Diamond Mine (7 page)

It took only a minute to extract herself from the back seat. Spine stiff, she leaned against the dented metal and took a deep breath. She walked toward the cabin. Over her shoulder she sent a furtive glance, not trusting the driver to wait. Instead of watching her, or focusing on a detail in the cab, his head shifted as if he searched for someone else. She swallowed and shoved aside her worry.

If she wasn't in the correct place and he left her, what would she do? Of course, she hadn't paid him yet. That should deter him. However, the way he acted made her feel that if he wanted to leave, the money she owed wouldn't be enough to stop him.

A few steps before she reached the door, it opened. Melanie stood there; a shocked expression covered her face.

“Hannah?”

“Melanie!”

They embraced, laughing and jumping around the small porch like school girls. Each of them tried to talk but nothing sensible came out.

The driver interrupted. “I can go, yes?”

Hannah looked over her shoulder and answered, “Yes, of course. I see you brought my luggage. Thank you.”

“My pay?” he asked, with a raised brow.

“Oh, of course.” Hannah rifled through her purse.

The driver quoted an amount and Melanie ranted. “That is highway robbery!”

“No, I didn't rob her on the highway. I drove her from the airport.”

Melanie's piercing gaze hit the driver. He shifted and stared at the ground. The desire to retreat was there, but there was nowhere to hide. Louder and louder, she shouted. “Are you crazy? Do you know how far it is from the airport to here?”

He shrugged and answered, “About sixty miles?”

After his answer, Melanie redirected her questions. “Seriously Hannah? Sixty miles? Sixty miles, you say! You're lucky he's not charging you more. Why didn't you call me? I could have—”

Hannah shrank from the harsh words, but Melanie's voice faded and Hannah finished her sentence. “Come and got me?”

Melanie gazed at the ground. Her feet shuffled. “No, I couldn't have. I guess you should pay the fee.”

Hannah dished out the ridiculous amount.

The driver grinned broadly and waved as he walked backward to his vehicle. “You ever need another ride, you call me.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Not going to happen, buddy.”

The motor sputtered. Dust billowed from the back tires as he sped away. Hannah faced Melanie. A smile tugged at her lips.

Melanie said, “What are you doing here? No, never mind, it doesn't matter. We have to find a way to get you home,
now
. You shouldn't be here.”

Hannah's lips drooped. “But—”

Melanie looked back and forth and ushered her inside. “Come, let's talk in here.”

Hannah thought of a storyline.
A
rriv
ing
in a foreign land
,
a
heroine would me
e
t a strange and
an
exotic man
.
H
e would whisk her away to explain the secret details of their not so chance meeting
..
.

“Hannah! Snap out of it. This is no time to plot your next story.”

Hannah shook her head and sighed. She hated leaving a hero behind.

Melanie glared. Anger and a type of desperation came from her tone. “What are you doing here?”

Hannah arched her brow. “I traveled halfway around the world to get here, and that is all you can say?”

Melanie drew a ragged breath and changed her tone. “Hannah, it
is
good to see you, but you shouldn't have come.”

“But, Korzan, he sent me a ticket. He said you were homesick and needed a friend.”

“He what?” Melanie asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah. It was an open-ended ticket. Honestly, it couldn't have come at a better time. I mean, my publisher is driving me bonkers, and Tonya was yelling at me to take a vacation, and I kept telling her I had to sell some books before I took off. And — why are you staring at me like that?”

“Korzan sent you a ticket?”

“Yes. I said that already. He told me he purchased a ticket to South Africa because you two had left Sudan and moved here. He said you needed a friend.”

Tears coursed along Melanie's face. Hannah admired Melanie's beauty — black silken hair, dark, almost-black eyes, and light cocoa-colored skin. She wore a kanga, a traditional African dress, and held an authentic presence, as if she belonged in her new home. But something about Melanie seemed different, changed.

Hannah expected the fresh dirt under her nails, and the change in style wasn't odd either, but what she never expected was Melanie's defeated and dejected appearance.

