Juba Good by Vicki Delany Read Free Book Online

moment. Seemed like Africa would be a nice place to get away from my ex-husbands. I’m almost as vulnerable as you if I’m seen alone with this baby whore.”
    â€œWhore,” Olivia said. “Yes.”
    â€œLet’s go,” Joyce said.
    We snuck around the back rather than cross the compound in the open. Fortunately, it was still early. We didn’t see anyone. The three of us marched into the motor pool. A driver was washing an SUV . Joyce told him she’d found the girl on the street outside. We were taking her to a shelter.
    She pushed Olivia into the back of a Land Cruiser. Then she climbed in beside her.
    I took the passenger seat. The driver said nothing.
    As we drove through town we passed a primary school. Children were gathered in the dusty yard, kicking a soccer ball around. In Africa, any patch of ground and a group of kids means soccer. I’ve seen balls made out of plastic bags and string, bundles of cloth, even shredded car tires. The one these kids were playing with was white and black. A real ball. The children wore school uniforms. Gray trousers and white shirts for the boys. Gray and black tunics over white shirts for the girls. The air might be full of red dust, but the uniforms were clean and well-kept. Parents who could afford school fees were determined to do the best for their kids.
    The playing children burst into cheers. A boy ran across the yard, his arms in the air. His smile just about split his face.
    I glanced in the back. Joyce was also looking out the window. She watched the laughing, playing children. She reached out and lightly stroked Olivia’s hair.
    Joyce took Olivia into the shelter for street children. I waited in the car.
    Joyce soon came back. Alone.
    We returned to the UN compound in silence. The schoolyard was empty. We could see rows of dark heads through the classroom windows.
    â€œThanks,” I said as we walked to our containers.
    â€œYou’ve got an enemy, Ray. When men get to butting antlers, I stay out of the way. Your enemy used a little girl. I don’t like that.”
    â€œIt might turn out well for Olivia after all. She’s better off in the home.”
    â€œFor now. She’ll be back on the streets soon enough. They can’t keep them all, you know. There are too many girls without families. Too many blokes, white and black, ready to take advantage of that. And they wonder why I’ve gone off men.”
    She punched me in the arm. It hurt. I didn’t want to look like a wimp by rubbing at it. “You’re okay, Robertson. If this comes back to bite you, I’ll back you up.”
    She crossed the thin weedy grass to her own container. Her steps strong and determined, her head straight. I was glad Joyce was in my corner.
    I’d almost forgotten about my sore ankle. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain was returning. With it, a black rage.
    Someone had tried to frame me. A couple of pictures sent to my bosses in Canada. Me leaving my room with an underage girl in the early hours. I could deny it until the cows came home. They might believe me. But the stench would linger for a very long time.
    They didn’t even need to send the pictures. Just knowing they were out there might be enough to have me minding my own business.
    I ripped the sheets off my bed. I bundled them into the laundry basket. I remade the bed with clean ones.

Chapter Thirteen
    Sleep didn’t come. I lay awake wondering who had it in for me.
    As a warning, it was a good one. No injuries, no violence. Just a message. Joyce had tried asking Olivia who’d brought her here. The girl didn’t understand. Wouldn’t have helped anyway. She wouldn’t have been able to describe him with any accuracy. “They all,” Joyce said, “look the same to these girls.”
    Since coming here, I hadn’t made any enemies. Far as I knew. No one had ever tried a stunt like that on me or anyone else.
    It had to