This piece was a collaboration with one of my most talented students. As a challenge i finished the later part of this story and gave her one of mine to complete. I will admit the work she did with mine is very good. the piece will be put up on the blog soon. This one can only be attributed to Charity Vivi Kilonzi. Thank you for the challenge and inspiration. WRITE MORE.
I have killed before, when
anguish took the place of patience. I have hurt before, do not worry though, I
don’t remember who. I have lost, loved and died on the inside, slowly, long
before this. Right now I stand behind the fence. I feel liquid charge flow
through my veins while others around me have hearts full of blood.
I have found tangible pain that I
stare into every day the morning sun reminds me of my existence. The kind of
pain that twists your insides and leaves them mangled. I would forgive but the void that hate
occupies eclipsed all the love that once coloured my life. It is all pretence.
If at all two days were one ,
then I have lived too long. I have chosen the freedom of my own prison rather
than the open plains of this grey world. The heavens above understand what I am
going on about. At my age, I should be dead. Having died with pride and purpose
but life just wont let me go. I have travelled back and forth through time
before but right now I am stuck in limbo. Hovering between days unsure of what
fits to be yesterday, today or tomorrow. The world is a lot different if seen
through my eyes.
I have been beating around the
bush , now let me draw the curtains that you may see me. My name was once a
name. Kenkah Shomai. Right now, it is a title, a case file and a bad example as
parents would put it. With this kind of profile, the sun rarely comes up and
the flowers are not coloured in my world. So I have resorted to having my name
changed to ‘Prince’. Don’t ask me ask why I chose prince. That will be an even
longer story.
‘ Maybe she will wake up!’ I
remember saying to myself when I was the last to leave grave yard. When I had
watched the mounds settle where I had buried her. I have managed to act in
vacuity towards destiny anytime we talk about death.
‘Where is he?’ Destiny stands at
my door.
The culprit asks for me at every
sunrise and at every sunset. Stirs outside my house, holding a pair of scissors
and threatening to cut my silver cord. ‘ Go ahead if you must, the grass looks
greener on your side anyway.’ I speak to him, but he relents and lets the cord
go. I have evaded death more times than I wish to count, all the way from
preschool but my precious Laura was not so lucky.
It breaks my heart that she can
see me but I can’t see her. It breaks my heart that she can touch me without my
being conscious of it. It breaks my heart that she can hear me but I, I just can’t
hear her anymore. I feel her presence linger beyond the veil and yearn to rip
it away. To crossover and grab her from its clutches.
‘I hate it here Laura, because it’s
just how you left it and I don’t want to live in a world that you’ve left . I
see you everywhere I go and it hurts like hell that I can’t be with you. That I
can’t touch you right now.’
I am a man of few words, but when
it comes to Laura I am omniscient about her. I will tell you everything about
her and why she was the way she was. I am pathetic, I know. I could describe
and mimic her laugh , trace every arc that formed her smile. Describe in detail
every moment that gave her deep ecstatic joy. The things that she dreaded most.
She was my world, a world that is eerily cold in her absence. It is cold at the
cemetery with an awkward silence that that genuinely speaks to the soul. It is
a strange arena this place. Death has words with life, an amicable
conversation, contrary to what might expect. The cycle of our existence and its
ironies.
‘Laura, Edith is okay. She
finally started walking on her own, she is so cute. She smiles just like you
and is every bit as lovely as you.’ I mouth these words as I dust of her head
stone. Listen here, listen carefully. I do not need pity, so suck it up. I am
not soft. I prefer to be religious though I do not show it. Being twenty eight
with a criminal record as extensive as mine is not easy. It is made more
complex if everyone believe you had something to do with your wife’s murder. My
story starts and ends with Laura, but Laura is snatched from me in mid-sentence,
so pay close attention….
Once upon a 1978 2nd
October day, I met her. I saw her, standing in the middle of a milling crowd.
She had one of those faces that grabbed your attention, actually arrested it. I
admit it had me staring. She had an aura
of innocence that was so palpable it touched my soul. I was drawn in, and
afraid I should not have been.
