CURTAINS

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 2^nd 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.