I was asked to drive for the teen club. At first I would only pick up and bring two kids. Very few teenagers had come from San Nicolas this time. But in the end two girls still had to be brought home to San Nicolas. And so I had four kids with me on the van. I quickly delivered the boys to our house in Savaneta and went on to San Nicolas. The first girl was soon home. With a short greeting she disappeared behind the gate of the house. I was left with fourteen-year-old Anna[1]. She lives in the very back, close to the cunuc[2], about a 10-minute drive from where we were at the time. It was quiet for most of the ride. I asked her to show me the way, which she literally did; finger to the right when we had to go right, and finger to the left when we had to go left. We arrived at her house; dark, no one home. She didn’t have a key, checked the door and windows anyway. I promised to wait. She came back with no result. “I think I know where my mother is,” she said. I said, “That’s fine, we’ll drive there.” It was quiet again and the finger pointing ritual was repeated. We drove back largely the same way as we came. I asked, “Are you worried about your mother?” “Not always,” she replied. She let out a sigh as she said it. “We’re going to find her,” I said. She didn’t answer.
A little later we arrived in the Village, down the street from an auntie. First she saw her slightly older brother walking there. “Hey, what is he doing here,” was her response, followed by: “I have no business with him.” And so we continued.
Her mother turned out not to be with auntie. But auntie thought she knew where her mother was; at her stepfather’s place. So we got back on the bus, the finger pointing ritual repeated itself once again. Back on the way to the back, even closer to the cunuc.
At stepfather’s house it turned out that her mother’s car was indeed parked in front of the door. Anna visibly breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said as she half stepped out of the van. I told her, “I’ll wait until you get inside safely. Go quickly.” And off she went.
[1] Fictitious name. [2] Cunucu stands for outback farmland.
Image from Pixabay.