She was at the church. No, I had
no intention to attend the service. I
was not religious then, not in the slightest. I had been dragged along against
my greatest protestations, one of the many requirements of my new probation
officer. I was livid at first, but seeing her changed things a lot. The
violence that was raging within me was instantly subdued, like the sea on a
still summer day.
I must have stared a tad too long
because I notice a friend whisper in her ear then she turned and smiled at me
and carried on unperturbed. I turned to my probation officer and excused
myself. She raised her eyebrows and began to scowl at me before she caught
sight of Laura and let it go.
‘Excuse me ,’ I said as soon as I
was close enough,’ may I have a word?’
‘Yes you may,’ she responded,
looking up at me with those golden-brown eyes
that could stop time. ‘ You seem quite the gentle man but hardly look like one.’
‘I never claimed to be one,’ I
tried to smile but it came of more as a grimace. I never smiled much. I think I
forgot how that was done.
‘I am Laura, Laura Apondo,’
‘I am Kenkah Shomai, it’s a
pleasure to meet you.’ It was at this point that I noticed she had been holding
out her hand. I had to hesitate, I am not used to handling delicate things and
her hand looked beyond delicate. I was afraid I might break it. I did finally
reach out and take it, briefly and cautiously. I looked in to her eyes again,
and felt her really look into mine. It was exhilarating. We were world apart,
anyone could tell that. I, full of darkness, tainted in every sense of the word
by the twisted world. She on the other hand was magnanimous and unadulterated.
Like the light that scatters the darkness. She lit me up inside, reminded me
that I was capable of feeling.
I had been a brutal being. I
enjoyed violence, pain and solitude. That is why what I feel now is hollowing.
Hollowing because I found something worth living for and like so many other
things. I lost it now I wonder why the fates look down on me and have mercy. Why
don’t they let the curtains fall on this sad story that is my life?
Laura walked in to my life and
brought all the colour of the universe in with her. Everything seemed brighter,
her voice so much sweeter. Every minute felt so much longer. And time with her
so much more worth it. She never inquired to the wrongs I did nor did she
bother with the evils in my past. I loved her, not these lustful imaginations
teenagers have. I really loved her. I loved to look at her, to hold her in my
gaze. I was entranced when I was in hers. In her eyes I was no longer brutal, vile or
broken, I was whole: complete. My hands learnt not to shove and punch, but to
hold gingerly, to rest tenderly on her waist. To caress her softly and promise
to protect the innocence that flowed from her. She was the only person I really
loved.
Our friendship blossomed and the
dark memories of a dreary past were soon forgotten. We enjoyed sunsets in the
park. My head rested in her laps looking up at her. I suppose that is how it
must be, to look up at angels. Her hand resting on y forehead, or running
through my commonly unkempt hair. Stroking my pain away with every touch. With her the vision of my father baring down
on me with bawled fists faded into the fog of the past. Her soft hands found a
place in my calloused hands. I adapted to planting a kiss on her forehead every
time we embraced. Perhaps as self-assurance that I was sane, perhaps as a I
reminder that I longed to have by my side forever.
I had turned to’ jelly’ as the
streets I had grown up on would have called it. However after the things I had
done, people like me earn their rightful place in society. And such a place
does not allow for one to turn to ‘jelly’.
After a lifetime of pain and violence, enemies tend to gather. People
who respond only to a hard and ruthless beast. The ilk that would use anything
that one holds dear to harm them.
‘Ken, you time with miss sunshine
ought to be winding up. Time to end the long walks in the park. She is too good
for you and you are too much trouble for her.’ Capon said. He called himself Capon
because he thought he was ruthless and cunning. I thought otherwise.
‘Have you been watching me?’ I
asked trying to keep my voice even.
‘I have eyes everywhere, boy.
Nothing gets past me,’ he responded smoothly. I was tempted to thump him but I
restrained myself. I had run him off many times before. Whether it was
persistence or plain idiocy, I am not sure which sent him back. However, he
kept coming back.
‘Really, then make sure your eyes
stay off me or I will poke holes in them,’ I replied slowly and deliberately
letting the venom of the message ring clearly. He knew exactly what I was
capable of. ‘Besides, I left it all behind so that you would fancy yourself king.
I thought you would enjoy it.
‘Love is not for you, neither is
she. Let her go before you lose her,’ the subtleties and nuances of his
inference being made evident. He meant to threaten me. The result he achieved
was quite the contrary. He tickled me with his act.
