A dream too surreal to ever come true

It was finally peaceful, apart from the hisses, whispers and the noise the train produced. It was finally peaceful. I had spent the entire last five hours refereeing Ta-hawa and Carolina, I bruised myself while impeding a punch that was directed for Carolina, yes, Makela does not smack. She punches.

Carolina kept muttering about in defiance, believing that she was indispensable to the group.

The two had a constant go at each other for unimportant matters, "oh really!", muttered Carolina after Ta-hawa threatened, "I'll exterminate you!". In Carolina's bold attempt to reply, Ta-hawa had succumbed to her boiling point and released her dagger and went for her. The dagger sliced past my left bicep as I reached to stop her. Makela gasped at what she had done, she stood up abruptly "Jk... I... I had not meant to!", "it's okay, it's just a flesh wound", I said quickly. She was about to weep but not in Carolina's presence. 

Without a further word, she left the compartment. I was aboard a train to Rome with a stubborn blond blue-eyed Mongoose and a defiant impulsive Grey eyed lioness. Utter madness, luckily, food mollified the matter.

Carolina slept on the seat opposite me, she had succumbed to sleepiness after looking at the passing view and fell asleep with her head facing the window. She was afraid, though, she was also determined. I wanted to read her thoughts, though, I felt a barricade every time I attempted, upon the ear that my health would deteriorate from insisting, I gave up on the matter. 

Makela who slept gearless next to me would pass for a sweet sympathetic young lady who did not resort to violence. When her head rested on my shoulder she would immediately pull herself back. In no means would she display meekness nor delicateness. Makela was determined to be the Alpha Female. 

Judging from her behaviour the Ntoma women must have been something else. I stared outside, the view, everything appeared to be in motion. The evening sky was adorned in shades of blue and violet, the brighter stars were once again twinkling.

I smiled mirthfully as I recalled a time when I shared my cardboard box with Lindiwe, a childhood friend I met on the streets when I ran away from my third foster home. I thought as a child that stars were lights that God hanged on a string for children who were afraid of the dark. I still like to believe so at times. 

It was Lindiwe who taught me that stars are spheres of gas commonly consisting of hydrogen and Helium. Yes, you can also find bookworms abandoned in the streets of Cape Town. Auspiciously, a medical doctor had found Lindiwe and me one Friday Afternoon scrounging from house to house in Observatory. Satisfied with the lot we sponged, we sat for dinner at a car wash opposite MacDonald's. The medical doctor was exiting the car wash when he noticed us and immediately stopped.

He approached us, greeted us in Isixhosa, assuming that we were both natives. As he began to ask questions he noticed that I was silent and probably due to their conversation he realized I was not a native. Benevolently, he drove us to our cardboard box house under the bridge after a detour to Shoprite.

 Dr Gola visited us every day after work, he would provide food for us therefore, we no longer found the need to scrounge.

He also supplied us with books ranging from astronomy, history, mathematics and physical science which was fun because that was gold since being in school was only possible while asleep. About three weeks or so into our new friendship with Dr Gola, he came and collected Lindiwe to live with his family. I vividly recall Lindiwe weeping for two reasons. One, we were going to live under an actual roof. Two, only she was going to live under an actual roof.

Dr Gola had not said anything to me, that was neither necessary. It was obvious no child could have been abandoned to dwell in the street, lamentably the Good Samaritan was selective this time and nativity was a factor.

My smile turned absinth at the thought. Lindiwe must have been in her first year in university by now, probably the smartest among her peers. My thoughts shifted from Lindiwe to university. I should have been in my first or second year in university as well if I had not left

Maitland train station. "How-fa", greeted Ta-hawa, "deep in your thoughts?", she asked. I turned to face her, "this might sound ridiculous given our current situation though if we survive, I want to attend university. I'm sure my parents wanted this for me", I replied waiting for her to laugh at me.

For a moment I felt that it was ridiculous to want that since my life was probably never going to be normal, it never was. "That's Awesome, Jk", she beamed. "I always wanted to go to university, especially…", she frowned. "which one?", I asked. "Alkaraouine, the first and oldest university in the world. The Royal University of Mysteries, it's every commoner's dream", she sighed. "Wow, you guys don't miss anything, huh??", I was amazed. 

"It was renamed Normmengard after it was transferred to the New World", she said. "And-", "it stands for Norms by Men that Guard society", she anticipated my question before I asked.  "If we survive I might just do the same though with all the problems I have it might even take longer, assuming that I live", she shrugged.

"Do you miss home?", asked Ta-hawa rekindling the dead conversation. "I do not know; I can't say I have or had a home though I do often think of the people who showed concern for me. Mr and Mrs Mazayi, Kai, Mishka, Lindiwe, Rachael, Mrs Sahir and Mr Armstrong", I replied while looking away. The Moon was the only source of light, the stars garnished the pulchritudinous sky. I wonder at times how atheists overlooked all of this, God's bewitching magnificence. You can't paint such an exquisite evening sky, I thought to myself as I turned back to face Ta-hawa. 

"How about you, miss home?", I asked. "Huh...", she sighed. "There's this enchanted place, the Valley Nzai. The mountains on either side appear as if it was sculptured by God. No jagged edges, flat as ceramic. In between, there's a river- the River of Nzai that entwines with the Atlantic Ocean. It perfectly mirrors the sky. On a quiescent day, it becomes difficult to differentiate the River from the sky it emulates", she said partially dazed in thought. "There's a huge boulder that is situated in the centre of the river, it's my home, it's where I feel at peace and it's the perfect spot to be especially when the Moon and stars adorn the evening sky", she continued. "I doubt I will be fully accepted in my father's society. That's alright, I'll probably build a cottage on the beach of the River Nzai.", she sighed.

She hugged me and smiled, "it's the juxtaposition of choosing stupidity over intelligence", she sighed and gave a beatific smile. "I, once on a Saturday evening, I surprised mum on her birthday. The Moon was the only source of light. We tented on the huge boulder. Laying on our backs while gazing at the stars my mum counted stories about her juvenile days in Scotland and her expeditions in New York when visiting her father.

Suddenly, colours in shades of green, blue, violet and burgundy glimmered. In a rush of excitement, she intently stood up, the water was filled with glowing fishes, plants and obstacles. I encouraged mum to touch the surface of the water. 

At first, she shrugged in caution then curiosity got the better of her. In fear and excitement, she gently touched the water and as soon as her hand connected with the water, light emitted.

Every touch and movement emitted a different colour. I had never seen my mum so excited, so playful and so juvenile. I wept blissfully just by looking at her", she said wiping a tear on her left cheek. "You should invite me sometime", I said to her with a rapturous smile. 

She gazed at me for a moment, "where have you been all this time?", she asked bewitchingly. I frowned though not at her question, I felt an eerie sensation. someone or something was coming. "They are on board", snapped Makela as she stood up placing her breastplate on her torso, I followed protocol. On synch, we looked at Carolina, who was in profound repose.

Makela gave me a look indicating that Carolina wouldn't wake up soon. I covered half my face from the nose down with my Angolan bandanna and covered the rest by pulling my cowl up.