[COMPLETE] African Pride

14. The Color of America

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Karasi? Karasi it's time to wake up!"

Halima, I swear to the gods if they don't leave me—

I stopped, tears welling in my eyes as I remembered that Halima was in Kenya and I... I was in Washington D.C. Uttering a soft groan of frustration I sat up, parting my birds' nest of hair to look around the room I was forced to call my own for the next year.

No. Not the next year. The next six months. Then I will be eighteen, and I can leave here. However, will Jiona still is out there...? Will she be alive?

Rising from my bed, I walked down the stairs and to the dining room. A buffet of food had been laid out on the long table, some I knew and some I didn't. One item that confused me the most was a pile of what looked to be small, black, glass marbles.

Victoria, Albert, Henry, and Anne were already there, my cousins sitting next to each other as they stared at their mobile mobiles. They looked to be different from the ones I had seen in Nairobi, as these mobiles appeared to be mostly a flat, glass screen.

"Habari za asubuhi," I murmured in greeting.

Everyone looked up, my cousins smiling warmly at me. Henry did as well. Anne just rolled her eyes.

"What does that mean?" Victoria asked, tilting her head.

"Good morning," I replied. "It's Swahili."

"Why don't you just speak English?" Anne snapped. "I know that you speak it fluently. You're in America now; speak it."

"Last time I checked, 'American' isn't a language, you mchawi wa zamani," I shot back. "I speak more languages than you have fingers on your hands. More, than I'm sure you do."

Anne gasped. Victoria and Albert both slapped their hands over their mouths, smothering their giggles.

"Karasi, Annie..." Henry pleaded. "Please..."

"Kara, grab a plate and come over here," Albert said, nodding to the seat next to Victoria.

I shot Anne another dirty look before getting a plate and looking over my options for food. I recognized pancakes and scrambled eggs; but they also had bizarre pastries, meats, fruits; and other things. The meat looked the worst, ground up and dark brown, smelling like sewage.

"Why are the sausages look like... uchafu?" I asked, confused.

"Like what?" Albert asked.

"Shit," I said.

"Young lady, you will learn that we do not use such language in this house," Anne hissed. "Those are meat substitute sausages."

"Why the hell does meat need a substitute?" I asked.

"It's delicious if that's what you are afraid of," Victoria said. "It's flavored to taste exactly like meat."

I arched an eyebrow. "Why the hell would I want something that tastes like meat, when I can just eat some meat?"

"We can tell the cooks to buy more meat, if you would like," Henry volunteered, finding a middle ground. "What do you eat?"

"Goat is my favorite," I replied. "But I also like chicken now and then. Never pork, it's disgusting. I also don't eat beef. It's sacred to my people."

"Goat, chicken. No pork or beef. Got it," Henry said nodding. "Now, have a seat, your cousins want to tell you something."

Since they didn't have any meat that I liked, I instead settled on several pieces of fresh fruit. Taking a seat next to Albert, he and Victoria exchanged glances, smiling at each other before turning to me.