A Player for A Princess

He’s not very tall, but his presence sends Selena running behind her mother’s chair. My friend rises quickly and holds her daughter behind her as she backs toward the wall where their cots are placed.

“Bo a na hasi un trabow!” He crosses the room to my friend, and she starts to scream.

“NO! NO! NO!” She’s wailing, and Selena is screaming with her, holding her arm and crying.

The man shouts back, and the cacophony of noises, violent, shrill, and piercing, cuts through my head, reviving the intense, nauseating pain. My hope and optimism disintegrate as I stagger, practically crawling to my cot.

Tears are in my eyes as I squeeze them shut. Lying down, I pull the skimpy blanket around my head, trying to cover my ears. I hear a struggle in the room, but I’m helpless to intervene. The pain in my head paralyzes me.

Selena is crying. That man is taking her mother away, but I can’t do anything to help them. I can’t even stand. With every beat of my heart, pain flares through my limbs.

I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m hurt, and I miss my sister. I want to go home. I want Cal. I close my eyes and without even trying, the darkness comes.

* * *

When I open my eyes again, it’s morning. Selena is gone, and my friend is on her cot with her back to me. Sunlight fills the space, and from the angle of the light, I think it must be noon. For a moment, I blink around the room. The table is clean, and only the bucket sits there with the gourd beside it. All signs of struggle are gone, and it’s the same as it was when I opened my eyes the first time.

I’m starting to question reality when my bladder tells me I have to pee. Slowly I climb out of the bed and stand straight. The first thing I notice is my head is better. I don’t feel like I’m pitching over the edge of a cliff or I’m about to vomit all over my shoes. I do feel like I’d better get to the baño quick.

Slowly, I go to the door, encouraged that I don’t have to hold the wall to stay upright. I’m getting better… For whatever that’s worth. I have two things going for me: Selena speaks English, and I can actually walk on my own to pee.

I bypass the outhouse of horror and opt for peeing in the bushes behind a tree. As I make my way back to the cinderblock house, I’m able to look around at my location better. Another woman watches me from the window of an identical house as the one we’re in. Her eyes are just like my friend’s—dark and curious.

Pausing for a moment, I give her a little wave. Then I smile. Her expression doesn’t change, but she walks away from the window. Only an empty black hole stares back at me.

A wave of loneliness passes through my stomach, but I dismiss it. Why should any of these women trust me? I don’t know why I’m here, and I’m sure they don’t. If Wade is as cruel to them as he is to me, they’re right to be wary.

Thinking back to last night, I wonder who that angry little man was. I want to know why he came in here and why he upset my friends so much. Entering the room, I pause for a moment, surveying Selena’s mom. She’s still lying on her side facing the wall, but she isn’t covered with a blanket.

It’s not particularly cool or warm, but I decide to return some of the kindness she showed me. Crossing the room, I go to where I assume she’s sleeping and take the thin blanket from the foot of her bed. I’m just about to spread it over her shoulders, when she gasps and turns to face me.

“Kí bo ke!” she shrieks, and I jump back.

“I’m sorry! Sorry!” I say holding my palms out.

I drop the blanket. She’s shivering, and I see now that her face is battered. Her lip is split and dried blood is in the corner of her mouth. My insides twist, and I understand they needed me last night. The man who came here was a bad man, but instead of helping, I was too weak. I hid under the covers when they needed me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, picking up her blanket and putting it on the foot of the bed.

I go to the bucket on the table. Taking the gourd, I fill the bowl and make my way slowly back to where my friend has returned to facing the wall.

“Are you thirsty?” I say, knowing she can’t understand me.

She doesn’t move for a few moments. I wait, looking at the clear water in the bowl and wondering if there might be a way to make it cooler. I know I would’ve preferred cool water when my own face was so beaten.

I’m about to walk away when she moves. She turns onto her back and looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Danki,” she whispers, cupping the gourd with her hands and drinking slowly.

I know that word. I heard it on that old Heidi movie I watched as a kid. Heidi was a little orphan girl from Germany… or Switzerland. Why would they speak German here? I don’t know if any of the islands are owned by Germany. I didn’t even know France owned some until Cal told me. Once again, for the millionth time, I wish I’d stayed in school.

“You’re going to be okay,” I say, trying to encourage her.

She only turns to face the wall again. I have no idea what happened last night, and I don’t even know where I am. Returning to the small table, I put the gourd beside the bucket and force myself to rally.

I’ve been injured. I don’t know where I am, but I’m still Zelda Wilder. If Ava were here, I’d grab her hand and figure it out. Ava’s not here, but I haven’t changed, and I’m not giving up.

Selena will be back this afternoon, and Selena speaks English. I’m going to find out what’s going on here, and I’m going to figure a way out of this. It’s what I do. I might not be Cinderella, but I am a survivor.

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