Wrapping her arms around Melanie's weeping frame, Hannah led her to the sofa. The sparsely populated room contained one couch and several hardback wooden chairs. Bookcases lined the walls, filled from floor to ceiling with paperback books. Their spines were worn and broken, showing how many times they'd been read and enjoyed.

In the corner of the small living area was a piano. Dark wood shone as light streamed in from the front windows.

Hannah picked a seat and perched on the edge. “Melanie, please tell me what's wrong.”

“He's gone,” came her muffled words.

Hannah shook her hand in confusion. “What?”

Melanie looked at Hannah, their eyes met and held. “Korzan is dead.”

I
mpossible
! Melanie was wrong. Wasn't she?

Hannah opened her mouth to ask about Korzan, when the house started to creak and groan. She twisted in her seat.

“Miss Melanie, Miss Melanie, we saw a car—” The voice stopped as a tiny girl skidded to a halt.

Melanie swiped her tears away, smiled sadly, and beckoned the guest forward. “Cara, I want you to meet my friend from America. Hannah Baker.”

Cara's shoulders rose in a shy manner. Bending toward Melanie's ear she whispered, “She's white.”

Hannah hid a smile behind her hand and studied the child. Beautiful brown eyes and dark-skinned, Cara's face and arms were marred by pink lines, indicating healed burn marks.

Tears pooled in her eyes and Hannah cleared her throat.

Melanie grimaced. “Cara, it's not polite to whisper. We will discuss your questions later.”

The girl nodded and scampered away.

“Charming kid,” said Hannah, swiping away a stray tear.

“She can be.” Melanie twisted her hands in front of her.

Hannah changed the subject. “I don't want to assume, but I'm getting the impression you would prefer I wasn't here. And what is all this business about—”

Interrupted again, this time a plethora of children flooded the room. Voices chattered. Hannah twisted her neck from side-to-side trying to follow the conversation.

“Children, calm down. It was just a cab.”

“Why did it come?” asked one fretting child.

“It's bad. It's always bad. Visitors come here for no other purpose.”

Melanie's hand rose. Silence ensued. “I assure you this visit is not nefarious in nature. Now go outside and play.”

The children complied. The room empty and silent, Melanie stood. “Why don't you settle in and I'll make us some tea?”

Hannah hesitantly agreed. Directed to the first bedroom off a narrow hallway, she dragged her luggage, careful not to scar the wall. Pushing back the door, she stood at the entrance. Sparsely furnished, the clean room smelled of roses. A filled vase sat on a small, round, wooden table. A twin bed nestled against the wall, decorated by a thin blanket covered in large wildflowers.

“I know it's not the opulence you're used to, but it's clean and comfortable.”

“No, this is great,” said Hannah.

“If you'd rather stay at a hotel…” Melanie's voice drifted.

Hannah faced Melanie. “Of course not. I came to visit you, not be off locked away in some hotel.”

“When the tea is ready we will take it outside so I can watch the children.”

“Sure. Just let me grab my hat and some sunscreen. If I go home burned to a crisp, Tonya will never let me hear the end of it.”

Melanie smiled. “Sounds like the same old Tonya.”

Hannah shrugged and followed Melanie. She carried a plateful of cookies. Outside they sat on a rough wooden picnic bench and watched the children run.

“Tell me about Tonya. Is she still working at the firm?”

She wanted to ask questions about Korzan, but as she studied Melanie, how her eyes darted down the road, how she watched the children's every movement, she hesitated. Maybe Melanie needed this distraction, this sense of normalcy.

“No. She quit when Mikey was born.”

“Mikey?”

Hannah batted her lashes. “Do you mean you haven't talked to Tonya in the last two years?”

Melanie shrugged and sipped her tea. A tear escaped her blinking eyes. “I've been busy.”

“Mikey is close to two now, and Tonya has another on the way. Babies and more babies. Quite frankly, I'm surprised you and Korzan never had any of your own.” Hannah reached for a cookie. It was gooey, and the chocolate melted in her mouth.