‘Is that supposed to be a
threat?’ I asked as I crossed the bar to his table. The illusions that
television had filled his head with. The
bar was mostly empty, save for two goons at the back. Two others sat at the
counter. By my assessment they couldn’t land a solid punch to save their lives.
By this time I was already in front of
Capon, staring down at him. His cowardice was palpable.
‘ Yes it is, boy.’
‘ you know you are a fool Eric. I
was never one to run around in a park like you puppies here.’ I said pulling a
seat and facing him as I fell lightly into it. ‘ Now let us get some things
straight. If you want adulating children around you. Feel free to gather as
many as would make you feel manly. However,
I left that nonsense behind me. So do not reach out to me, or come after me.
Are we clear?’ he nodded.
‘Secondly, I took no throne on
these streets. I owned no mantle that I should pass on to you. And if you feel
you have anything to prove. Prove it to your boys. Not me.’ An arrogant smirk
crossed his lips. It was at this point that I decide some violence would do me
some good.
‘Three final things. One, never
call me boy. Two, tell anyone that comes after me that get the idea to, all
bets are off. Lastly, about Laura..,’ I paused giving an enigmatic smile,
picked up the beer bottle he had set before me and drained it in one swig. I
sighed with satisfaction as they watched me in pregnant expectation.
‘Go on boy, what about her,’ he
urged.
I flung the bottle across the
room catching one of the youngsters in the throat. He doubled over gasping and
wheezing as he fell to the ground. I smashed another over Capon’s head and sent
him crushing to the ground. I had my penknife out and on his throat before any
of the others could react. They had begun to charge forward but all stopped
dead in their tracks. One flick of my wrists would end Capon, they knew it.
They knew I was that good, and that I was crazy enough not to care
‘As I was saying, Laura is off
limits. If you or any of your friends get any ideas’ I lowered my voice to a
whisper, ‘I will end you slowly and painfully.’ I finished, stressing my last
words as I pushed the knife a little deeper and drew some blood. Capon gulped
audibly as he swallowed hard. He was a coward and deeply afraid of me. Hence
his belief that he had to come after me to prove himself. It didn’t hurt to
reinforce the point, and the results were pleasing. Sweat was dripping from his
face and he was shaking as he nodded madly.
As I let him go, I noted that his
posy was ready to pounce. ‘Three against one, these were not bad odds.’ I
thought remembering that I had face worse and always come off unscathed. True
to form one leapt forward as soon as my knife was off Capon’s throat. I stepped
out of his way, connecting a blow to the back of his head when he swung past
me. He fell to the flow and would definitely take his time getting up. Another
came, throwing punches wildly, he I put down instantly by stabbing in the chest
rapidly. The last one reconsidered seeing how easily I had incapacitated his
colleagues.
I walked out of the bar, hoping I
would never have to face them again. Unfortunately, Capon and his breed have
the persistence that is bullish and annoying. They do not know when to stop or
how to. I had the feeling it would never be over, not while we were both alive.
That was a while ago. Days ran
into months, months into years, and the years bathed in sweet memories. The
events of that day were soon forgotten. I was happy, more than happy. I was
elated. For a time there was a lull in my troubles and a surge in my troubles
and a surge in my triumphs. Laura, my guardian angel, leading me out from the
stormy waters to the safe sandy shores.
Admittedly, less than a few
people believed we would last. Even I had my doubts. Like my probation officer,
I waited with bated breath for the mistake that would drive away. Thank
goodness none came. I was on the straight and narrow, got a job, and free and
clear of all sorts of trouble. A few misguided wanderers tried their luck at
causing us grief but failed spectacularly. I was all Laurah needed and she was
all I had. Our worlds, like our hearts and minds were inextricably intertwined.
Strange though, was the lack of resistance from her parents. Like her, they
agreed that the past is best left in the past. I remembered how I had dreaded
meeting them. The only parent I had known was a man in a perpetual drunken
stupor with whom our only conversations started and ended in blows. I believed
most fathers would send me off in an instant. The contrast though, her father
was the very definition of amiable. Her mother as charming and as gentle as
her.
