Elder McKinley hummed a soft, tuneless melody under his breath, unable to totally resist the urge to tap his feet on the tiles beneath the kitchen table. He and Nabulungi Hatimbi were presently hard at work decorating sugar cookies for the mini-celebration he had decided to hold that night, to commemorate the Elders' half-year anniversary of starting missionary work. Normally Elder McKinley would be more judicious about rationing their (terribly meager) food allowances, but given that they'd managed to make it six months in Kitguli without anyone dying horribly (hooray!), he'd figured that was enough of an excuse to treat them all to something nice. Plus Nabulungi had never gotten to bake cookies before, so Elder McKinley had invited her to join him, as a kind of fellow Mormon bonding experience.
"What do you think?" Nabulungi asked as she held up a cookie for Elder McKinley to inspect, her fingers sticky with sugar residue. It was a golden-brown, heart-shaped crisp of a cookie, smeared with just the right amount of purple frosting and dappled with pink and white sprinkles.
"You're very good, considering it's your first time," Elder McKinley remarked, holding up his own perfectly frosted cookie for display. "I've actually had to ban some of the Elders from the kitchen, because they'd always make too much of a mess." Nabulungi smiled and gingerly picked up another cookie from the tray to start frosting.
Elder McKinley rather liked Nabulungi, whom all of the Elders in District Nine had lately come to regard as a sort of honorary missionary. She could be found hanging out quite frequently at the missionary hut these days, whether it was lounging on the couch listening to one of Elder Cunningham's outlandish stories, discussing finer points of Mormonism with Elder Price, laughing at one of Elder Church's jokes, or even playing paddle-ball with a couple of the other missionaries. Some days she would come running in through the front door, breathless and bright-eyed, with a new idea for a pageant for all of them to put on, and she and Elder McKinley would spend a joyful few hours poring over costume designs and planning out the music and choreography. On top of all that, she was an excellent dancer, and Elder McKinley immediately considered anyone who liked dancing as much as he did a kindred spirit.
This afternoon, though, he couldn't help but notice that Nabulungi had been unusually quiet for the past hour – or more accurately, ever since she'd arrived at their hut, after taking a stroll through the village with Elder Price and Elder Cunningham that morning. Usually whenever she and Elder McKinley chatted she would be quite unreserved, enthusiastically sharing updates about the latest happenings in the village (who was fighting with whom, who were about to get married, who had just delivered a new baby). Or sometimes she'd tell him her ideas of ways they could help promote sexual health education for young people in the community, which was a new cause that she had recently decided to pursue (and a subject that, admittedly, went way over Elder McKinley's head).
But today she had said very little in the way of conversation – other than a question here or there regarding the cookie-baking process, or an idle remark about this week's agenda – and that, Elder McKinley thought, was a tad worrying. Occasionally she would look out the window and sigh heavily, her face clouding over with a distant, melancholy expression.
"Is there something wrong, Sister?" he asked gently, after an overly prolonged lull in the conversation. Nabulungi looked up at him, her large eyes widening in confusion. "I'm sorry, it's just that you seem a bit...mellow."
"It is...nothing important," she replied, shrugging her shoulders with a somewhat unconvincing nonchalance.
The next few minutes passed with another awkward stretch of silence, and Elder McKinley went on lathering frosting onto more cookies, not saying another word. Then Nabulungi spoke again, her voice soft and hesitant. "Can you keep a secret, Elder?"
"Of course." Elder McKinley believed that he was very good at keeping things secret. For the most part.
Nabulungi pushed aside her plate of cookies and steepled her fingers over the tabletop. "There's a boy that I like, Elder...and I'm not sure if he likes me in the same way."
Ah. Elder McKinley frowned. He definitely knew that feeling...entirely too well.
"We-ell...I'm not really the best person to go to for relationship advice," he said, choosing his words carefully. Okay, that was probably a bit of an understatement. But Nabulungi seemed to be looking for guidance, and it was, after all, his Mormon duty to help people in need. After a short, apprehensive pause he added, "But...maybe I could help you if I knew just who he was."
Nabulungi mulled this over for a minute, toying with the dark curls of her hair. "All right, here is a hint. He is very cute."
"I'm afraid that doesn't really tell me anything," Elder McKinley chuckled.
"He lives here, with you," Nabulungi continued, lowering her eyes slightly. The barest hint of a blush crept over her face. "He is the most amazing person I've ever met. It's like...even when we are surrounded by others, he is the only one in the place I see, and nothing else matters." She looked back up at the Elder, her brown eyes deeply insinuating. "You must have an idea who I am talking about. There is only one person here like that, I think."
