Crossing the Stream by Elizabeth-Irene Baitie

Author:Elizabeth-Irene Baitie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Norton Young Readers
Published: 2021-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THAT NIGHT ATO WAS BANISHED TO HIS ROOM. “STAY THERE and think!” his mother fumed, thrusting his dinner around the door. “Think about this disgrace you bring to me and to your father’s good name!”

From his refuge beneath his bedcovers, he shivered while pondering the situation. The thought of anyone knowing they had taken the drawing was so frightening, he felt like throwing up. Breaking and Entering sounded bad enough. Taking something was Burglary.

Was he really a channel? Had the spirits made him want to search the Prophet’s office? What else would they make him do? Why did they want to live inside him? He wanted them to go away.

He tried to shut his eyes, to sail away on his falcon wings, but all he could see were mischievous, imp-like spirits, writhing like smoke around his wings, pinning them down. Did he really need deliverance? It sounded like a horrible thing, from what he’d heard. His tortured thoughts kept him awake for hours, but he eventually fell asleep.

The next morning he emerged wearily and cautiously from his room, ready for school. On his face was what he hoped was an expression of deep remorse. It did little to help him. His mother’s feelings had heated to a simmering rage. There was no “We can’t be late today” or “That shirt is crumpled.” Instead she gripped the strap of her handbag as if she wanted to sling it at him.

“Your father would turn in his grave, Ato. His son—a vagabond. Breaking and Entering. That’s how criminal behavior starts. You’re trying to get into Nnoma; your father helped build Nnoma and he got chosen to do it because of his fine character. Now just look at his son. You’ll never get in at this rate!”

A wave of mortification surged through him. His father had really been mistaken about him, thinking he was good enough to follow in his footsteps.

“You will be delivered from whatever is taking hold of you, Ato. Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Friday? He gave a squeak of protest. “B—but I’m going to Nana’s!”

She rapped the top of the dining table once with her palm. “Not this weekend.” And she fluttered into the kitchen to pack their lunch, leaving her bag on the table, along with her car keys—and her phone. His vision zeroed in on it.

Without thinking, he grabbed her phone. His fingers swept down her contact list. There it was: Nana Serwa. He could send her a message. No. Typing would take too long. Mum was still in the kitchen. The fridge door opened and thudded shut. The cupboard door creaked open. He tapped the call button. Silence. More silence. He cursed the sluggish network speed and then—drrr drrr drrr . . .

“Hello, Mina!”

A flood of relief washed through him on hearing Nana’s voice, light and cheerful.

“Nana, it’s Ato,” he whispered hoarsely. “Tomorrow can you please co—”

From the corner of his eye he saw a blur. He whipped his head around. The phone was seized from his hand.

His mother glanced at the phone, shot him a look of fury and raised it to her ear.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.