Fly Away Home by Vanessa Del Fabbro

Author:Vanessa Del Fabbro
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2008-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Mandla stepped out of the airplane into the crisp California air, his arms spread wide as though he were a dignitary arriving to cheers and banners.

“Now we’ll see where movies are made,” he said.

In the rental car on the way to their hotel, he identified a number of locations where movies had been filmed. Monica had no idea whether he was correct or not, but she was pleased to see him excited.

Sipho wore a black T-shirt with the name of a rock band she had never heard of, given to him by Connor. As soon as he’d climbed into the rental car, he’d put on a pair of sunglasses, another gift from Connor.

Zak was not used to driving on the right-hand side of the road, but the rental car had automatic transmission, so at least he didn’t have to remember to change gears with his right hand instead of his left. And most of the trip was on the freeway, which also made it easier. The hotel, only a short distance from the theme park, provided a shuttle service for guests, but they planned to use the rental car to drive up Highway 1 as far as Monterey, where Sipho wanted to visit the famous aquarium.

Halfway to the hotel, they stopped at a sprawling mall for Mandla to use the bathroom.

“You can use one there,” said Monica, pointing to a coffee shop that was nearly deserted.

Monica asked for directions to the bathroom from a young man wrapping silverware behind the counter.

“The restroom is for customers only,” he told Monica, not looking up. “Buy something and you can use it.”

“My son will only be a minute,” she replied.

“Order something and he can use it.”

“I’ve got to go,” whined Mandla.

“You go,” Monica told him. “I’ll buy a coffee from this gentleman.” She did not bother to disguise her sarcastic tone.

When Mandla came out of the restroom Monica was still waiting for her coffee to be poured.

“I’ve paid three dollars fifty, so we might as well wait,” she told him.

Zak and Sipho had wandered next door to look at the computers in the window of an electronics store.

“Three dollars fifty to use the bathroom!” exclaimed Mandla. “How many rand is that?”

“About twenty-five.”

“We can get five milk shakes at Mama Dlamini’s for twenty-five rand.” He turned to the man who was putting a lid on Monica’s coffee. “How can you stop a little boy from using the bathroom—I mean restroom?”

Monica touched his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she murmured.

Mandla shrugged her hand off. “No, it’s not.”

The man looked at Mandla with a bemused smile.

“Everybody told me Americans were friendly, but you’re not.”

The man’s smile slid from his face. “Listen, brat. Store policy is store policy. Now clear out of here.”

“Don’t call me a brat,” said Mandla, raising his voice.

Monica noticed a customer behind them, listening intently.

“Shh, let’s go now,” she said. “I don’t need his coffee.”

Mandla turned his back on the man behind the counter and addressed the handful of customers in the shop. “You should all find somewhere else to buy your coffee.

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