Elder McKinley took a moment to reflect on her words, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. One specific person did spring to mind who would fit that description, at least for him...
"Er, would he happen to be someone who joined us relatively recently?"
Nabulungi nodded, propping herself forward over the table on her elbows and looking at him beseechingly. "So? Do you think I have a chance?"
Elder McKinley gave Nabulungi an appraising once-over. From a purely objective standpoint, there was no denying that she was extremely pretty, as well as kind and thoughtful and driven. Her eyes shimmered spectacularly when she smiled, and altogether she reminded him of the princesses he'd often seen in storybooks when he was a child. He couldn't imagine how any boy around there – well, any boy who was attracted to women, anyway – wouldn't take an interest, given the opportunity.
Deep down he could feel his heart inexplicably sinking a little, but he patted Nabulungi's hand reassuringly and made his best attempt at a genuine smile. "I think you have a very good chance, Sister."
Nabulungi smiled back at him. "I'm happy you think so." She leaned in closer, until she was inches away from his face, and whispered, "Because it's Elder Cunningham."
She sat back and blushed, clapping her hands over her quietly giggling mouth.
Elder McKinley blinked. "Oh! Of course it is," he exclaimed, trying to keep the sudden sense of relief out of his voice. Come to think of it, she and Elder Cunningham did seem to spend an awful lot of time together. It made perfect sense, in retrospect.
"You agree, right? Our prophet is so wise...and compassionate...and graceful..." Nabulungi folded her hands in her lap and uttered a dreamy, rather wistful sigh.
Elder McKinley couldn't help but flashback to that morning, when a very sleepy, bed-headed Elder Cunningham had accidentally tumbled into him in the hallway and nearly bowled him over. He winced.
"...and he has done so much for the village, and he makes me laugh, which Mama always said was a good quality in a man," Nabulungi continued gushing, seeming almost unable to stop now that she'd started. "The other day we held hands as he walked me home, and it felt magical, Elder." Elder McKinley smiled and "aww"-ed, briefly clutching at his heart.
"But sometimes...when we are alone together, he starts stuttering and talking very fast, and then he runs away." Nabulungi frowned. "What do you think that means, Elder?"
"Well, what I know is that Elder Cunningham has become a very dear friend of mine...and judging from the way I've heard him talk about you, I'm sure that he likes you as well and is just too nervous to say anything," Elder McKinley said warmly, touching her arm. "Maybe you should try approaching him first, to tell him how you feel."
Nabulungi beamed, looking heartened by his words. "So. How do you tell a boy that you like him?"
Elder McKinley hesitated. "Well...um..."
She tilted her head thoughtfully and tapped her chin with her finger. "What if I sent him a text?"
"No, no, you should definitely not tell him that way." Elder McKinley tried to appeal to every cheesy romantic comedy he had seen (and secretly loved) in the past few years for guidance, as personal experience was most definitely failing him in this regard. He had a feeling the old mantras of "just turn it off" and "lock your heart" were not going to be appreciated here – Nabulungi didn't seem to be a huge fan of handling such matters the conventional Mormon way. Well, he supposed the alternative would be to advocate the complete opposite of what he'd been taught all his life, as foreign and unnatural as it still seemed to him.
"My advice is to just be bold and upfront about it. Seize the day and all that," he suggested finally, gesturing emphatically with his hands. "Be honest and sincerely express to him how you...um...how you really feel..."
He trailed off and abruptly straightened up in his chair – the reason being that Elder Price had just walked into the kitchen, lightly whistling with his hands in his pockets.
"Hey, guys," said Elder Price cheerily as he passed their table, inclining his head towards them in acknowledgement. One of Elder McKinley's hands automatically darted up to discreetly adjust the knot of his tie and smooth out the creases in his shirt. "Elder. Sister."
"Hello, Elder Price," they chimed back in unison, then giggled at the way their voices accidentally fell into sync.
Elder Price opened the door of the fridge and started pouring himself a glass of water.
"Where is your companion?" Nabulungi asked, glancing towards the doorway.
"Outside, still talking to his little fan club. We ended up performing some more baptisms today," said Elder Price, punctuating his words with a small fist pump. "I just came in to get a drink – it's so hot out." As if for emphasis, he started tugging at his collar and loosening his brightly-colored tie (a loan from Elder McKinley's collection), as well as undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. Elder McKinley's attention was momentarily diverted to the sliver of bare collarbone this action exposed (goodness, was he not wearing his garments?).
