Eden

41

"Thank you," I say, relieved. "Just thank you. I really appreciate this."

The water-seller shrugs. "Turn around," she says. She points to a spot on the ground, beside the backpack water-barrel, and in front of it. "And stand there."

I do, and she stands behind me, and bends over, and fiddles with the backpack for a moment. The pack is a frame made of pieces of wood fastened together by tying ropes around the joins. There are two shoulder straps made of plaited cloth fastened to the frame, and she seems to be untangling those from the rest of the pack. From the way she's got me to stand with my back to it, I think she's planning to heave it up and onto my back, so I put my arms at my sides, and slightly behind me, assuming that will make it easier for her.

She finishes fiddling, and looks up, and around. "Help me, girl," she says to Lexi.

Lexi looks annoyed, but gets up and comes over.

"We're going to lift it up," the water-seller says, loudly, like Lexi is a bit stupid. "Can you manage that?"

"Yes," Lexi says.

"You can?" the water-seller says. "Are you sure?"

Lexi nods, slightly impatiently.

So that solves the problem of Lexi not helping, I think. Now she is. I grin at Lexi, hoping a smile will stop her being offended or whatever she might be feeling at the water-seller's blunt manner. I'm not sure if she heard the water-seller talking about her a moment ago, but she seems to be ignoring it if she did. I grin, hoping Lexi won't be difficult, and Lexi grins back.

"Are you ready?" the water-seller says to me.

I nod. "Yep."

"Lift," the water-seller says to Lexi, and together, holding either side of the backpack's wooden frame, they lift the whole thing up onto my back.

They lift, and I slide my arms backwards into the shoulder-straps, and it isn't that heavy, actually, and the shoulder-straps aren't as uncomfortable as I'd feared. They're wide enough they don't dig into me, and made of cloth, which softens the weight a little.

I wriggle my back, and shrug a bit, and the pack settles onto my back.

The water-seller looks at me, and nods, and seems satisfied. She picks up the bucket from the ground, where I left it, and loops the rope into a neat coil, and puts in it inside the bucket. She then hangs the bucket on the backpack behind me, from some sticking out part of the wooden frame I can't see.

"Can you manage?" she says to me, when she's finished.

I take a few steps, and decide I can walk easily enough. "Yes," I say.

"All right then," she says, and looks at Lexi, quite sternly. "Both of you follow me."