We stole away from the cabin, leaving Bobby, Helena, Daisy, and Jenny-May’s husband, Luc, to chat among themselves. We had a lot to say to each other. To explain our conversations would not do the moment justice because we talked about nothing. To explain how I felt, watching an older version of the pretty photo embedded in my memory come alive, would fall short of the enormity of my delight. Delight not good enough a word. Relief, joy, pure ecstasy still not even close.
I filled her in on local people she once knew who were doing things of no interest to anybody but her. She told me about her family, her life, all that she had done since I had seen her. I told her of mine. Not once did we speak about her treatment of me. Does that seem odd? It didn’t then. It wasn’t important. Not once did we mention where we both were. Does that seem odd too? Perhaps, but that wasn’t important either. It wasn’t about then, or where, it was just about now. This moment, today. We didn’t notice the hours go by, we barely saw the sunset and the moonrise. We didn’t feel the heat leave our skin and the evening breeze cooling it. We felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing but the stories, sounds, and visions of our own minds, which we filled each other with. It is nothing to others but so much to me.
But it is perhaps enough to say that a part of me was set free that night, as I sensed was the case for Jenny-May. We never said it to each other, of course. But we both knew.
53
Helena had to get back to the village for the dress rehearsal, and so while they said their good-byes, Jenny-May and I put our heads together and looked up to the camera in my hand and smiled. I took the photo and slid it into my shirt pocket. Jenny-May turned down her invitation to see the play, preferring to stay home with her family. We said we would meet again but we made no arrangements. Not out of any bad feeling between us, but because I felt it had all been said, or not said but understood, and she probably did too. To know she was there was enough, and for her to know I was around probably was too. Sometimes that’s all people ever really need. Just to know.
We borrowed a flashlight from Jenny-May, as the sun was hiding behind the tree, leaving us bathed in blue light. Helena led the way back to the village. Eventually I could see the lights in the distance. Feeling dizzy with happiness, I took the photos from my pocket to study them once more while walking. I retrieved two and felt around for the third. It was gone.
“Oh, no,” I moaned, and stopped walking, immediately looking to the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Bobby stopped walking and called to Helena to stop.
“The photograph of me and Jenny-May is gone.” I started to walk back the way we had come.
“Hold on, Sandy.” Bobby followed me, looking at the ground. “We’ve been walking for almost an hour now. It could be anywhere. We really have to get back to the Community Hall for the play; we’re late as it is. You can take another photo with her tomorrow when it’s bright.”
“No, I can’t,” I whinged, straining my eyes to see the ground in the evening light.
Helena, who so far hadn’t said a word, stepped forward. “You dropped it?”
That made me stop and look up at her. Her face was serious, her tone grave.
“I assume so. I doubt it leaped out and ran away on its own.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, I definitely dropped it. My pocket is open, see?” I showed them the shallow breast pocket. “Why don’t you two just go on ahead and I’ll look around here for a little while.”
They looked unsure.
“We’re less than five minutes away. I can see the pathway back, we’re so close.” I smiled. “Honestly, I’ll be OK. I have to find this photo and then I’ll go straight to the Community Hall to see the play. I promise.”
Helena was looking at me oddly, obviously torn between helping me and helping the cast prepare for their dress rehearsal.
“I’m not leaving you on your own,” Bobby said.
“Here, Sandy, you take this flashlight. Bobby and I will be able to see our way from here. I know it’s important for you to find it.” She handed over the flashlight and I thought I saw tears in her eyes.
“Helena, stop worrying!” I laughed. “I’ll be OK.”
“I know you will, sweetheart.” She leaned over and, taking me by surprise, planted a quick kiss on my cheek and gave me a quick, tight hug. “Be careful.”
Bobby smiled at me over Helena’s shoulder. “She’s not going to die, you know, Helena.”
Helena slapped him playfully over the head. “Come on with me. I need you to bring all the costumes over from the shop ASAP, Bobby! You promised I’d have them yesterday!”
“Well, that was before David Copperfield here was called to the Community Hall!” he defended himself playfully.
Helena glared at him.
“OK, OK!” He backed away from her. “Hope you find it, Sandy.” He winked at me before following Helena back down the path. I heard them nagging and teasing one another for a while until the sounds of their voices disappeared and they entered the village.
I turned around and immediately started scanning the ground. I could pretty much remember the way we had come. It seemed to be one main pathway. Very rarely did we come across a choice of others, and so with my eyes peeled to the ground, I made my way back deeper into the forest.
Helena and Bobby rushed around backstage, fixing costumes, last-minute broken zippers and tears, going over lines with nervous cast members, and giving final pep talks to a panicked crew. Helena hurried out to her seat in the auditorium beside Joseph before the performance began and finally relaxed for the first time in the last hour.
“Is Sandy not with you?” Joseph asked, looking around.
“No,” Helena said, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at her husband. “She stayed behind in the forest.”
Joseph took his wife’s hand and whispered, “Along the Kenyan coast where I come from, there is a forest called the Arabuko-Sokoke Forest.”
“Yes, you’ve talked about it,” Helena acknowledged.
“There, there are kipepeo girls, butterfly farmers who help keep the forest preserved.”
Helena looked up at him, finally learning the meaning of the nickname. He smiled. “They are known as guardians of the forest.”
“She stayed in the forest to find a photograph of her and Jenny-May. She thinks she dropped it.” Helena’s eyes began to fill and Joseph squeezed her hand.
The curtains on stage parted.
At times I thought I saw the white of the photograph glowing in the moonlight and I would wander off the track to search among the weeds and undergrowth, chasing small birds and creatures away with my flashlight. After half an hour I was sure I should have reached the first clearing by now. I shone the flashlight all around me, looking for something familiar, but it was just trees, trees, and more trees. But then again I had been walking far more slowly and so it would take me longer to get there. I decided to keep walking in the same direction. It was black now, and around me owls hooted and creatures moved in their natural habitat, startled to find me where I didn’t belong. I didn’t plan on being there much longer. I shivered, the cool evening now turning to cold. I shone the flashlight straight ahead, deciding that I’d dropped the photograph closer to Jenny-May’s house than I thought.
“Where am I?” Orla Keane stepped onto the stage as Dorothy Gale, looking around the community hall that, for the night, was a grand theater. Hundreds of faces stared back at her. “What is this strange land?”
Thirty minutes later, sweating, panting, and dizzy from jogging around in different directions, I recognized the first clearing up ahead. I stopped running and leaned over to hold on to a tree, to steady myself and catch my breath. I breathed a sigh of relief and was taken aback by the realization I’d been more anxious about being lost than I’d thought.