Between Heaven and Earth (8 page)

She pushed open the door and disappeared inside. I hesitated for a few seconds before I ducked down and stepped into the darkness. I looked around, letting my eyes adjust.

“Over here,” Sarah called out.

I saw her shadowy outline and followed. We went through the back of the hut and entered a dimly lit courtyard. Sarah shook hands with a boy who looked about my age but smaller. They exchanged a rapid burst of conversation, and I was pretty sure that I was the subject of that discussion. The boy looked nervous, his eyes shifting anxiously, and I was afraid he was about to bolt.

Finally the voices became quieter and calmer, and he came over with Sarah. I looked into his eyes and he looked away, but in that brief connection I just knew he wasn't somebody who could be trusted.

He turned and Sarah followed. I settled in behind. We left the courtyard through an opening in the fence, went down yet another little passageway, and then I skidded to a stop. We were standing in a little market square, much more brightly lit, and in front of me was a stall, its shelves filled with merchandise. Two more people, about the same age as our guide, were standing in front of the stall.

I scanned the length of the stall. There were T-shirts, skirts, toys, shoes, hammers and screwdrivers, suitcases and some backpacks—including mine. I had to fight the urge to yell something out or rush over to reclaim it. A little farther along was my other bag, and there were my hiking boots! My stuff was here. Were these the kids who had ripped me off? I looked closely at their faces as they talked, trying to see if they had been the ones. But really, all that I'd seen was the backs of their heads. Maybe I could ask them to turn around. Okay, that was stupid.

Sarah and the first boy spoke to the other two, who also seemed to be perturbed, probably upset about my being here. They exchanged anxious bursts of conversation and shot nervous glances in my direction. It gave me a strange sort of satisfaction that I was at least causing them some distress. If they tried to leave, I was still going to grab my boots and my bag and whatever else of mine I could find.

Sarah returned from speaking to the boys. “They say that they would be
most
pleased to sell you some merchandise.”

“They want to sell me my own stuff,” I hissed. “How big of them.”

“Yes, they will sell to you if you meet their price.”

“Their price? Those are
my
things! The things that were—”

“Keep your voice down. Do not get them excited.”

“I don't care if they're excited.”

“Oh, you
should
care, very much. We want everything to be friendly.”

“You want me to be friends with the people who ripped me off?” I asked quietly.

“I want you to be friendly with them, not become friends. We want to remain friendly while you purchase back the items you need.”

“I can't believe you want me to buy back my own things.”

“They
were
your things. Now they are
their
things.”

“But that's not right,” I protested.

Sarah turned around to face the three boys. “He is just deciding what things he wishes to purchase,” she called out. “He says you have very fine merchandise!”

The three boys nodded and waved and smiled.

She turned back toward me. “It does not matter if it is right or wrong, this is what must be done.”

“Look, what if I just grabbed my stuff? They couldn't stop us. I'm bigger than all of them combined, and there are two of us and only three of them.”

“There are only three that you can
see
,” she said. “All around are many, many more members of their street families. Besides, if there was to be a fight, there are not two of us; there is only you.”

“I know you're just a girl, but still you could—”

“Oh, no, you don't understand,” she said, cutting me off. “If there is a fight, I would join them. Never is it wise to be on the side of a crazy person, and you would be crazy to risk our lives for a few shillings.”

“But what about the
principle
of the thing? You're asking me to buy my
own
things.”

“As I said, your things now belong to these people. You have the money to buy them, so just buy them so we can leave,” she whispered. “Be grateful that you can have your things back.”

“What if we went and got the police to come and arrest them?” I suggested.

“You do not understand. The minute we go they will leave, and along with them would go your things, never to be seen again. And even if you could find the police they would not come with you tonight. You have to understand that the police do not like to come in here at night. They think it is
too
dangerous.”

It suddenly dawned on me where I was and what we were doing. I wasn't standing in line at Walmart. I was in a place that was too dangerous for the police to come.

“Okay, fine. Let's go
shopping
for my things.”

I went to the first stall and picked up my pack, which was going to hold my things on the climb to the top of the mountain. Now it would hold the things I needed to reclaim. I sifted through some more items. There were my cargo pants and five pairs of socks—two of them special “toe” socks designed to keep each toe separate and cushioned—and my shirts and running shoes and of course my hiking boots. Item by item I put them into the pack until I came to the boots. I went to put them into the pack and one of the boys stepped forward and stopped me, saying something I didn't understand.

“He wants for you to try them on to make sure they fit,” Sarah explained.

“Oh, I'm pretty sure they'll fit unless my feet have changed sizes in the last few hours.”

“Just do as he asks,” Sarah said.

Almost instantly one of the other boys materialized holding a little three-legged stool. I sat down and pulled a pair of socks—my socks—out of the pack. I kicked off the sandals, pulled on the socks and then slipped my foot into one of the boots.

The same boy said something and Sarah translated. “He wants to know if they fit.”

“Tell him they are too small and I want to know if he has something bigger.”

Sarah looked shocked.

“Go ahead and tell him.”

Sarah gave me a sly smile and then spoke. The boy looked as surprised as she had.

“Ask him if he has any bigger ones because I do not really like these much.”

Sarah translated and the boy replied.

“He says there are no bigger ones in Tanzania, and he thought for sure they would fit you as if they were your own.”

“Tell him they are too small and too ugly, but I will take them if the price is right.”

Sarah burst into laughter and then told the boy, who also started to laugh. He slapped her on the back.

