I have been attempting to write a short story of some sort, but I have been utterly unable to think of a way to start one. So that was why I kept the world waiting. But instead I shall, in order to appease the mighty Nifty Porcupine, post something random that I wrote a long time ago....... Darn. I can't find it. Ok, in pure desperation, I shall post something that I did for a school assignment last year. If you haven't read Waiting for the Rain (horrible book), you probably won't get it. But anyway.
Tengo climbed slowly up the steep concrete steps that lead to the dorm he shared with two other boys. His breath created clouds in the air, adding to the mist that he had now grown used to. Tengo shivered, and pulled open the door of his small, and comfortable dormitory. The faces of two people greeted him, one black, and one white, standing next to each other as equals.
“Hey Tengo! You’re finally back,” said the smaller of the two, who had light brown hair and dark eyes. “I still don’t understand how you can finish all your homework and work a job… and the teachers say they’re being overworked…”
Tengo smiled shyly. “It’s all worth it in the end, Gerik.” Gerik was a Polish American and had come back to his home country to study at the American School of English in Warsaw, Poland. “Dilongwe will understand. Right Dil?”
The boy to Tengo’s right, who was leaning over a desk, was writing with the same hungry expression that Tengo wore when he was learning. “Yes, man.” Dilongwe was from Pretoria, South Africa, and had gone over the border to Zimbabwe like Tengo.
Tengo hadn’t told either of his roommates of his family’s troubles back home. It had been four months since the day when Tengo received a letter from home, the writing smudged with his mother’s tears. His father had suffered a stroke, and the medical treatment was too expensive for Oom Koos to afford, as his harvest was growing smaller and smaller every year. If the rain didn’t come soon, the Ouabaas would be forced to sell the land, leaving all his workers without jobs. At hearing this news, Tengo sought employment at a local store, and sent his monthly wage back to his family, hoping it would pay for his father’s treatment.
Tengo threw himself on his bunk, staring at the dust particles floating through the air above him and letting his mind wander. Almost unconsciously, Tengo felt his hand wander towards the small bag of clay he had saved up his pocket money to buy. He felt his hand close around the familiar soft lump, pulled it from the bag, and began to wonder. As Tengo dreamed, a figure began to emerge from the clay, and his mind traveled back in time… back to the veld and the blue sky… the warmth of his mother’s touch…. back to the caressing warmth of the sun’s rays… back to the time when it was Frikkie and Tengo…
Frikkie looked out over the farm’s fields, no longer the same green color that he had remembered them as, but a brown, dirty color. He grimaced under the pounding, merciless heat of the sun. Frikkie couldn’t conceive the concept of selling this farm. It had been his sanctuary, his haven, for his entire life. If he could never see it again, and had to take up a military career, the exact thing he had been trying to run away from, Frikkie thought his life would be ruined. As he wallowed in self-pity, Frikkie wandered across the fields, past the barn, and found himself in the hut “village” where the black farm workers lived. Frikkie was at first disoriented, as he had never been back here except for the day, so many years before, when he had come to say goodbye to Tengo.
Frikkie saw that Tandi was sitting off to one side, singing quietly to a mound of packed earth. Frikkie realized that it was Tengo’s grandmother’s grave. Tandi was startled to see Frikkie wandering over, and instinctively bowed her head. Frikkie didn’t quiet know what he was doing, but he found himself drawn to the spot, as if in a trance. He knelt at Tandi’s side and stared down at the place where he knew her grandmother was buried. Frikkie had never had much connection to the woman, but felt an odd pull toward the grave. He closed his eyes. Tengo, he pleaded, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I did not see. I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry for everything. I was blind. I was unable to hear your voice. But I ran away from the army. I’m done with that life, and can’t go on killing your people. And… I’d like to say thank you. Forgive me for not saying it ages before. Thank you… Thank you, Tengo… As he opened his eyes, Frikkie felt a cool wind brush against his cheek. He looked up, just in time to have a soft, wet drop of water fall in his face. The sky began to let loose, one drop after another until the rain was falling in sheets. It was the most wonderful thing Frikkie had ever seen.
