Eartha

ed feet on the vehicle engine and popped the annoy

d at her luck of a seat p

eat for me, she thought bitterly. That way

g through, took another huge bite of the sugar st

de. Almost immediately, she regretted doing

could amend her gaffe. She looked out from the nameless bo

ng down at the young girl from her nose now

o let herself be bothered by the hurt and disapproval that had been balanced, as precariously as a mouse o

her one more glare and returned h

s had sat back completely, taking up her space with him, so that he could almost touch his angular shoulder to Mother's if he leaned

at, and the last person, beside the vehicle door, was an emaciated sixty-ish old man with cloudy gray-black eyes and a hawkish nose (th

tamp down her blossoming irritation. Did he have

nce that first time he had entered the loading bus

lf from hissing at the

hadn't told Eartha to move over for the agbaiya*, as sh

soused in chicken water before he came to the bus, and his too

emed to have misplaced his comb for a long time now, resulting in the dark, matted clum

in chon phone saved her from remembering

y accented Yoruba. She was seated at the very bac

by the call too, because she dropped

hem of her gray, pinafore dress. If she were a betting person, sh

ed back to Lagos. After all, it was Eartha that had insisted on going to the new school on time, even though Father was out of

lic transport to Ogun State, where her school was. That was after she had first had her scho

nd she knew she couldn't stay a few more days, just to wait for Father to come back from

o school after the first week was over would ruin that for her

be on Father's face when he discover

, instead she always found herself fascinated by them and that always ended in the man loosing all the seriousnes

g, revealing his slight British accent

made a mental note to call

like some akara b

a filling station, and hawkers were already attacking th

re in tow

to her father's half-hearted scolding while barely

' Slight irritation had

by a pair of tiny, dark-skinned hands. Mr Goat-Droppings squelched at his diabetes stick again and her eyes

she said, 'I

e sound of the rickety engine revving up suffici

ully (especially if

d beancakes. A