“He says the price will be good because he likes you. He says you are a good
mzungu
.”

I did up the laces on the boots, making sure they were tied tightly. I wasn't giving back these boots and I wanted to have something better than sandals if I had to run.

I searched the stall again until I was certain that I'd located all of my things. What I couldn't fit into my pack I put into my other bag—the green duffel bag. I did a rough tally in my head, trying to remember what else was missing, what else I still had to find. I basically had everything I could think of, including my special flashlight—the one I would wear on my head like a mining light.

“That's it,” I said.

“Good. We will negotiate a price.”

The two of them began talking. The conversation quickly became excited, and I could tell that they had very different ideas about what I should pay. I wished I could have been part of the discussion or at least understood what they were saying. The one boy turned away and joined the other two, and the three of them began an equally noisy discussion.

“I have offered them around twenty thousand shillings,” Sarah said to me.

“But you told me to bring—”

“Be quiet. Do not let them hear the number. Numbers in English they understand. We are negotiating. They wish to have one hundred and fifty thousand shillings!”

“I don't have that much money with me!”

“And we will not pay that much. This is how things are done here. I will talk them down.”

Sarah turned to the boys and yelled out something, and instantly all three of them burst into laughter, one of them laughing so hard that he almost fell over.

“What did you say to them?” I asked.

“I told them that if they didn't sell the boots to you that they would have to hope that an elephant needed footwear or perhaps a small family could use one of them as a hut.”

The first boy returned, and he and Sarah again started talking, throwing sentences back and forth. Finally, judging from the nodding of heads, I thought they'd reached a decision.

“Give me your money,” Sarah said. “And turn your pockets inside out so they can see that you carry nothing more.”

I did what I was told.

There were more arguments, more discussion, and then finally Sarah gave them the money. The boy looked at me and said something.

“He is telling you that it was a pleasure to do business with you and that he hopes you always keep an eye on your things.”

“Tell him he's a no good—”

“I will pass on your thanks and appreciation,” Sarah said.

They exchanged a few more words; she shook hands with the boy, who then shook my hand, and the three of them turned and vanished into the darkness.

“What about the rest of their things?” I asked, gesturing to the still-full market stall.

“These things are not theirs—only the things that they stole from you belonged to them and now, once again, belong to you. We must leave and leave quickly.”

I didn't need a second invitation. We left the little market square and headed in the opposite direction from the boys. Waiting at the exit was my entourage of children, which seemed to be much larger now. They scattered like a flock of birds, trying to get out of our way. No sooner had we passed than they fell in behind us. Sarah was moving fast, and I found myself out of breath trying to keep up with her. At least now we were moving in the right direction. Things were getting bigger—the pathway, the buildings, and the spaces between the buildings—and we burst onto a street, a real street with real shops. There were some other tourists strolling down the street. We were safe! I let out a big sigh of relief.

Sarah slowed down and I came up beside her.

“That was a little scary,” I said.

“If you were not
very
scared, you did not understand what we just did.”

“I guess I didn't really understand, but at least it all ended well. But it almost didn't, right? He wanted more money than I had, didn't he?”

“Yes, he demanded more, but I made a deal. I said to him that if he somehow is
mistakenly
arrested as a thief and taken before a judge, that he could mention my name, the
granddaughter
of Elijah, and I would come and testify that he was of good character and he would be released.”

“And would you do that?”

“I gave my word.”

“Thanks for doing all of that. I really do owe you one.”

“Part of how you can pay me back is to not mention any of this to anybody, especially my father. He would think poorly of you for losing your things,” she explained.

There was something about her expression that made me think that there was more that she wasn't saying. And then it came to me.

“You also don't want anyone to know
how
I got my things back, do you?”

She shook her head. “We would both be in trouble, but especially me. What we did was not so wise.”

I wondered just how “not so wise” it had been.

“There is one thing that you could do to repay me,” she said.

“Just name it.”

“I want you to tell my father that you want me to be one of your porters when you climb the mountain.”

“Sure, of course, that's no problem.”

“I will tell him that you wish to have somebody your age along,” she said.

“How old are you?” I asked, sure that she wasn't
my
age.

“I am fifteen.”

“I'm almost eighteen, so we're not exactly the same age.”

“Not the same, but I am closer to you than others. So I will tell him that you insisted on me coming along.”

“Sure, you can tell him that I want you to come,”

I said.

“Not just want—
insist
. I will tell him it is a special request from the grandson of his father's good friend. Then he will not be able to say no.”

“Okay, tell him I insist that I won't climb the mountain without you. I really do owe you this.”

“Thank you.”

“And what happened tonight will be our secret.”

“Good, a secret. Now I will get you back to the hotel. Tomorrow you will meet my father and the members of your climbing group, and the details of the climb will be discussed.”

I wondered if I'd already seen the rest of my group. There were so many people at the hotel, it was hard to tell.

“For each member of the party there will be two porters. With any luck I will be one of your porters. We will carry your things.”

“I agreed you could come along, but I can carry my own things,” I said. I was so much bigger than Sarah that I could have carried
her
.

“You will carry your clothes, but we will carry water and food, the tent and sleeping bag,” she explained.

“When we go camping at home, I always carry all of my own things,” I said.

“You have climbed a mountain when you camped before?” she asked.

“Not a mountain, but I've done a lot of camping and a lot of hiking at the lake we go to.”

“This is no lake. You cannot reach the top without porters. It is not legal to climb without them and a guide. Those are the rules.”