They took the news of her
pregnancy with such grace, I was awestruck. So this is what family was; love,
compassion and understanding. Things I had never had, but was grateful to share
at this moment.
‘You make her happy, I am glad
that you do,’ her father said at the end of our first meeting as he walked me
out. ‘Keep her smiling.’ I swore I would. I did my very best too.
‘Laura, I guess he will kill me if
he ever gets his hands on me. It will be right. However, I will make my amends
first. Balance my books before he does.’
A few short months later, Edith
was born. She had the radiance of her mother. The same infectious smile and a
sweet soothing gurgle when she laughed. Holding her on that day brought me to
the realization that my reformation was complete. I had them to live for and
care for.
The irony of this life, you can
always try to outrun them, but somehow the consequences of your past always
catch up with you. They turn up when you least expect them. Kick the dust up
into your eyes and wreak havoc. The sweeping tide that cleaves you from all you
hold dear. When it came, it came in the form of Capon. The pettiest thing that
one could ever be referred to as a man ever. I should have known he would bear
a grudge. Like all things of the dark, he came when my joy was at its peak and
took it all away.
Laura and I had been out for a
stroll with Edith as we always did on weekends. We had just met my former
probation officer. She was glad to see me, glad that my life was on track
again. She had even invited us to her grandson’s baptism, told us to work on
getting Edith baptised. The reverend mentioned what great help I had been in
setting up the new sound system. He joked that the old one sounded like dying
cats singing in unison. We were still laughing about it when we walked through
the front door and I saw him.
‘Hallo Ken, it has been a while.’
‘ What do you want?’ I asked as I
instinctively stepped between him and Laura. She had lifted Edith from the stroller
and cradled her in her arms. She had tensed up as instantly as I had.
‘No greetings I see,’ he said,
drumming his fingers on the table. ‘I came to lick old wounds, is that so bad?’
‘You knowI could gut you before
your friends could blink, don’t you?’
‘I suppose you could. Come out
boys, I told you he was good.’ As I had expected, three off them emerged from
the living room. They looked misguided enough to pick this fight. I believed a
smarter person would know to walk away. I on the other hand was more reckless
than smart. I should have known better
too. My ego was too blinding to let me see what I was risking. I had faced
worse odds, but none so delicate. This was not the day to go about chest
thumping.
‘You disappoint me. I thought we
settled this last time we crossed paths. ‘I spoke as I stepped between the
kitchen island and the sofa-bed he sat on, placing myself at the centre of the
semi-circle. Laura was still by the door. I wish she had stepped out.
‘I have to beat you to be king on
the streets. Even though you left, everyone still thinks you run them,’ he
said.
‘Are you that shallow?’ I left
all that behind me years ago. You might either be stupid or just a dumb coward.
You need to earn your respect on the streets. Go out there and earn it because
I am not your ticket to it.’
‘Who are you calling a coward?’
he retorted as he tried to jump up but my boot hit him hard in the chest and
sent him back. I pulled my penknife out and sunk it in the chest of the one who
came attacking from my left. I engaged the other two longer than I had
expected. Slashing, punching, pushing, and butting. It was all a melee. I
suppose Capon saw an opening and tried to join the fight. A wild swing sliced
him just above the left eye, drawing a thick gash of blood. He fell back into
the sofa-bed. A blow hit me in the temple sending me to my knees; it was then
that it happened.
Capon pulled out a gun and begun
to fire wildly. None of them were targeted at anyone since his eyes were shut.
I had ducked a little lower and got up just in time to see him flee. His
accomplices had lain in pools of their own blood. It was then that I looked at
the place I had left Laura standing. She was slumped against the wall, facing
it. Blood soaked the back of her sweater. She still clung to Edith who was now
wailing. I run to them and cradled them both, screaming and calling for the
neighbours to come help. Called to God to save her, wishing I could turn back
time.
I can’t help thinking, may be if
I stayed away her fate might have changed. Maybe, just maybe, she would still
be alive. Maybe you she and Edith might have each other. That they might have a
better life together. I cannot help think how terribly I had failed her, and
failed Edith too. I curse destiny for it. Standing at her, I know what I must
do right by Laura. Get her justice and raise her daughter right. First though,
I have to stay alive.
