ahead.”

  “Meredith told me not to call, but she went over to her sister’s and this has been gnawing at me for years, and I have to tell somebody.”

  “What’s that, sir?” Lamp said.

  “Frankie wasn’t alone in that water plant when the GAF found that poor girl’s body.”

  “I’m listening,” Lamp said.

  “Yeah, well you better, because I think she’s the reason Frankie’s got in so much trouble over the years. She was there at the plant, too.”

  “Are you saying that she murdered that girl?”

  “Hell naw. Why would I say a thing like that? That would implicate my child. You think I’m stupid?”

  “No, sir. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just shut your pie hole for a minute and listen.”

  “You got it,” Lamp said.

  “That girl, Cadence was her name. She and a couple of other girls, I think. They were trying to get Frankie to set up a meeting with one of his bosses at the fishing dock to meet with them.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “Not really sure, but I know Frankie was always talking about joining the resistance, and shit like that. I said, ‘Frankie, stay out of it! ’cause all that kind of talk no matter which side you were on, ending up turning the cause into terr
orism’ but no one ever listens to me.”

  “You may be right.”

  “Damn skippy, I’m right. I think they were trying to get back at the sonsofbitches who were responsible for trafficking all those children. And now, after I hear what happened tonight. I think Frankie had something to do with it—not answering my calls, nor returning my messages—I’m afraid something happened to her. Promise me you’ll find her. I just want her to be safe. I don’t know how I’ll live if she’s not around.”

  “Sir, we’ll do our best.”

  “You’ve got to do better than that. Your best hasn’t done crap but allow corruption to be as common as the cold.”

  “Do you have any idea of where Frankie hangs out?”

  “Yeah, after work there’s this bar, Cadence works at, Kings’ Shelter. Yeah, that’s it. I do believe that’s the one.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Beats me, but I don’t know if this helps but Frankie says that Cadence loves dragons, and always has them around her. I figure she’s talking about one of those punk street gangs.”

  “We’ll find that place and bring your daughter home,” Lamp said.

  “Oh, Jesus. Will you?”

  “Yes, sir. You have my word.”

  I looked at Lamp like she was crazy. You never make promises like that. More times than none, it set up the family for a huge disappointment.

  “If Frankie’s there when we find her,” Lamp continued. “We’ll bring her back.”

  “God bless you, child…Bye, now.”

  “Goodbye, sir.”

  “And thanks,” he said.

  “Sure thing,” Lamp said, ending the transmission.

  “Well there you have it,” I said. “Dad knows where the bar is.”

  “We still don’t have any concrete proof that Frankie is the one who released the retcon virus. My sister thought someone was trying to kill her, but I still don’t see how this connects.”

  I scratched my head. “Was Jinni on any social networking sites?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “We need to know who her friends were. If we’re lucky, we may also find threatening posts or something that could give us a better lead.”

  A little time passed before we spoke. A pack of dholes yipped and howled in the distance. I racked my brain, trying to put all the pieces together. I knew that she was still suffering, and I placed my hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off. Her breathing seemed like such a laboring task.

  She muttered. “You changed my life, forever, Xo.”

  Having had no more energy to say anything else, her tears spoke for her. Lamp brought her knees up to her face, arms covering her head, and rocked. I said nothing, but she let me hold her. In my arms, she bawled and shivered until the chills and fever died. While she trembled in my arms, I wondered if I would ever make it up to her.

  Even though I’d just met her face-to-face, I’d known her most of my life playing beside her as a partner in the House of Oware game. She would hold a grudge against me, forever. That much I knew. In just a matter of hours, my life had gone from bad to worse.

  All I wanted to do was be significant in someone’s life; to matter. I wanted to prove to the world that I had something to offer, but all I did was prove why I didn’t belong.

  17

  01010100 01100001 01110100 01110101

  I hadn’t realized that I was asleep until Lamp’s snoring awakened me. I wanted to check on my father. The cabin was hot and unbearable. Before I went into his bedroom, I went around the house and opened all of the windows. There wasn’t much light in the room but enough moonlight for me to see.

  Dad was fast asleep. His head wasn’t warm, and his breathing was normal. I pulled the quilt from under him and covered his body. I just sat there watching him sleep. It was great having him back. For years, all I ever wanted was to have another chance with him, to be a family again. I had many questions to ask him and couldn’t wait for him to be fully rested.

  After a while, I got in the bed and lay beside him, putting my head on his chest like I used to do when I was a child. His chest moved up and down and I listened to his heartbeat. We had many wonderful times as a family. I started nodding off to sleep and sat up when I heard claws scratching at the front door.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” I said, and hurried to the front door. “I know you dholes are highly intelligent, but today is not the day you figure out how to turn a doorknob.”

  I double-checked the front door to make sure I locked it. It was.

  “Damn, it’s hot,” I said, wiping the sweat from my face. My clothes were drenched, and I felt sticky.

  It seemed the cabin was getting hotter by the moment, even though it had to be close to midnight. I decided the only way I was going to cool off was to take a cold shower.

