[2016] Rubbing Stones Page 4

  He stretched his neck and grunted.

  “Rick, I had a thought.”

  “Beginner’s luck.” He smiled and turned over. He pulled her close to him by slipping his hands around her waist. “I wondered when you’d come to your senses.”

  She pulled back gently. “No, Rick, I’m serious.”

  “Me too.” He still sounded groggy. “I was just dreaming about this beautiful woman waking me up and—”

  Jane stared at him.

  Rick let her go. He leaned up on one elbow and faced her.

  “Okay, what?”

  “Michael needs to be exposed to something outside his little world—something more than his too-cute, fickle girlfriend, his petty soccer rivalries, his smart aleck friends, his northern California disdain.”

  “Juvie should do that.”

  “No, I mean something bigger.” She looked at Rick intently. “Something that makes him feel good about himself, gives him purpose.”

  “We’re all looking for that. And you found the answer? I’m all ears.”

  “Rick, stop joking. I’m worried about him.”

  “Sorry.” He stroked her leg. “Go ahead.”

  “Do you remember Sam Mtubu’s project in Botswana?”

  He paused, waiting for her to continue.

  She didn’t.

  “You want to take the boys to Africa to help build a clinic?” He chuckled, then saw her expression and fell back on his pillow. “Oh, Christ, you’re serious.”

  CHAPTER 4

  They’d been driving for hours by the time Japera and Thabani reached the tar road that would take them out of Botswana. They decided to stop in Kasane for lunch, but they’d have to make it quick—they needed to cross into Zimbabwe before the border closed at 6:00 p.m. Now Katura could stretch her legs and move her ankles in circles, something she’d been aching to do but was afraid they’d notice.

  Japera had parked directly in front of the roadside café in order to watch the jeep. Katura knew she had to stay low in the back so she wouldn’t be seen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until they were back in the front seat that she realized how stiff her neck and shoulders were also. Too late. All she could do now was try to ignore it.

  “Hey, want some water?” Thabani said, after they’d been driving for an hour in silence. “I’ve got a jug in the back.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand reach around and grab the container. She held her breath. He was within inches of her shoulder. The jeep swerved suddenly—even the main roads were pocked with potholes—and for a second his fingers brushed against her.

  “Whoa!”

  “Sorry, didn’t see it.”

  “Jeez, I turn around for a minute and—look out for that one.” The jeep swerved to the right, and the water container rolled against Katura’s side. It was cold and wet. She sucked in her stomach, hoping it would roll back the other way. It didn’t.

  “Slow down, the border stop is just around that turn,” Thabani said. “We’ll get the water when we pull over.”

  Katura tried to inch away from the container—silently, by imperceptible degrees. The car was slowing to a stop; she panicked and pulled away too quickly. The heavy cylinder rolled off her body and hit the bed of the jeep with a loud thump. She saw Thabani’s shoulder jerk around. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut. Suddenly she heard a loud rapping on the jeep window.

  “We need to see your papers.” She opened her eyes to see a flashlight shining through the tinted windows on the driver’s side. Someone—her brother or cousin, she couldn’t tell which—was rummaging through the glove compartment. The doors flew open, the hinges creaking under the sudden strain.

  “Get out now!” a raspy voice yelled.

  “I was just getting our papers,” Japera said. She heard him clambering out of the jeep. “No problem here, man. Our papers are in the glove compartment. All’s good.”

  Katura took tiny breaths. She didn’t want the blanket that covered her to move enough to be noticed.

  “You two stand over there.” The man’s voice was now muffled.

  It sounded like someone was emptying things from the glove compartment onto the front seat. Very slowly, she cocked her head at an angle that tented the blanket, allowing her left eye a direct view between the bucket seats. She caught the profile of a young man and recognized the faded green collar of the Botswana border patrol uniform. He leafed through papers, handing several to someone standing behind him, throwing the rest on the floor of the jeep. He climbed out to kneel down and look under the seat. He brought out an empty soda can, looked inside, then threw it, too, on the floor. She took in a deep gulp of air when the jeep door was slammed shut—not aware until that moment that she’d been holding her breath.

