suddenly shot out her hand and gripped his. “Well dumela, then Ollie! My name is Zinzi.” She grinned at him.
Oliver fumbled. It seemed odd to shake a girl’s hand.
“By the way, men and women don’t normally shake hands. So a boy mustn’t reach out for a woman’s hand. It’s impolite.”
“In England, it’s impolite for a boy not to shake a woman’s hand.”
Zinzi laughed. “Customs are different here! Come on then, Ollie. Let’s get going. Here comes the train.”
There was a smell of hot metal and burning coal as the gigantic engine came hissing and snorting into the station like a bellowing buffalo, stampeding hot clouds of steam that swallowed up the crowds on the platform.
A real stream train! He’d never been on a steam train.
The platform was chaotic. People with luggage of all shapes and sizes balanced on their heads and tucked under their arms were pushing and shoving their way between people trying to sell oranges, cigarettes and bars of soap, and rattling and dangling plastic toys and coat hangers in everyone’s faces.
Zinzi hauled out a ticket from the pocket of her shorts. “I’m carriage 2749. Compartment B. What about you?”
Ollie glanced at his ticket and nodded. “Me too.”
“Good. They must’ve put us together because we’re travelling alone.”
Zinzi ran alongside the carriages examining the tickets stuck in holders next to the windows. She shouted back. “Here we are! Stay on the platform while I hop on board. Then pass my stuff up to me.”
“All of it?” Ollie looked at the huge heap of boxes and crates.
Zinzi leaned out of a window. “Careful how you handle that big one. It’s heavy. Don’t let the catch open.”
As he heaved it onto his shoulder, Ollie suddenly came face to face through a layer of mesh, with the biggest snake he had ever seen.
“A snake!” He almost dropped the crate.
“Don’t worry. It’s a small one.”
“Small?”
Zinzi nodded. “Small by python standards.”
Ollie gulped and handed over the crate as fast as he could. “You mean it’s a real python?”
“Well it’s not made of plastic.” And then she laughed. “Don’t worry. It’ll sleep all the way. I fed him a huge rat before I left school. Pythons are lazy after they’ve eaten.”
“Is it poisonous?”
Zinzi shook her head. “Pythons aren’t poisonous. They just squeeze you to death.”
Ollie swallowed hard. Of all things, why did it have to be a snake?
“Hurry up! You’re going to miss the train.”
He hesitated. Perhaps he could ask for another compartment. It was odd in any case to have to share with a girl. But there wasn’t time. He might miss the train. And his aunt’s message had been clear. He was to meet her at Kasane.
He climbed the rungs at the end of the carriage. A sharp, sour smell of coal-dust, hot metal and disinfectant pinched his nostrils as he squeezed past the toilet and the people in the narrow corridor.
Then he froze.
The snake crate was standing in the middle of the tiny space of the compartment.
“It’s okay. You can come in. There’s a catch on the crate. It can’t escape.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Whew! It’s a bit crowded.” Zinzi slid the compartment door closed and began pushing bags and boxes under the bottom bunk and onto the metal racks overhead.
Ollie watched as she pushed the python crate under the bunk as well. “Aren’t you going to check the catch?”
“What d’you take me for?”
Ollie shrugged. “Just asking.”
Ollie slid his eyes away from it to look about. On one side of the compartment were two bunks covered in shiny, green leather with saggy places where too many people had sat. Tucked into a corner was a table with a hinged cover and a leather strap. When he lifted the cover, he discovered a tiny, stainless-steel basin with a single tap beneath. Above was a narrow mirror and to one side, a sliding window with a blind that snapped up and down.
Everything he touched had a gritty coal-dust feeling.
There was a commotion on the platform as doors slammed shut. Then with a sharp whistle and an extra stamp of steam, the train began to move slowly out of the station.
Ollie pushed down the window and leaned out as far as he could. Good job Grandma wasn’t here to see. He waved through the billowing steam to no one in particular.
Goodbye! Goodbye Bulawayo!
Faces and colours blurred together and then stopped abruptly as the platform ended. The train picked up speed and raced past some dark sheds. Broken windows flashed and flickered coded messages in the sunlight.
Finally they were out in the open. Not a single building in sight, just the tangled bush and thorn trees slipping past in a grey blur. The click of the wheels over the joints in the winding, criss-crossing tracks seemed to be singing …
We’re going to I-la-la. We’re going to find your fa-ther.
We’re going to I-la-la. We’re going to find your fa-ther.
Ollie gave a huge sigh. At last! He was truly on his way.
His adventure had begun.
Hot, dry air full of coal soot rushed past his face and made his eyes sting and water. He slammed the window shut.
Zinzi was standing with her feet apart, balancing to the sway of the train. “Which bunk? Top or bottom?”
Ollie glanced at the snake crate sticking out from beneath the bottom bunk. “Top.”
Zinzi nodded. “Top is great. It’s like sleeping in a tree. The train rocks you.”
“Where will Bobo sleep?”
“She’s nocturnal. She’ll jump about. But if you bury your head under your pillow she won’t bother you. D’you have a pet?”
Ollie nodded. “Two stick insects.”
Zinzi looked as if she had just choked on a large sweet. “Stick insects!”
Ollie bit his lip. “We don’t have monkeys in England. And stick insects are … uh … interesting …” was all he could think of. But Zinzi was already beetling about pushing boxes around.
“Are
