Page 21 of A Me and You Thing
We haven’t really bonded as a group as of yet. We’re all a little travel-weary at this point. I feel like I’ve made a friend in Abi though. Everyone seems very friendly and I believe we’ll all get along well.
After lunch, we meet at our bus stop, only to find the bus isn’t there yet. Of course not, we’re now living on “Nica Time.” This country is known for being slow and relaxed. I’m all for a slow-paced life and don’t mind the wait. I take a deep cleansing breath and feel stress and anxiety seep out of my body.
At last, the bus arrives and we board for the final leg of our trip. Surprisingly, it’s just us teachers and it’s nice to have the bus to ourselves. No chickens and no plantains to walk over or around. Abi and I move to the back so we can stretch our legs and enjoy the view.
The road from Matagalpa to Jinotega in Nicaragua is known for being quite beautiful and I’m looking forward to witnessing it. The elevation difference between the two cities is around one thousand feet, so it’ll be a bit of a climb.
Here we go...
Part two
While She’s Gone
Chapter Seven
Sawyer
I SET JOSIE down as my cell rings. “Hello.” Josie objects and my mom quickly scoops her up and comforts her.
“Mr. Sawyer Denali?”
“Yes, speaking.”
Jordyn starts to cry next. Charlotte, Quinn’s mom, picks her up before she can even muster a full cry. I don’t know how Quinn does this day in and day out and keeps those two so happy all the time. There’s three of us and two of them, and we’re still feeling outnumbered. Quinn makes it look so easy. But taking care of twins is not for the weak of heart. All the more reason for Quinn to enjoy a little break.
“Mr. Denali, this is Greg Bergstrom from the Teach the World Foundation. May I have a word with you?”
That gets my full attention. I glance at the Grandma Gang and motion toward the stairs. Somehow, they seem to understand that I have to take an important call. I climb the stairs and close myself in my office.
“How may I help you?”
“Mr. Denali, I’m calling about your wife, Quinn Denali. You’re listed on her emergency contact form.”
That gives me pause. “Has there been an emergency?”
“May I ask, are you currently alone?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have any friends or family with you at the moment?”
A sick feeling makes its home in my stomach. “Yes, I do. What’s this about? Is there a problem? Is my wife okay?”
“I’d like to ask you to please take a seat.”
I don’t. I remain standing in the middle of my office feeling unsettled.
“Are you sitting?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just tell me. Is everything okay?”
His pause is long, too long. “No, sir, I’m very sorry. I’m afraid we have some bad news.”
Bad news? My stomach clenches painfully. “What is it?”
The caller clears his throat. “We regret to inform you that there has been an accident, a bus accident. It was the bus our teachers took from Matagalpa to Jinotega. According to our records when the head teacher checked in, all twelve of them were on the bus at the time of the accident.”
The Voice. It’s so monotone, so devoid of emotion, as if someone is in the background coaching him to state the facts, and only the facts. No more, no less.