  Suddenly the rear hatch door swung open. There was a burst of laughter as she felt someone grab her toes. It was the young officer.

  “Hey, chief, check this out. We got another one.” She slid backwards as he pulled her out of the jeep. She struggled, unsuccessfully, to free her legs from his grip. The water jug and Japera’s bag came tumbling out with her, crashing on the ground. “And a feisty one, at that.”

  The older officer glanced at Katura, grabbed the bag, and searched the contents. He threw it back into the jeep.

  “I’ll find out why they’re hiding her,” he said. “You finish searching the back.”

  “They didn’t know I was under there.” Katura finally twisted her way to freedom from the young officer’s grip. She started to move toward her brother but halted when the man in charge rested his hand on his weapon.

  “She can’t go with us.” Thabani said as she approached with her imposing escort.

  Her cousin turned to her. “What were you thinking, stupid girl? You were just going to sail right through the border patrol without a problem?”

  “I want to make sure you don’t lose another one of my brothers,” she said. Japera flinched. Had she revealed too much? But the guards didn’t seem to be listening to her.

  Thabani laughed and spit on the ground. “We have important work to do, girl—we don’t need children getting in the way.” He faced the officer. “Forget the search, we’re turning back.”

  “Important work? Right.” Katura turned to the officer. “My brother and cousin think they can go see Vic Falls without me. It’s a short school break and we don’t have the time to go back. I’m going.”

  Japera grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her close to him. “She’ll be joining us. She’s always wanted to see the falls and she’s right, we don’t have much time.” He turned to the officer in charge. “Are we free to continue on, sir?”

  “Not yet,” the man said. “It’s their turn.” The officer turned toward three young men off in the distance. They wore dark navy uniforms and proceeded together, stepping over the chain that blocked the jeep on the roadway.

  “You ZANU?” asked the one who approached them first.

  “We’re from Botswana, just visiting.” Japera smiled and handed the sergeant the papers the Botswana patrolman had just given back to him. The man stared at Japera, then yelled over to the two other policemen, who’d headed for the jeep.

  “I don’t think he answered my question, boys, what do you think?” The two stopped walking.

  “No, sir,” Japera said quickly. “We have no political affiliations in your country.” In the distance to her right Katura saw the Botswana police retreat inside a nearby building.

  The man stared a few moments longer. He looked down at the papers, then nodded for the other two to continue. Katura thought they looked barely older than her. They opened the hatchback, threw the contents onto the road, and started feeling around the edges of the carpet. Then one of the policemen reached to the sheath on his belt and took out a long hunting knife.

  “Hey, that’s my father’s jeep!” Katura ran over to them. “You better not rip anything.”

  The officer with the knife glanced briefly at her. “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll make it nice a
nd neat for your daddy.” He snorted and made a long jagged cut down the middle of the trunk, then slashed the carpet horizontally.

  His partner was standing next to Katura, staring at her face. “Hey, she can’t be MDC, they don’t make them this cute.” The man with the knife lifted the carpet and felt under the frame before closing it back up and turning to look at Katura.

  “I don’t know, Matan, maybe she is MDC, maybe we better just take her in to make sure.”

  Katura glanced over at Japera, who was busy reviewing the papers with the officer in charge. He hadn’t noticed she had walked over to the jeep. She could call out to him, but that would raise the stakes.

  Thabani walked over. He shot her a disapproving look and stubbed out the cigarette he was holding. He extended his hand to the young cop.

  “Matan? Aren’t you Rudo’s brother?”

  The cop searched Thabani’s face. “Do I know you?”

  “We met once on the river. Your brother and I are colleagues, work for competing companies, but you know the river. One day competitors, the next co-workers. Great rafter, Rudo.” He brought his hand, unshaken, back to his side.

