The trip to the lavatory on the coach was like a tiny vacation. After doing my business I sat for a few minutes just enjoying the reprieve from being around so many unfamiliar faces. It was easy for me to feel exhausted from being around other people. Being evacuated already felt like one unending conveyor belt of new faces and very little opportunity for some time alone. Although I had napped I still very much wanted to get more sleep.
I got up from the seat, pulled my PJ bottoms up, and then washed my hands. In front of me was a small mirror. For a moment I took in my reflection. My blue eyes, short brown hair, round face. Eighteen years old but looking around fourteen since I'd always had a baby face, and a voice not far off that too. I looked away from my reflection as if disappointed by it and made my way back to my seat.
Murmured conversation had started among the teenagers aboard the coach. This made it feel more like a field trip than an evacuation. I took my seat beside the girl with the very short cut hair. She was looking out the window and eating one half of her tuna and sweetcorn sandwich. She slipped something into her sweatpant pocket but I couldn't see what it was.
My confusion over what sex she was must have ticked her off because she didn't acknowledge my presence after I sat down. The coach journey continued on. I couldn't hear any of the other conversations going on around me beyond murmuring, so I just let the motion of the coach ease me off to sleep again.
When I woke up I was sure it was much later in the day, around late afternoon. Ominous gray clouds loomed without any breaks in the sky overhead, making it feel later in the day than it was. The coach eased into a parking space at a service station, gave one final jerk, then came to a complete stop.
The African Pied Piper officer stood up at the front of the coach and blew a whistle to get everyone's attention. "Listen up," he said, "We are stopping here for petrol. If you want to get out to stretch your legs for ten minutes, do so. But you cannot be more than five meters away from the coach. Do not try to go anywhere because there will be serious repercussions."
Starting from the front row everyone filed off the coach. I didn't particularly feel like stretching my legs, but it seemed easier just to go with the flow. It started to spit rain just as I stepped off the last coach step onto the parking lot concrete. I could see a sign for fast food places, a coffee shop, a pizza restaurant, and a shop to buy books and other small items. Without any money on me it wasn't as if I could buy anything.
Some of the teenagers continued their conversations outside. I considered standing beside the girl with the close-shaved head, but she had already walked off a few paces. Somehow she must have found someone to give her a lighter, because she had one in her hands and was lighting a cigarette. She took a drag and I could see the visible relief she received from the nicotine hit. I'd never smoked in my life, once my Dad had left one of his cigarettes still lit in an ashtray and I had touched the lit end. The pain of that moment had stuck with me for years and, maybe, had made me have a small aversion to smoking. That, and probably because people who smoked typically started because of peer pressure. I didn't have friends to peer pressure me into smoking, so I was never tempted to start.
I turned my attention to a cute little red robin that was bobbing along on the grass just beyond the parking lot. Just looking at it made me smile. They reminded me of Christmas. There was this cute little robin going about its day doing cute little robin things. Nobody else seemed to be paying the robin any attention. I'd taken the bag of food the Pied Piper officer had given me when filing off the coach. I dug inside the bag, unwrapped the sandwich from its plastic wrapping, and pinched a piece of bread from it. I flicked the bread piece over to the robin. To my delight it took the piece and flew off.
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I became aware of the commotion behind me a few seconds later than everyone else. Someone screamed, and others started calling for help. I turned to see a throng of teenagers crowded around someone nearby.
"Officer help!" one of the teenage girls cried out.
The African Pied Piper Officer as well as the Pied Piper officer with the slicked back black hair, hurried over to the group.
"Move!" the African Pied Piper officer shouted, pushing teenagers out of the way.
It was the shaved-head girl. She was on her hands and knees with her hand at her throat. She was choking on something. My stomach lurched at the sight of her agonized face trying and failing to breathe. Something caught my attention to my right, and I saw something which made me flinch.
Three teenagers, two boys and a girl, were disappearing into a nearby bush. The last of them to go through, one of the boys, a black boy, looked back and met my gaze. Locking eyes with him almost made me want to call out, if only to acknowledge that I could see him. As if sensing that I might give away what they were doing, the boy put a finger to his lips in a 'shh' gesture.
I stayed utterly still just in case any movement of mine might give the three teenagers away. The boy turned and followed the other two into the bush and, presumably, to the other side which was out of sight of the Pied Piper officers.
The sound of strained breathing drew my attention back to the shaved-head girl. She was gasping for air now, but rapidly getting ahold of herself. The African Pied Piper officer had his hand slapping her back as if that might be the key to helping her breathe. There was a wad of what looked like a mound of saliva and bread on the floor; presumably what the shaved-head girl had been choking on.
The panic passed. The shaved head girl seemed bashful about causing a scene and had handwaved a few attempts by other teenagers to ask how she was.
"Everyone," said the African Pied Piper officer a few minutes later, "When I call your name get back onto the coach."
Names were called out one after the other and each teenager returned to their seat on the coach. That is, until the eleventh name was called.
"Fumi Adesanya."
No answer. No movement. The African Pied Piper officer called the name again. After the third attempt he reached for his walkie talkie and started speaking into it like it had insulted his good name.
"Mouse missing," he said, "Mouse missing."
In less than a minute the convoy, the black van and the two pied piper officers on motorbikes, set off from the parking lot with sirens wailing. The rest of the names were called out and everyone was accounted for save for Ashley Charie and Jade Beatty. What glimmer of niceness there might have been from the Pied Piper officers was replaced by an almost authoritarian order for everyone to get back onto the coach. I hurried up the wet steps, being careful not to slip. It came as a small relief to be back in my seat. Shaved-head girl was already in hers.
She looked calmer, the red that was in her face gone. She looked out the window. More Pied Piper officers, as well as regular police officers, were showing up in vehicles. What I had thought might be a short delay continued on three hours. The spitting rain before had become torrential, falling so thick and heavy I could hardly see the police vehicles which surrounded the coach and the dozen or more officers busily going about their duties. It was oddly nice seeing the red and blue lights against the rain spattered window.
A part of me was afraid that I might get in trouble. I had a chance to call out the teenagers that had run away, but I had decided not to give them up. Would the Pied Piper officers check the CCTV on the coach? Would they see I hadn't done anything to stop the three that had run off?
My stomach felt tight from the anticipation that at any moment I could be in some serious trouble. The rational part of my mind told me that it would be fine. What was there really to be guilty for? What would the consequences be if I were in trouble? It wasn't as if the Pied Piper officers were allowed to use brute force on us…right?
I heard a sigh to my right. Shaved-head girl had taken off her trainers. For someone that had almost choked to death she seemed oddly at ease with herself. She looked to me, smirked a little, then looked away.