Sprigs from Ice

Part One// 11. Buoyant

Thirty minutes after the tablet had finally run out of battery, the Airbus touched down and taxied toward Terminal 5 before finally coming to a stop. The lights for the seatbelts came on, and everyone released a sigh of relief, rising from their seats and reaching for the overhead lockers.

I'd been awake since we took off from Kotoka, alternating between focusing on the youth and development chapter in my social studies textbook, and staring out the window as we crossed the Atlantic, a vast desert of blue waves with the occasional dot on it that might've been a ship or an oil rig. It didn't take much effort to doze off once the Uber mum ordered arrived, taking us out of Heathrow and London, south towards Oxford.

We'd been booked into a suite at a hotel not too far from the University, and mum explained that several professors and Ph.D holders like herself would be lodging here for the conference. I tried to sound interested, but jetlag was unforgiving as I battled drowsiness, all the while being lectured on the conduct expected of me when I met her colleagues this evening.

Thankfully, Accra was only one hour behind, and Astrid replied immediately when I texted her that we'd arrived safely.

i_am_astrid: Thank God. Remember to send pictures. I also want souvenirs when you return so I can show them off.

tricia_diabene: Of course. I've got you covered.

The hotel offered a stunning array of continental dishes, but disappointment met me when I saw no kenkey or waakye offered on the menu. The only familiar dish was pasta, so that's what I selected.

At our table, I met most of mum's former colleagues from her days of working at the University, and was drilled in matters regarding my plans post-high school. Of course they were all familiar with Kevin, and the pressure was definitely mounting when I was encouraged to apply to Oxford, like it was something easy to do.

"The engineering programs here are very robust, with a vast range of subjects you'll be impressed with." An Indian man encouraged, his accent a mix of Hindi and British. He held a glass of champagne in one hand while fixing me with a curious glance.

"Kevin did very well during his time here, did he not? I'm told he's at La Sorbonne now, pursuing his post-graduate studies?"

"Quite right. I ran into him recently while I was in Paris for my research. Such a bright lad! And he seems to have gone far beyond any aspirations we may have set for him. You must be very proud of your son, Danielle."

"I am." And she was. Pride might as well have been the perfume she wore tonight. "I'm proud of both my children. It's been a challenging road so far, but I know they'll make it in the end."

One woman with auburn hair and a face full of freckles adjusted her glasses while she smiled at me. "From what I hear, it seems that you are well-suited to do engineering. All you need is to find a world-class institution to pursue your goals at, and then you'll be an indispensable addition to your father's company. Wonderful, isn't it?"

Five different pairs of eyes riveted to me, five intellectuals with incredible standings in their respective fields through no small amount of hardwork, five of mum's peers I couldn't afford to embarrass her in front of. Mum was smiling at me, a bright display of pearly whites that should've been in a toothpaste advertisement. I'd known her all my life to be able to tell that behind the apparent joy in her eyes, there was also a warning. I felt my stomach drop.

I'd crossed one line already.

Mustering a proud smile of my own, I said, "My parents and I are currently discussing my options for university. I'm sure Oxford is one of their top choices for me, and I would love to study here for the next four years. Engineering is just an added bonus."