Njeru
could have sworn he heard his name. He had been standing next to the large
acacia tree that stood dutifully at the center of the soundless campsite,
fixing his gaze into the nothingness that seemed to sway with the blowing wind.
The straps whipped against the slacken tent wall, forming beats to a dirge that
played in the deepest darkest chambers of his heart. He stood on the same spot
for a few more minutes, barefoot, the soft green grass licking his feet.
Everyone
else had gone to the lake, a ten minute walk from where he stood. He didn’t
want to go, he had told them that he wasn’t feeling too well, a lie that had left
a bad taste in his mouth. “You guys go, I’ll be in the tent taking a nap.” He
had hoped that Kui would not offer to keep him company; she always cared too
much, so he lied to them with his eyes on the green grass, his toes digging
into the soft blades, his body inching away from the group slowly and smoothly.
It
had been more than fifteen minutes since they left. Njeru had paid attention to
their voices as they faded away in the wind, their voices an accidental
orchestra, an unseen conductor signaling a diminuendo. Now all he could hear was the unscripted
melody of the Eastern Bluebirds that perched atop the acacia tree, each adding
to the other’s song. He watched as some of them flew down to the poorly pitched
tents that surrounded the tree, he took in their blue feathers and orange
chest, he watched them as they flew away, in pairs, and sometimes in groups of
three. He watched as they danced together, then he listened for his friends’
voices, and at that moment, he felt it.
It
rose from deep in his gut, a flaming ball rising up, taking all the air from
him. He looked at the birds, then thought of his friends, and he knew at that
moment, more than ever, he was alone.
(For Kui ;-) )
(For Kui ;-) )
