“There have been some sightings of
baboons on campus. There is no need for alarm, but please be advised to not
approach them. Please dispose of your garbage, especially your food waste,
properly.” Our teacher read while leaning his hand on his hip.
“Seriously?” He shook his head and ripped
the announcement in half. “I don’t understand how this baboon fiasco’s still
going on. I didn’t even know they had this many baboons in Kenya. They should just shoot those things if
they’re that much of a problem.” Some of the girls in class gasped.
“I wonder what baboons taste like?” Carl
leaned back in his chair and whispered. I slapped the back of his head.
“Dude, the trash can’s full! Throw it
out!” Carl yelled while he swept the floor of our room.
“It’s your turn! You throw it!” I waved
him off as I finished making my bed. It was ten minutes before classes started
and we hadn’t even finished sweeping the room floor.
“Matt, don’t be a drag, I’m sweeping
here!” Carl waved his broom in the air.
“You’ve got to set your alarm earlier!” I
started to pack my bag.
“Dorm parents aren’t going to be happy
with us,” Carl leaned down to sweep the collected dust into a dustpan.
“They aren’t going to be happy with YOU.”
“Such a prick.” Carl grabbed the trashcan
and stomped out.
“Dude, remember to put it in the green
trash can outside, don’t put it in the normal ones! There’s a whole bunch of
leftover crap in it!” I called out across the hallway. I saw Carl raise a
finger with his free hand.
As I made my way back to my dorm after
school, I heard rattles coming from the back of the building. I walked around
the corner and noticed a large trashcan shaking violently. I leaned down to
pick up a pebble and threw it into the can. The moment I threw the pebble, a
baboon leapt out, banana peels, orange peels, and leftover pizza crusts glued
to its hair. It ran up a nearby tree and disappeared into the branches. I
turned to go, until I heard a branch break. I swirled around instantly, just in
time to catch the baboon bound in midair, over the barbed wire, and into
another tree just beyond. I went
back to the trashcan from where the baboon had leapt out. In the midst of
crumpled paper, dust clods, broken glassware, I spotted my last night’s Thai
chicken, or at least what the baboon had failed to finish off.
We
all knew the cafeteria lady got fired. The food started to taste better. But we
also noticed few of the old workers replaced by new ones. Old Abraham, who used
to sneak out the back to meet us and hand us some leftover meat for 200
shillings, was missing. So was Fat John, who always was too busy sucking grease
off of his fingers. I guess they were finally caught throwing food waste just
outside the school fences. At first I didn’t understand why the cafeteria lady
was also fired, along with two guards as well. They never explained in the
announcements or during chapel. They simply said the following people were let
go for not fulfilling their positions faithfully. That’s when I asked Chris;
his dad was the superintendent. We were walking towards the cafeteria.
“Apparently
she’d been swiping money off the food budget,” he said.
“What’s
that mean?” asked Zach.
“Means
she’s been stealing money, dummy,” Carl snorted.
“That’s
why the food always tasted so bad,” I chuckled.
“Nah,
I thought that was it too at first,” Chris replied. We all moved in a little
closer.
“Apparently
she hasn’t been calling the compost guys for a while.”
“What
does that have to with anything?” Zach leaned back out and clicked his tongue in
annoyance.
“Cause
it costs to call them every time, genius!” Chris shot a quick frown.
“Don’t
they have to record when the comp guys come in and stuff?” I asked.
“That,”
Chris shook a finger in front of him, “Is where there the guards come in. They
were rigging the time slots and stuff so that it looked like they were calling
the comp guys on a regular basis.”
“Dude,
it couldn’t have cost that much to call the trucks in, could it?” I scratched
my forehead and flicked my wrist away.
“Enough
that they thought it was worth throwing the food crap over the fence for,”
Chris shook his head.
As
I pulled the cafeteria door open, a picture rose in my mind. It was only a few
days before; I was jogging again around campus when I saw Old Abraham throwing
a black plastic bag over the fence. I didn’t think much of it then. I didn’t
know what was in the bag, but as I neared it, my nose urged me to jog faster. If
he was going to throw something away, he should have sealed it better. I jogged
past the same spot a few days later, except the contents were now spilled from
the ripped bag. I slowed down to see what it was, but my nose screamed again to
jog faster. A glimpse told me it looked like rotting meat. Maybe that was why
there was a school-wide stomach epidemic.
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