  Dad’s bedroom had a bathroom, but since it was best to let him get some get some much-deserved rest, I thought it best to take a shower in the other bedroom. Besides, Lamp was snoring so loud, I doubt the running of the shower would disturb her.

  I headed back to that room, and paranoia from having the witch dogs right outside, made me check the doors again to make sure they were locked. Slipping off my boots, I wiggled and squirmed until I slipped my jeans down my hips, stepped out of my panties and unlatched my bra, letting everything fall to the floor.

  I went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower, and wouldn’t you know had to pee all of a sudden, so I plopped down onto the toilet. The bathroom was as plain as it could be: chalk-colored walls, white tiled ceramic floors, and the only thing that had a little pizazz to it was the pink floral shower curtain.

  Shoot!

  I’d forgotten to get a washcloth and towel from the linen closet. Glancing up and behind me, I found that there was a set of spotless white towels and washcloths. As I remember, Dad always was meticulous. I appreciated a man like that.

  There were only a few sheets of toilet paper left, but it did the job, and I got up, flushing the toilet. Glancing in the mirror at my nakedness, it exposed a body full of nicks, cuts, and bruises,

  I checked the water and stepped in, sliding the shower curtain closed. It seemed wrong to be taking a shower. The world was in full chaos, and all I could think of was personal hygiene. Grabbing the washcloth from the shower rack, I picked up the bar of soap that sat in the dish awaiting its first use and made the rag sudsy. There was a travel size shampoo fighting for space in that soap dish too. It slid over a little when I picked up the soap.

  Letting the water run in my face, I washed my chest, and stomach, thinking, I can’t be too hard on myself. Frankie did this! She gave us all the warnings. But who is she, really? And how does she connect with Jinni? They are the same age. Maybe they knew each other.

  What was a thirteen-year-old-girl doing in that part of the town? She was too young to drive. How did she get there? It was strange Kofi was over there, too. He said he was working on a case, but I didn’t believe him. Aw, I’m not making any sense. I’m tired. Things will make more sense after I get some rest. When I wake up, I’ll check on Dad, and try to reach Kofi and Auntie Yajna.

  The water felt good. Real good. So wonderful that I wanted to lose myself in it and forget all my problems. Wouldn't it be great to just wash them away like dirt swirling down into the drain that led to an abyss, never to be seen or thought of, again? I wanted to stay in that shower forever. A loud noise clapped and gave me a start. I hadn’t realized that it was the bottle of shampoo. The sound was so jarring it triggered my memory of watching all those people in Liati Wote die.

  People were screaming for help all around me, and I did nothing. I was in the eye of a genocidal storm like a helpless lamb, watching my brothers and sisters fall to the ground and convulse. My thoughts ran wild like a rabid beast in a field full of injured prey.

  Guns don’t kill! People do! Don’t spit on the rich and powerful. Spit on the weak and lazy. Deploy a virus that not only kills the mind, but it kills the spir
it. It not only destroys the body, it destroys everybody. Humanity. Yes! Fire upon them. Fire! Fire!

  The water suddenly got hot, becoming liquid flames, oozing lava on my skin.

  Fire! Fire! I couldn’t stop the flow of liquid flames because I was a part of the ocean (we are the lamb) and the yacht was on fire.

  “Daddy!” I screamed. “Daddy, Daddy, help! The fire!”

  I heard my mother call him, too. We were both calling him, until she heard me and told him to, “Go save our baby! Kulo! Go save our baby!”

  Why won’t the smoke stop burning my eyes? I can’t see! I don’t want to see, but I still looked out of the cubby hole of my room. The water outside was so red. Why was it red? Was that blood? An ocean of blood? There’s so much red! So much red! We are lambs but our wool is not white. Our wool is red. Blood red. The death of the children is on our hands.

  Mom and Dad’s face emerged from the water. Their faces were badly burned, and their lips were blackened strips of skin, hanging off of their faces like used fly strips. I wanted to stop looking, to turn away—but they kept calling me.

  “Feeni! Feeni!” they said, calling out to me.

  I wanted to answer, but in my mind, I held Lamp’s sister in my arms. Her face was deformed, crushed in from the weight of the car rolling over her head. Mom and Dad called me, to be with them, to be one happy family again, but I didn’t deserve happiness. I deserved eternal torment. What could I say? There was nothing to say. I killed her. I killed Lamp’s sister.

  I don’t even know her name. I don’t want to know her name. Knowing her name makes it even more personal. I was reckless and got distracted. All it took was a millisecond of distraction and the insides of his brain were spilling onto the road.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

  Jinni was in my arms. That was her name. Damn, why did I remember? Now, it’s personal. (Well, that’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into).

  Flames.

  So hot, yet so cold. Cold like an emotionless lover. Cold like the last breath of someone trapped under an avalanche. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing slow. No slower. Slower! Not breathing. Hold me, Dad. Cover my face. No, don’t smother me. I can’t breathe. Stop. Stop. Barely breathing. Dying. So young. So smart.