  “And your name is…?” The cop glanced over at his partner who had finished up and was looking their way. “Which company?”

  “Oh, I’m just taking some time off to spend with my family, you know.” He nodded at Katura. “Your brother busy? Getting a lot of work these days?”

  The cop eyed the lineup of cars that had formed behind the jeep. Someone was honking. “He’s busy enough.”

  “You know if he’s looking for a new safety?”

  “How would I know?” The sergeant had finished with Japera’s paperwork and was walking briskly toward them. The young cop looked nervous. “Look, you move on now, we got a lot of cars to check.”

  Thabani climbed into the passenger side and called out, “Hey, tell Rudo hello for me, tell him I’ll come by and see if he needs some help.”

  The cop nodded as he headed to the next search, then turned back abruptly. “What was your name again?” But Thabani had already closed the door, and Japera was pulling out onto the road.

  Katura rode for the next hour in silence, not wanting to push anything with her cousin. It was getting dark, and Thabani stared out the car window intently, as if Japera needed his eyes to help him drive. It gave Thabani an excuse for not talking to her. He might be familiar with the roads, but she wasn’t sure he was useful for much else. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but she pretty much blamed him for Tafadzwa’s troubles anyway.

  “I left Mom a note.” She finally broke the silence. “She’ll understand. She’d have done the same, that’s what I told her.”

  Japera laughed. “Mom? No, Katura. You’re more like Dad, bull-headed and determined. But Mom’ll still understand. She’ll kill you, but she’ll understand.”

  “I’ll stay with the car, you two go in,” Thabani said.

  Japera had just pulled into a parking space across from the police station. Japera frowned but he said nothing.

  “Don’t want any more trouble happening to your dad’s jeep.”

  “People vandalize cars right outside the police station?” Katura didn’t like his lame excuses. Not that she wanted Thabani to join them. She found herself distracted by him and didn’t like it. She was only half interested in why he seemed to be acting so oddly. They had their own troubles; she wasn’t eager to add his to the list.

  He looked at her and said, “Japera can handle the details, you can try to look sweet and innocent enough to pull for their sympathies. I know it’ll be a stretch, but maybe if you kept your mouth shut—”

  “Let’s go, Katura.” Japera left the jeep, slamming the door hard behind him.

  The anteroom was dimly lit by the flickering overhead lights. Empty chairs, mismatched small tables, and dirty ashtrays were scattered around the periphery. They walked across the tiled floor and up to the front counter. It was enclosed behind glass with a small window to one side. A thin man who looked to be in his mid-sixties, dressed in a worn navy blue uniform, sat behind the glass at the other end of the counter. He was doing paperwork and hadn’t looked up when they walked in. Japera cleared his throat loudly, twice. After waiting several minutes, he rapped on the window.

  “I know you’re there!” the man yelled. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” It was at least ten minutes before he finally put down his pen and eyed them carefully. He rolled his desk chair down the counter to where the window had been cut in the barrier and opened the latch. “Yes?”

  “We’re here to get our brother, sir. There’s been a mistake in his arrest.”

  “A mistake, is there?” The man laughed. “You’d be amazed at how often that happens around here.” He smiled broadly and shook his head. “So often that we have an officer here just to take care of such matters.” He leaned back in the swivel chair and called over his shoulder, “Sergeant, another one for you.”

  Katura had been standing next to her brother but took a half-step back when the sergeant in charge came out from the back room. He was much larger than the first, might even have been the largest man she’d ever seen. The muscles on his arms seemed to bulge unnaturally, and the buttons on his shirt struggled to contain his chest.

  “What’s the problem?” His eyes were at half-mast and his tongue moved around his mouth, as if cleaning his teeth from his last meal.

  “Our brother was accidentally arrested—”

  “Accidentally?” The sergeant’s mouth widened into a grin. “How does a guy get arrested accidentally?” He turned to the older cop. “Listen up, this should be good.”

