Telesa - The Covenant Keeper (15 page)

Shaking my head, I made myself a clumsy sandwich with the ever-present chunks of bread, devouring it in a few hasty gulps. My lip ached a little but the swelling seemed to have gone a bit. Enough for me to hope that Aunty Matile would believe I had tripped and fallen down the stairs at school? Hmm…I grabbed more ice. My hunger satiated, I wandered into the living room, wide awake now, my mind still dancing over the memory of Daniel – his touch, his anger at the source of my pain. On the dining table was an envelope propped against the salt shaker. Grandmother Elizabeth’s elegant handwriting screamed at me. My good spirits instantly deflated as I tore the letter open with dread. Oh no, what could have prompted the old lady to write me snail mail?

“My dearest Granddaughter,

It is my fondest hope that this letter finds you well. I can only think with dread of what manner of living conditions you must be enduring on that island. Please know that all you have to do is call and we can arrange for your return. I cannot pretend to understand your motivation for going to Samoa. I know you are grieving – as am I. Perhaps, you are finding solace in the land of your mother. I want you to know that I love you. And I loved your father very much. I am worried about you so far away in a primitive country with primitive traditions. Please be careful. Please come home soon. I was going through some of your father’s papers and found this photograph. I thought you might like it.

Yours truly,

Elizabeth Folger

There was a photo in the envelope. A couple sat side by side on a doorstep. Each holding a baby in their arms. The man was my dad. Painfully young and joyously handsome, he held one little baby in the crook of his arm. He wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he gazed consumingly at the woman beside him. She stared straight into the lens, unafraid and defiantly beautiful. Long hair hung past her waist. Her deep-set eyes dared the photographer to find a single flaw. She too held a baby. Casually. Half slipping off her knee. I was stunned. That was my father. And the woman with him must be my mother. I had never seen the photo before. But I had seen the woman. Many times. In my feverish, adrenaline-racing nightmares. Wearing a
siapo
cloth, carrying a war knife. The woman who every night was searching for me. The woman who’s exultant smile terrified me.
No, this can’t be right. I last saw this woman when I was only a few months old. How could I possibly remember her well enough to be having nightmares about her? What’s going on?

Questions screamed in the night. Drowning out the bush crickets and the snickering lizards. Why had my father never shown me this photo? He had always apologetically explained that there hadn’t been many cameras around in his early Peace Corp Samoa days and what few pictures they had taken had been destroyed in the cyclone that had killed my mother. And yet here it was. A photo of my parents and me. But who was the other baby in the picture?

I stumbled back to my room with the letter and shoved the photograph into the bottom of my suitcase. Sleep was a long time coming.

* * * *

Thanks to my being up half the night, I was almost late for the bus the next morning. I was relieved to see in the mirror that a slight bruised cheek was the only relic of my previous day’s adventure. I could hear the familiar grind of the bus gearbox as it made its usual U-turn at the end of our street. Uncle Tuala was reading the newspaper and didn’t even look up as he said goodbye to me. Aunty Matile was nowhere to be seen as I opened the front door and frantically waved the bus down to a stop. I had put on a pair of dark sunglasses and, unused to the darkness, I almost fell over the step as I climbed up, sending the two school kids in the front seat into peals of laughter. I poked my tongue at them, which made them laugh even harder. Sitting on the bus, heart pounding with my near miss – I couldn’t believe it had been so easy to escape detection with my bruised face. Thank goodness, because I would never have been so lucky if it had been my dad.

A wizened old lady on the seat beside me was reading a newspaper. The headline caught my eye.

There was a photo of a boy lying in a hospital bed, his face heavily bandaged. I read on with horror.
‘Parents and school officials alike are gravely concerned about the extent of school sporting violence. Yesterday, a massive brawl broke out during a rugby game between Leifiifi and Samoa College. Several students escaped with mild injuries while one young man suffered second-degree burns to his face. It was unclear how the boy was injured as he was also mildly concussed and could not remember what had happened. Doctors expect a full recovery and say that, luckily, the burns are only surface burns and the boy will not require any plastic surgery. Members of the public are calling for a ban on inter-school sports until the safety of our young people can be ensured.

I felt sick with shock. That poor boy … his face. Stifling a panic-stricken sob with my aching hands, I tried to calm my raging thoughts with deep breaths. Questions screamed at me - what was happening to me? First the heat attacks, the raging temperatures, now – zapping people with fire? Burning their flesh? What would come next? And how would I stop it? All the golden peace of the day drained away. I felt like a killer on the run as I slunk off the bus.

I was so caught up with the craziness of it all that I almost walked right past him. Daniel. Standing at the gate, leaning against a cement post.

“Leila! … wait up.”

I wasn’t the only one to turn, incredulously, at his voice. There seemed to be a hush in the crowd of students around me as people craned their necks to see who Daniel, the school superstar, was calling out to?

I stopped in my tracks, surprised but delighted to see him. Here was someone who could put reason into this insane day.

“Hi.” Suddenly I was shy. Even after all the madness of the day before, what we had shared together – I was achingly shy in his presence.

“I’ve been waiting for you – I wasn’t sure if you’d come to school today. I called your house last night to check on you, but a lady said you were sleeping. How are you?” He peered closer at my face, as if trying to establish for himself whether I was recovered enough to be at school. “Hey – that doesn’t look too bad, you heal fast.”

Hearing him admit he had been waiting for me – watching for me – that he’d called my house, even, to ask after me – sent me into a tailspin. Stunned by it, I almost swayed in the morning sunlight. If this boy was motivated by guilt, or some misguided sense of responsibility for my safety, then he was
really
outdoing himself.

