Page 86 of Bastard
A man up front waves his hand in the air.
“Yes?”
“In American movies, they always rip it open with their teeth.”
“Hollywood.” I roll my eyes. “Your teeth can puncture the condom then sperm can pass through. It’s important to open then roll the condom on correctly.”
I demonstrate.
The men nod with understanding.
I spend the next fifteen minutes distributing foil-wrapped condoms and answering additional questions. My entire life I’ve had this strange effect on men. So, it’s ironic that, in a situation when sex is the topic, I’m treated with nothing short of respect. They too understand the world is a better place when we lift each other up.
I glance toward the sky and heaven above. My parents knew this to be true, and now so do I.
When I lower my gaze, it lands on one man.
Hayden.
He’s leaning against the baobab tree, arms folded, expression serious, attention fixed on me. He’s returned early. How long has he been standing there?
Energy rolls like lightning across the space separating us. The foil in my hand crackles from within my grip. I swallow hard.
He wants you.
A cackle draws my attention to the woman beside me, who has been handing out condoms a few feet away. Mustafa gestures emphatically, waving me off the stage. Her get-yourself-going gesture leaves no doubt that she’s spotted him as well.
“Please pass the word about this important topic,” I say to the crowd still assembled. “Goodnight, everyone.”
But when I glance back at the baobab tree, Hayden is gone.
I bite my lip. Unpacking? I hope so.
Mustafa rushes over. “What are you waiting for, girl? Tonight is a full moon. Listen carefully, and you will hear the magpies singing.”
I pause to listen. Sí. Birds are stirring off in the distance.
“Go on, Luciana. That husband of yours is back and all the signs are there.”
I sigh. “Signs for what, exactly?”
“Something tells me he is about to turn your life upside down.”
He already has.
She nudges me with her hip, forcing me to step forward. How many cups of maheu has she consumed tonight? “The look on his face while you were on stage. Girl, I will see you tomorrow. Because that man is going to be on you like a sunbird on a spring flower.”
I head back to our hut, her words leaving me light-headed.
And hopeful. So damn hopeful she’s right.
32
My throat goes dry at the sight of him, sitting on the bed in the dark, feet on the floor, thighs spread, focus narrowed on me.
From across the hut, that inexplicable pull between us feels stronger than ever.
“You’re back early.”
