African Detour

This is a short story I wrote as an exercise to practice a third person limited point of view. My daughter says it's "cute" ...

African Detour

Emmy thinks that maybe Mum and Dad are cross. Dad is holding the steering wheel very tightly and Mum is frowning, that deep furrowed frown that she gets sometimes, especially when baby Daniel is crying. But he’s not crying now; he’s sleeping in his carseat, all strapped in, and even though his face is redder than usual he looks all right to her. She likes him better when he’s sleeping; he can’t take her dollies and shove them into his mouth, or pull the clothes off. Mum even took away her baby dolly’s best little dress because it had buttons on it. He might suck them off, she said, and choke! She wouldn’t want him to choke, would she?

Of course not. She doesn’t want baby Daniel to choke. But she would like him to be better so he will stop crying so much and ruining their holiday. That’s what Dad said, that Daniel being sick is ruining their holiday. That’s why they had to leave the nice place they were staying, where there were pony rides and cartoons on the TV in the hotel room. They were going to the nearest big town to find a doctor for him, because it’s been two days of this high fever, Mom says, and she’s worried.

But Dad must have taken a wrong turn because now they are lost. Mum says it like a bad word: lost. She keeps taking out her phone and frowning at it, but it doesn’t do any good. There are maps on Mum and Dad’s phones, but they aren’t working now. Emmy isn’t sure why, but she thinks it’s because they are in Lesotho. The maps on the phones don’t work when they are driving in Lesotho. She takes out her own phone – it’s plastic and the buttons don’t do anything, but she pretends they do. She takes a photo of sleeping Daniel on her phone. Click! She says, pointing it at him just like Mum does.

It’s getting dark. She was hungry, but Mum gave her some raisins and a cheesy triangle. She would rather be having proper supper but there’s nowhere to have it here. It’s very bumpy driving on this road, and she holds her baby dolly tightly in her arms. Don’t worry, she whispers to her baby. We’ll be there soon.

The road is getting bumpier. Daniel is still sleeping but Mum keeps turning around in her seat and leaning over to him to feel his forehead. Last time she did that she shook her head and put her hand over her mouth. Oh Gareth, she said to Dad, and Dad put his hand on her knee. Mum always says Oh Gareth like that when she’s worried, or cross, or happy.

Emmy drifts off for a bit and when she opens her eyes the car has stopped. It’s properly dark now, and she can hear voices. Mum and Dad are not in the car; they have got out and they are talking to some people outside, Lesotho people. They speak differently here. Sometimes she can’t understand them at all. She peers out of the window and she can see two people with blankets around them. Mum told her about that – people in Lesotho wear blankets instead of jerseys and jackets.

Mum and Dad are talking too and she hears Oh Gareth again. Now it sounds as if Mum is crying. She doesn’t like that. When Mum cries she feels all strange and she doesn’t like it. She wants to cry too. The Lesotho people are talking loudly, and now one has opened the car door, letting in a blast of cold air, and is looking in at Daniel who has woken up. It is a lady with a round face, dark skin and a cloth on her head. She peers at Daniel and then over at Emmy. Emmy was about to cry too, but the lady smiles a big funny smile at her and she decides she doesn’t need to after all.

Then Daddy is unbuckling her seatbelt and lifting her out of the car, and she puts her head on his shoulder, shy to look at all the Lesotho people, cuddling her baby dolly close to her between Dad’s warm body and hers. It’s very cold outside, much colder than home. It’s because we are in the mountains, Dad had told her before. He had said then that there might be snow but she hasn’t seen any yet.

Dad carries her to a little house. It really is very little, only one room inside, and the only lights are some candles that one of the men in the blankets put there. Mum follows with Daniel in his carseat. He is crying now, but softly, not like his usual crying at all. Mum sits down on the little bed against the wall and takes him out. He’s burning up, Gareth, she says. He’s burning up!

We can’t carry on, love, says Dad. We don’t have enough petrol to get back and if we try we’ll be stranded on the side of the road. Emmy wonders what stranded is. It doesn’t sound good. She agrees with Dad; they should stay here. There is one little bed that Mum is sitting on, and a mattress on the floor. Oh Gareth, she hears again, as Dad puts her down. She checks on baby dolly. She has a fever too, and she is also crying softly. Mum is opening her shirt to feed Daniel, and Emmy does the same for baby dolly. Daniel and baby dolly always feel better when they have had a drink.

Dad goes out to get the suitcase and move the car. I need a wee, Emmy says to Mum, but then she wishes she hadn’t because Mum is still feeding Daniel who is fussing, and she is crying again. The lady with the round face looks in at the door.

Okay, nana? she says to Emmy.

I need a wee, says Emmy. The lady chuckles and says something to Mum.

Go with the nice lady, Emmy, says Mum, through her tears. Leave dolly with me, okay?

