Africa's not for Sissies

Chapter 13: Reflexology and Malawi Gold

I couldn't sleep. I felt too much guilt. I slipped a note in Deborah's locker.

Decided to stay at Bibs in St. Lucia instead. Enjoy the rest of your travels.

- Will

In the morning, there were several people waiting for the bus. Edi was there, but I noticed she wasn't carrying her backpack.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked her.

"No, I decided to stay a few extra days. I just wanted to say goodbye."

She gave me a hug. My heart fluttered. She smelled nice. She hugged Jerry next, and then Fred, and then she came to James. She hesitated before hugging him, and then she kissed him on the cheek.

My face burned.

"You have my email," James said.

"YOU CAN'T STAY AT BIBS!"

I jumped at the booming voice and turned to see Deborah, wearing her backpack, waddling directly towards me.

"We're all staying at African Tales," she said. "You can't stay at Bibs!"

Jerry looked at me and mouthed the words, Did you tell her?

James gave me a look of disgust. Fred shook his head. The Dutch couple shared words in Dutch. I didn't need to understand Dutch to know they were saying, "We never should have told him."

It was a solemn bus ride. No one spoke to me, except Deborah, who prattled endlessly about how much fun she was having in Africa, and kept asking me to pronounce random words. At one point she asked, "Aren't you afraid of polar bears?"

I looked at her, unsure if she was serious. She stared back with a look of genuine interest. I had more in common with Deborah than I cared to admit. I knew what it was like to be unpopular and excluded from a group. As a kid, I was picked-on a lot, probably because I was too small and uncoordinated to do anything about it. I guessed she probably suffered for being heavyset and gullible, but she was blessed with a simplicity that prevented her from realizing how gullible she was or how others perceived her. The right thing to do would be to set her straight on a few things.

"There are no polar bears where I live," I said.

She poked me in the arm. "Get out of here. I heard they break into people's houses all the time."

"Did your Canadian roommates tell you that?"

She nodded.

"Deborah, I think you're roommates were having a bit of fun at your expense. Polar bears don't break into our houses – "

She broke into laughter, slapped her thigh and poked me. "Say 'houses' again."

I sighed.

Poke. "Please. Just one more time."

"Houses," I said.

She burst into laughter again. "I love Canadians. I don't know why you're always feeling so inferior. You should be proud. No one cares if you're a little backward compared to us."

I looked at her for a long time. "Have you ever been to Canada?"

She gave me a smug look. "Why would I go to Canada? I live in America."

I had no response, but I think her question was rhetorical anyway.

"I bet our scientists could you help you figure a way to keep the polar bears out of your houses."