Page 57 of His Secret Gift

I want to approach and talk to her, but before I can, Bryant comes over and swings his arm around my shoulders.

“The train station is right this way.”

As we walk, there are a few street vendors selling some of the most beautiful pottery I’ve ever seen.

When I look behind me, I see several crew members stop to look at it—most noticeably, of course, is Kayla. She’s standing with Callie and another steward and observing a piece with clouds on it.

We’re just close enough that I can make out her words.

“My father used to call me Kayla-la-la head in the sky,” she explains while giggling. After that, clouds have always kind of been my thing.

However, I see her face drop when the vendor tells her that it’s five hundred dirhams, or almost $50.

“I can’t justify that. We only just got here!” She tells the woman behind the counter that it’s lovely, but she can’t purchase it.

So, after they move forward, I manage to wriggle free from Bryant’s grasp and sneak away from the group to get it for her.

“Could you wrap it really good?” I ask a man who spoke English to me first.

“Of course, sir.”

When I’m all done paying for it, Bryant is standing and waiting for me.

“What was that about?”

“What?” I play dumb. “I saw something that caught my eye.”

“Oh, okay. Well, let’s get going. The train is going to leave soon.”

We then hurry along to meet the others.

“What’s in the bag?” Jenkins, one of our engineers asks me while looking into it.

“Um. Just something for my—my aunt.”

“I see.”

“Yep. She’s big into African pottery.”

He gives me a funny look. “Interesting.”

“Uh-huh.” I nod.

In the distance, I can see Kayla, and I’m desperate to give her the gift. However, I didn’t really think it all through because I’m not sure how she’ll explain that she has it.

Oh, well.I hope she’s smart enough to keep it to herself.

After getting to the station, finding out train, and giving the man in the navy suit with yellow trimming our tickets, we board and find that the rows consist of four seats facing each other.

“Here we go,” Bryant directs me to a pod with him, Jenkins, and someone whose name I forgot. Although I know he also helps man the boat. “Tyler, let’s let Jack have the window.”

“No, it’s really fine.”Tyler.I’m glad he said that.

When everyone is seated, I listen to the hum of multiple conversations going on at once.

“What are your thoughts on Morocco?” Tyler asks me. He has big, square glasses and spikey, colorless hair.

Bryant gives him a look, but I wave my hand. As I’ve said, this is warranted, given the disinterest I’ve shown to crew members in the past, but that isn’t who I want to be anymore.

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