Emmy obeys and takes the lady’s outstretched hand. It is so cold outside, and so, so dark. But the lady holds her hand tightly and takes her behind the little house. They walk across some grass to a funny building only as wide as a door. Emmy looks up at the lady, confused. The lady laughs and opens the door. There’s a toilet inside! Emmy is so surprised she laughs too.

When Dad comes back Emmy is snuggling against Mum, baby dolly back in her arms. Dad opens the suitcase and gets out her Frozen pyjamas. She can just make out Elsa on the front, and the icicles all around. It’s funny, she thinks. Elsa would like Lesotho. It’s icy cold, just like her. He helps her put them on as fast as she can, so she doesn’t get too cold. Then he rubs her arms and legs up and down, up and down, so she giggles and says Don’t Daddy, I’m warm now.

He tucks her up on the mattress on the floor with her pink blankie that was in the suitcase. Maybe tomorrow Mum will let her put it over her shoulder instead of a jersey. She closes her eyes; she can hear Mum changing Daniel and she can smell his dirty nappy. She hears some more Lesotho people come in and talk to Mum and Dad, and then they go out again. Dad lies down on the mattress next to her, and then there’s a funny-smelling blanket over both of them – funny-smelling but nice and warm. Mum and Dad are talking softly, and Daniel has stopped crying.

He drank a bit, they say. And the Panado is staying down. We’ll find some phone reception in the morning, love. We’ll call someone to help us. It’ll be okay. Emmy is being such a star, isn’t she? They think she’s sleeping, but she’s not. These people are so kind. Can you believe it? She’s all warm now, and baby dolly is too. The voices fade, and she is asleep.

In the morning there is funny sweet white porridge for breakfast. The Lesotho people bring it in a blue tin bowl for her, and she sits on the step outside the little house in her Elsa pyjamas and her pink blankie and eats it all. Dad has gone to find somewhere where the phone will work, says Mum. Daniel is still sick, but Emmy thinks he’s not as red as he was yesterday. And he’s having some milk again now. That will make Mum happy.

She can see now that someone forgot to paint this house, and that there’s no proper floor, only hard dirt. Her fluffy slippers are all brown already, and all she did was go to the funny loo again. Dad took her this time. Look Dad, she says. There’s no flush! Just a deep hole! But Dad didn’t think it was funny. He just told her to hurry.

And there are children, lots of them, who want to touch her pink blankie and her hair. She can’t understand what they are saying, but she lets some of them hold baby dolly. She wants to go and play with them, but Mum looks worried. The nice lady with the round face pats Mum on the shoulder and tells her not to worry. Mum nods yes but Emmy knows she doesn’t like it.

The children show her where they climb rocks and where there’s a hole with a snake in it. They make snake noises and wiggle their hands and Emmy knows what they mean. They ask her name and she tries to say theirs. One girl a little bigger than her gives her a sweet in a plastic wrapper and Emmy eats it guiltily. Mom doesn’t let her eat sweets except at parties. But this is like a party, with so many children. A pyjama party, she thinks, giggling to herself. Mum has forgotten to dress her.

When she gets back Mum hugs her hard. I didn’t know where you were, she says. And Daddy’s not back yet. Emmy pats Mum’s hair. Mum is frowning again, and her eyes are red like Daniel’s.

Don’t worry, Mummy, says Emmy. Baby dolly is feeling all better now and Daniel is too. She goes over to him where he is sitting in his carseat on the floor. She leans over him and wiggles her fingers at him and he smiles, just a little.

And then Daddy is back with the Lesotho man and he’s smiling too. He looks funny; his clothes are messy and he hasn’t shaved, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his face. He hugs Mum and says something to her, and she says Oh Gareth again. But it’s a happy Oh Gareth this time.

She plays with the children again and eats some greasy little doughnut balls they give her. She doesn’t want the triangle cheese and the rice cakes Mum offers her after that. Daniel has a long nap and so does Mum, and then a car arrives with some petrol for their car. And she has to say goodbye to the Lesotho children, and Mum is saying Oh Gareth, she’s still in her pyjamas! And they are driving away down the bumpy road.

She looks over at Daniel. She finds a toy on the seat and reaches over to give it to him. He grabs it and stuffs it in his mouth. Was that a nice holiday, Daniel? she asks. He goos at her, and she laughs.

She’s lifting baby dolly up to show him now, and she sees Mum half-turned to look at them in the back. 

Oh look at them Gareth, says Mum, reaching over to put her arm around Dad’s shoulder as he drives. Dad lifts his chin to look at them in his rear-view mirror. She catches his eye and he winks. It was cold in the village, cold enough for Elsa and her icicles. But she's not cold now; the sun streams through the window making her sleepy. Lesotho is not so cold, she thinks, remembering the smiley woman, the funny toilet, the children and the sweet porridge. Elsa wouldn't like it here much after all.