  Japera’s face had stiffened. “Sir, my brother is not a member of the MDC, but he had attended a rally—”

  “Not MDC but attended an MDC rally?” the sergeant said. “Sounds like he got arrested for stupidity.” He stroked his chin. “Or maybe he’s a spy for ZANU and we arrested one of our own? Maybe we’re the stupid ones, is that what you’re saying?”

  The older cop laughed, got a nod of approval from the sergeant, then returned to his paperwork.

  “No, sir, he’s not ZANU, either. We’re from Botswana. He was just visiting here to learn to raft the river from our cousin.”

  “So why have we not heard from the Botswana embassy, eh?”

  Katura winced. As recent immigrants, her family stood on shaky ground. Japera faltered momentarily and she stepped forward.

  “We didn’t want to bother you with the embassy officials, sir,” she said. “Not for such a small matter. You see, our brother just went down to see what all the noise was about and was confused for MDC. An easy mistake, I’m sure. We don’t want to take up any more of your time, so if we could just take our brother back to Botswana, you wouldn’t have to bother with him and our mother won’t have to be so worried.”

  The sergeant looked at Katura as if aware of her presence for the first time. He grabbed a ledger book from under the counter and flipped open the cover.

  “What is your brother’s name, little miss?”

  “Tafadzwa, sir. Tafadzwa Masaku.” She stood straight, proud to be part of the negotiation. The sergeant slammed the book shut. Katura couldn’t tell who spoke first. Both cops’ voices soon got very loud. The older man was yelling something about a captain he seemed to think they should know. The sergeant said Tafadzwa was not supposed to have any family around. Not supposed to? She couldn’t quite follow either one, since they both talked at the same time. Now the older cop was pointing to a framed picture of a distinguished-looking officer on the wall behind him. She noticed that under the officer’s name, which she couldn’t read, there were the dates of his birth and death.

  “Our brother had nothing to do with your captain,” Japera said, but the two cops were listening only to each other.

  Finally, the sergeant grabbed the older man’s shoulder. He stopped yelling but muttered something about “the finest officer this force has ever seen,” before conceding to his superior and heading i
nto the back room.

  The sergeant turned to Japera, without a trace of the agitation of just moments before. He rested his large hands against the inside counter and spoke slowly.

  “Tafadzwa Masaku is not only a known member of the MDC, he killed the captain of our police force at that rally. He will pay the price.” His dark brown eyes bored into Japera’s. “I don’t know who you are, maybe a nosy journalist trying to get information, but we know he has no family here.”

  “You’ve got the wrong guy.” Despite herself, Katura began to tear up. “You know Tafadzwa has family, our cousin was here last week asking about him.”

  The sergeant looked down at Katura, not unkindly. “No, dear, until now there has been no one looking for this man. If anyone had even asked about him, I would know.” He closed the window slowly, but reopened it immediately and looked only at Japera. “You see, if this man had family, they too would be in danger because Captain Kagona was greatly loved by his men here. So it’s a lucky thing Tafadzwa Masaku,” he pronounced it slowly, distinctly, “has no family.”

  Japera stood speechless in front of the counter for a moment. He took one step back, and the sergeant grinned.

  “But wait,” the sergeant said, “maybe I’m wrong. Who did you say you were? His brother?”

  Katura sucked in a deep breath and was about to speak when Japera grabbed her hand.

  “No,” he said softly, “not family, just inquiring about the arrest.”

  “What was that?” The sergeant leaned his ear toward the window.

  She was sure Japera’s words had been heard. He repeated them louder as he continued to move backward toward the entry, gripping Katura’s hand. He turned with her at the door and they darted out of the building.

  “He’s lying,” Katura said. The tears that had just started to form in the station were now flowing freely down both cheeks.

  “Mostly.” Japera stood at the top of the concrete steps that led down to the street. “But not about everything.” Their jeep sat unattended on the dirt lot where Thabani had parked it. Japera looked up and down the street, but their cousin was nowhere in sight.