“Sapphira, why is your bag not packed? Jacob has everybody’s bag, except yours. Please pack your bag as soon as you’ve finished your breakfast.” Papa finishes his scrambled egg on toast and coffee, leaves the room, only to return seconds later, glaring at Sapphira.
“You haven’t even started packing yet. Why?”
“I had to pack Ellie’s bag as well! How long are we going for?” She asks.
“Sapphira, I don’t know. At this moment, nobody knows much about anything. We will go for as long as we need to stay away, for as long as this unrest takes to settle. You have two minutes to pack, so start!”
“A few days, a week, a few months, how long?”  Sapphira is a very persistent future lawyer.
“Sapphira! I’ve just told you I don’t know! It has nothing to do with your packing. We are leaving in less than thirty minutes!”
“Well, how long did the last two uprisings last?”
“The last one lasted for about ten days, the one previous to that, before you were born, lasted about six months. Neither had presidents killed.”
“So, that is an average of ninety five days! I can’t possibly be expected to take one book with me to last for ninety five days! I need my CDs, my player, batteries, all these things. I cannot possibly exist without them!”
“Why did you ask for an MP3 player?” I ask her. “The whole reason for having an MP3 player is so that you can put all your CDs onto one small gadget. It is so much more transportable! Why haven’t you transferred your music? Why ask for something and then not use it? What’s the point?”
“Because I have other things to do as well, you know. Have you seen the number of books I still have to read? When you begin to read as much as I do, you will see that the time needed to transfer music is of much lesser importance!”
“Yes! And now, when you need to have your MP3, it’s empty. Useless. Very, very clever! Very forward thinking! You’ve just lost the case, lawyer Wiggins!”
“Luther! Sapphira! Enough! Time is running out and you two are bickering. Leave Sapphira alone so that she can pack. We are leaving at seven thirty!”

?

My watch shows 07:18. We have phoned Ellie a dozen times, at least, and she tells us each time she is ready and waiting. Papa, Ma and I are bumping into each other as we flit around each room, triple checking that everything is turned off, switched off, all windows have their security screens secured, everything covered and tidy.
Jolene, who has been with us since before I was born, is standing at the kitchen table, wringing her hands, sobbing and sobbing, wiping her tears and her runny nose with her pinafore. Every time I go to the kitchen, she touches my arm and says “Luther, Oh Luther, what is happening, what to do, what to do indeed?”
Sapphira is sitting on the sofa in the darkened room, staring at where the television used to be. Just sitting. Ma calls her to check if the girls’ room is in order.
“Ma, three of you have already checked everything at least a thousand times. All I will be doing is bumping into you and increasing tension. I think it is wiser to remove myself to the Land Rover and settle in there.”

?

Papa is calling us to gather in the lounge. I hold back my tears as I leave my room, backwards. All my worldly possessions are neatly stacked in my room. The neatest my room has ever been for months. Will I ever see them again? Will someone come and steal them or destroy everything? When we return, will I need an upgrade on my computer? What am I going to do without my Wii? I’m going to be sooo bored.
We gather in the lounge. “Where’s Benedict?” we all ask simultaneously. “Jolene, where’s Benedict?”
“Mrs Angel, I thought he was with the family.”
“Oh God! Not again! Not now! Has someone left the gate open? Jacob? Quick! Luther, run outside and find your brother.”
I run across the neatly mown lawn, look to my left and right, to all the beautifully maintained houses in Prestige Street, Scholar’s Close. Funny I should only notice its beauty now; the morning sun opening the roses and border flowers, releasing their fragrance to the morning air. The usual array of vehicles is missing though, as is the early morning greeting of friends. Maybe it is too early for a Saturday morning? Our new gunmetal Land Rover is standing in the driveway, packed and ready. Ma’s red Mercedes Benz Sports stowed in the double garage. Ma’s Mercedes! My God! We have to leave that behind as well? What to do, what to do, indeed! Four houses to my left, Benedict is peddling his tricycle towards his friend’s house. He is reluctant to return home. I tuck him screaming and kicking under one arm and grab hold of his tricycle and run home.
Ma speaks to all of us. “From now onwards, it is all of our responsibility to make absolutely sure Benedict is with one of us at all times – understood? I don’t want avoidable crises. Can we promise?” All heads nod. “And Benedict – we have told you repeatedly to tell us when you leave the house. Everybody else has to do so, you included.”
“Maybe I should tell you where I’m going, yes?”
“Yes Benedict, always tells us.”
Papa clears his throat. Starts to speak, but no sound comes. I have a flashback of assembly one morning last year. Papa was standing on the stage with a notepad in his hand. He did the same then, cleared his throat, started to speak but no sound coming. When eventually he could speak, it was to tell us that Duncan, in year ten, his brother Hugo in year nine, a younger sister called Shelly and their parents had all died in a car accident over the weekend. A truly bad idea to think such lethal thoughts now.
Papa starts speaking again.
“Let us hold hands in prayer. Benedict, please close your eyes. Benedict! Thank you. Dear God. We are so grateful that we are leaving as a family and that we have this home to return to. Keep our love strong no matter what we see or do. We don’t know what awaits us. May we all have the courage to face the hardships that come our way. May we be compassionate. May we retain our integrity at all times. We remain grateful for your Divine protection. Let only love guide us all now, let love keep us together and let us continue to be grateful for all that we have and for all that we are given. Keep ourselves, our loved ones and our home safe until we return. Thank you again and again. Amen.”

?

We are all in the Land Rover, waiting for Papa to lock the front door. Ma is sniffing. Occasionally a sob breaks through. The sky blue paint on the walls is one week old; Jolene hung the new curtains two days ago. Jacob mowed the lawn yesterday. Benedict was born in this house.
“Ma, your Mercedes Sports. In the garage …….”
“Yes, Luther. What is much more important to me right now, is fetching Ellie and getting out of Juxon. New Mercedes Benz sports cars, designer clothes, organic food, vintage wines, boutiques seem like nothing now, compared to all of us reaching safety.”
I nod my head whole-heartedly.
As he locks the door, my father leans his head against the door, his hand on the handle. His whole body shakes. Takes a few deep breaths. The shuddering stops. Why’s he reacting like this? We’re on our way, probably for a few weeks, then back here again. What does he know? What’s he not telling me, us? A few more shudders, this time with a deep sigh. I too am shaking now. Only because he is shaking. He removes the key from the door, looks at it, looks at the door, the front of the house, another huge sigh, puts the key in his pocket. Stays facing the door. Puts both hands over his heart in our deepest greeting. Kelsho; my heart greets your heart; my god welcomes your god. Stands a while like this, shaking occasionally, taking huge slow breaths. Turns towards Jolene and Jacob, says Kelsho to them. Comes towards the car. Great tears are falling down his cheeks. Only now do I allow my tears to fall as well.

?

We wave and wave to Jacob and Jolene until we turn the corner. I’ve known Jolene and Jacob all my life. Jolene, my second mother, nursing me when I am ill, giving me extra helpings of dessert when Ma clearly said no. Always there. Doing whatever I ask of her, practising my charm on her. My family is breaking up. I don’t like this one bit. Not at all.

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