"You always look really hot," Elder McKinley suddenly breathed out, without thinking. "Because of – you know – the heat," he clarified, looking down at his hands.
"Uh, yeah, I guess..." Elder Price gave him a funny look as he sipped his water.
"You will get used to it," Nabulungi said, smiling. Elder Price shrugged in response, appearing skeptical, but he perked up after spotting the plate of freshly frosted cookies resting by Elder McKinley.
"Ooh, cookies," he exclaimed as he walked on over to their table, already reaching for the plate. "Can I have one?"
"Those are for tonight, Elder Price," Elder McKinley said sharply, swatting the other boy's hand away. He lifted his chin, hoping that it came off as sufficiently stern and authoritative. "You'll have to wait, just like everybody else."
"Not even if I ask really nicely?" Elder Price asked, clasping his hands behind his back and bending close (too close, Elder McKinley thought, experiencing a sudden, heart-pounding jolt of alarm), his eyebrows raised entreatingly in a way that – if Elder McKinley didn't know any better – he'd say was almost...flirting.
Regardless, the overall effect was so gosh darn adorable and charming that Elder McKinley dazedly felt as though he would melt through the floor – but it was not going to work on him this time. It was not!
"You can't have a cookie, Elder," reiterated Elder McKinley, who was starting to blush horribly, as he attempted to compose himself. "And – and no trying to sneak one before dinner, either. I still remember that donut story you told me."
Elder Price let out an "ugh" noise and spun around on his heel, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. "Fine. See you both later, then."
After Elder Price had sauntered out of the kitchen, Elder McKinley turned back to Nabulungi, who had been watching the exchange with interest. He cleared his throat a couple times, still feeling a little shaky and warm underneath his collar. "...Er, sorry, what were we talking about earlier?"
"You were saying something about expressing feelings," replied Nabulungi, with her chin cupped in her hands and a strange glint in her eyes.
Elder McKinley flushed again. "Oh, yes! That. You should definitely do that. With – with Elder Cunningham." He hurriedly bent his head, praying to Heavenly Father that the earth would miraculously open up on the spot and swallow him whole before this conversation could continue.
"Now I think I understand," Nabulungi said, her mouth curling into a slightly teasing grin. "You have your own crush, Elder."
"Me? A crush?" Elder McKinley forced out a laugh, maybe a little more loudly than he'd intended. "You must be joking, Sister – I couldn't – not with him – I mean it's not –" Nabulungi kept on smiling at him, which was seriously tempting Elder McKinley to crawl down underneath the table and never, ever come out. Literally or figuratively.
"It is a sin to tell lies, Elder McKinley," she reminded him in a solemn tone, clearly imitating the Elder's didactic airs. He supposed he'd kind of been asking for that.
"Is it really that obvious?" he said, planting his face down on the table and letting out a pitiful groan. "I thought I was being careful."
She laid a gentle hand on his arm, laughing. "I will keep your secret. Elder Price is a nice boy, even if he is a little..."
"Full of himself?" he offered, lifting his head just enough to peep an eye at her.
"I didn't want to say it," Nabulungi said, sweetly diplomatic as ever. "But he is a good friend, you know, to Elder Cunningham and the others...and he has a big heart. He is the reason why you are still here, and I am very happy about that."
"I know..." Elder McKinley sighed, dropping his head back down and emitting a frustrated noise into the table. "He's so wonderful."
Nabulungi giggled and reached over to softly stroke his hair. Her fingers felt nice and warm and soothing, and it made him briefly think of his mother, whom he hadn't spoken to in months, and how she used to comfort him sometimes when he was very small and feeling distressed about something or other. Though he imagined that in this particular situation, her response would be quite different.
"Maybe we should swear a pact," Nabulungi suggested, after a moment had passed. "Someday I will talk to Elder Cunningham about my feelings, and you will talk to Elder Price about yours. Then we will both be brave."
Elder McKinley thought it over, slowly shifting himself upright again in his chair. "Okay. I can be brave. I think." An image of Elder Price, wide-eyed and perfect and handsome, floated unbidden into his mind, and he reddened slightly, fiddling anxiously with his hands. "I mean, maybe not today, but..."
"In a latter day," she finished.
"Yes, exactly." He smiled.
"Now, I remember you once asked me to teach you how we dance here in Kitguli," Nabulungi said, springing up from her chair and happily extending a hand to him. "Dancing is much more fun than talking about boys, don't you think, Elder?"
Elder McKinley had to say that she was right.