“I’m fine. I slept for hours yesterday when you dropped me off and I feel so much better this morning.” I was anxious to reassure him, so that he could retreat back up into his demi-god heights, leaving me alone on the plane of mere mortals, to catch my breath.

He didn’t seem in a rush to go anywhere, walking alongside me up the driveway towards the assembly area. “Are you sure? Here, let me carry your bag.” Without waiting for a reply he took my bag off my shoulder, leaving me with no defences, nothing to hang onto, nothing to hide my confusion behind. All my senses were screaming a warning now. Why was he being so nice to me? People were looking at us. At him rather. Talking to the new girl, walking beside her,
carrying her bag!
The tall, chicken-legs girl with the bushy hair and eyebrows. I felt hot as I imagined the whispers and hushed comments. Heat was the last thing I wanted to feel right now though, so I quickened my pace, hurrying us towards the assembly.

“You shouldn’t worry about me. I’m okay. Really. I am. And I don’t hold you in any way responsible for what happened yesterday … umm … just in case you felt that way.” Eager to dispel his guilt but then wondering if I had overstepped my bounds by
assuming
he actually cared either way. Oh – it was so frustrating this teenage boy-girl thing.

He shook his head at my words, about to answer when the shrill ring of the bell pierced the moment. “Oh – I gotta go – I’m doing the assembly today. I’ll see you later?” He handed me back my bag, turned to walk away and then stopped as if forgetting something. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a star-shaped piece of paper. “Just something I made for you. Catch you later.”

He left me then, a swirl of conflicting emotions. The paper shape was an intricately folded origami star. Written in blue ink on the center
For
and on the five points were the letters

L E I L A. It was beautiful in its delicate symmetry. I slipped it into my pocket – but kept caressing it with my fingers throughout the morning assembly. Daniel was conducting and it was difficult to stop a ridiculous smile from lighting up like a beacon on my face as I watched him lead the morning hymn and prayer. He needed no microphone to hold everyone’s attention, his voice ringing out strong and clear as he addressed the school. It assumed a cutting edge as he spoke to the gathered students about the fight with Leifiifi college. There was no sound from the school body, several of them hanging their heads as Daniel spoke. When he finished, it was the Principal’s turn before we were all dismissed to class.

Sinalei grabbed my arm excitedly as we drifted with the slow-moving crowd. “Leila what happened to you yesterday? Are you okay? Check out your face!” She ogled my bruise, agog with the excitement of it all. “Wow, how did it happen? Last I saw you were running back to the fight. I couldn’t figure out what you were doing.” Her face was sharp and curious. I knew I would have to defuse her immediately, before she ferreted out details that I didn’t want made public.

“Oh this is nothing! I tripped over one of those rocks on the other side of the field and banged my face on the road, talk about clumsy idiot.”

She persisted. “But why did you run back there anyway? Me and Mele were wondering what happened to you.”

“I was writing in my notebook when the fight started and I dropped it. It’s kinda important to me, my journal you know, so I had to go back for it. Don’t want the secrets of Leila Folger leaked out all over school.” My excuse sounded pitiful, even to me, but Sinalei had to be satisfied with it.

Like a dogged terrier that never lets go, she jumped to another topic of attack. “And this morning, was that Daniel walking you to assembly? Did he give you a ride to school?” Her bated breath was full of awe at the possibility that I had actually caught a ride with the demi-god.

Happy to tell the truth on that one, I replied emphatically. “No way. I caught the bus this morning as usual and I almost missed it too. I got up late and had to run to catch it and …”

My voice trailed away as Sinalei’s eyes glazed over. Clearly this was NOT a fascinating topic. Relieved, I hoped she would back off now for the rest of the day.

In English, we had moved on to poetry. “Don’t forget your essay assignment on the Highwayman for the weekend, class, and I won’t accept less than two pages – you hear me, Maleko!” Ms Sivani snapped warningly as the duck-tailed boy swaggered past her.

“Ms Sivani, that hurts! Of
course
I wouldn’t dream of leaving you hanging like that, you’ll get two and a half pages from me on Monday. After all, I am a hotter and smarter version of the Highwayman!” Maleko laughed as he struck a pose with an imaginary sword, sending it swishing down – right on top of the books in my hands, sending them flying.

“Oops sorry Leila. Wait, I’ll get them.” Maleko ducked eagerly to gather up my notes, while I stood there shaking my head at his antics. My amusement turned to panic, however, when his hands closed around the paper star that had fallen to the floor with my books.

“Hey, what’s this?” he read the words out slowly. “For Leila. Ooooh, this looks interesting.”

My heart pounding, I tried not to betray my panic – or else for sure Maleko would refuse to give the fragile star back. I had a feeling there was more writing contained in its folds and I had been savouring the anticipation until I could read it undisturbed. “Give that back – it’s nothing – just give it back.” My voice rose an octave as Maleko held the star up to the sunlight curiously.

“I think it’s a letter, let’s open it up and read it ay?!” His eager face turned to scan the classroom looking for some more of his teammates to share the joke.

Before I could threaten him with death and mayhem, a perfectly manicured hand snatched the star from his grasp and a flippant voice reprimanded him. “How dare you, Maleko. Stealing this girl’s private and personal correspondence.”

I sighed with relief as Simone flicked the paper star back into my hands and Maleko transferred his teasing attentions onto my rescuer. “
Se
Simone, I’m just having some fun, don’t be jealous cos I’m not playing with you.”

“Whatever, Maleko I wouldn’t play with you with a ten foot stick. Unlike Mele, I have good taste.” Simone sniffed derisively and turned to flounce his way along the corridor, Maleko’s team mates whistling after him and roaring with laughter.

Eager to remove myself from the scene of near humiliation, I swiftly gathered up the rest of my things and walked after Simone. “Simone, wait up.”