Sobs raked Melanie's body. Hannah moved closer and patted Melanie's back. She bit her tongue and waited for Melanie to gain control.

Clearing her throat, Melanie stood and walked inside the house. Hannah followed. Several shelves on the bookcase held Bibles and other theological books. Melanie selected a tome, flipped through a few pages, and pulled out a black and white photo. Placing the glossy picture on the table, Melanie stared out the window.

Hannah bent at the waist and studied the fuzzy image. Eye sockets, distinct appendages, a heart. It was an ultrasound picture.

A frown furrowed Hannah's brow. “What happened?”

“The doctors don't know.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Hannah asked.

Melanie shrugged and studied the carpet.

A date, scribbled across the bottom, drew Hannah's attention and she gasped.

Korzan sent me
the
ticket right after
Melanie
l
o
st the baby.
The post office obviously misplaced the letter.

“Why do you think I've been sent here?” asked Hannah breathlessly.

Melanie sighed. “Don't read into it.”

“But, Melanie, it has to mean something. I wanted to tell you earlier, but you said Korzan was dead and—”

The sound of thunder reverberated throughout the tiny living space as Melanie's wards rushed inside. Oxygen depraved, they huffed and puffed. Their tiny chests heaved, their mouths opened wide, and they gasped.

“Melanie! Melanie! They're coming!” They shouted in unison.

Melanie's eyes widened with shock. “Again? Hurry children. We must hide!”

Even with the urgency expressed in her friend's voice, Hannah didn't move. Children swarmed around them, insisting there was danger, but it was as if the ground held her rooted in place. The former brightness of the room dimmed. All sound faded. The only noise she could hear was the rapid beating of her heart. She barely registered the warmth of someone's hand as it dragged her from the couch.

“Come on! We have to get out of here!” Melanie pleaded.

Hannah shook her head. “Why? I don't understand? What's going on?”

Melanie implored. “Hannah, listen to me. There is no time to explain. We have to hide.” Under her breath, she mumbled, “You shouldn't have come. What was Korzan thinking?”

The hairs on Hannah's arms stood on end. Something didn't feel right. Half a day she'd been here, and the children were already crazy. They ran in circles. Several of them waved their arms in hushed excitement. She couldn't tell from how they behaved if what was happening was a good thing or a bad thing.

Allowing herself to be hauled from her position, she stood and listened as Melanie spoke in calm hushed tones. “Children, form a train and don't let go. We need to stay together and be quiet. Just like last time.”

In the middle of the train, Hannah joined hands. They weaved around the comfortable furniture and shuffled toward a room in the back. Melanie lifted the curtain.

“No,” she whispered. She faced them and said more loudly. “I have to go outside. I'll be right back.”

Hannah lifted her hand to protest being left alone with the strange children, but Melanie didn't stop. The children stared at her with widening gazes.

Gnawing her lip, she rubbed her hands. Noises filtered in. Agitated, the children grabbed her hand and pulled her outside. They made it no farther than the front porch.

Melanie stood there. Dust flew through the air, and Hannah fanned it away. Kids coughed and spit as the particles swirled. When the smoke cleared, she wished she could bring it back. In front of the house sat a convoy and two jeeps full of angry men, brandishing weapons.

The kids moved out of line and gathered in a small tight circle around Melanie. Her arms attempted to wrap around all of them at one time, while Hannah did her best to move in close as well.

As they huddled together, one man leaned over the side of a vehicle and eyed them critically. “Ah, what do we have here?”

Melanie trembled, but not with the rage Hannah expected. Her lip quivered, a moan flew from her lips, and sweat beaded her brow.
She
is
afraid
.

What could have happened to cower her so? In school, Melanie had championed many a cause, going up against some of the toughest speaking men and women on campus. Now it looked as if the speech of this one man caused her to crumble.

Hannah refused to be intimidated. Spine erect and head held high, she demanded, “What is the meaning of this?”