5 - A moment of peace

I woke up with a smile spread to the far corners of my face. I virtually levitated out of bed and through my morning routine without a hitch or bad thought. When I entered the kitchen, I was vibrating and soothed all at once. My gran was the first to notice my chirpy mood. She happily invited me to join in with breakfast preparations. Pork sausages, baked beans, polla eggs and freshly brewed coffee. I felt like I was in culinary heaven.

My brother walked into the kitchen in his boxers and sloffies, bare-chested. It was weird to see the baby hairs decorating his chest as it would a man's. It was difficult for me to recognise the baby I had left as the man standing in front of me, scratching his dishevelled cork-screw hair.

"Put on clothes! There is a girl in the house. Cousin or not, she doesn't need to see so much of you!!" My grandma shrieked. The word 'cousin' stung my ear a bit, but my good mood served as a shield. I laughed under my breath as Razeen's eyes grew three sizes. He heeded our ma's ongoing threats and hurried back to his room. When he returned, he was wearing a floor-length thobe decorated with vibrant colours and intricate patterns. Despite its beautiful designs, the grease stains plainly pointed out its casual function. 

Seeing Zeen in his thobe reminded me of the time had to explain to Lucas why my father was wearing a "dress" in an old photograph I had of me with my family. Lucas was bemused at first, but once I’d pointed out how fashionable it was in Africa, especially for the most distinguished men in the village, he was desperate to get his hands on one. We bribed one of the upperclassmen Anthropology students to make us thobes of our own.

My gran hurried my brother to his duty. She said that no wife would want a husband that couldn't make a proper "polla eiers". I bit back my rebuttal as it formed on my tongue.  It was not my place to contradict the woman of the house. He reluctantly rolled up his sleeves and started cracking the eggs.

"What do you normally eat up north?" my brother asked while trying to sneak pieces of eggshell out of the bowl.

"We normally do a spread of bread and cold cuts," I said shyly. It was a far cry from the feast they were preparing.

"That's no kind of food. No wonder you lost your meat up there!" my ma interjected.

"We also have really good eggs benedict with salmon when the cooks are feeling happy," I said, trying to save the face of my northern home.

She seemed very impressed as I explained the steps and ingredients that go into making eggs benedict. My brother was stuck on the fact that we had people who cooked for us. I assured him that it was only when we were on campus. Lucas and I were the designated cooks when we went to his during the holidays.

There was a weird feeling bubbling in my stomach as my ma offered to teach me how to make polla eggs, much to Zeen's relief. She said I should have one dish from home to take back with me. I also gave her some tips to season her fish the next time she decided to make it. Excited by the prospect of improving her already "perfect fish recipe," ma announced that we would have fish that night. My brother's stomach sounded his approval of the evening's menu. It was a bittersweet feeling to stand beside my family as we all prepared the food for the morning. It was a moment that I had always wanted to experience, but it reminded me of how unlike the rest of my family I had become.

I felt the next two days pass by me like the kindest hurricane the world has ever known. I enjoyed the growing familiarity between Zeen and me. He wasn't much of a talker – like father like son, but we didn’t always need to talk. We understood each other. The time I spent away from my brother's side was spent under the tutelage of my gran. The old crow held my attention like a Venus flytrap, but I loved every second of her "womanhood crash course.” In her opinion, the northerners had allowed me too many edges for my feminine spirit – I needed to soften up and learn the ways of making a home. I did whatever I could to see that proud sparkle in her cloudy eyes. I knew she saw my mother when she looked at me, so I smiled at her on behalf of both of us.

Kelly danced in my memories of the previous two days. I was amazed that someone as locally bred as her would know so much about the world – about my world. She was a never-ending source of rare and fantastical information. I had a sweet but sinking feeling in my gut every time I saw her. I tried to memorise every feature, every gesture, every pitch of laughter, every touch, every kiss we shared. In two days, they would stand as relics in the gallery of my mind. I tried to rip those thoughts as they sprouted but it was futile. It was the truth and I was a fool to try to deny it.

I found Kelly standing in the lake where we first met. She was violently stabbing the water with a rather long stick. Not wanting to interrupt the furious work, I watched from afar. Every few seconds she'd rub her eyes. I figured the water was splashing her face as she pierced the murky waters at a speed.

"Kelly…?" I asked in a gentle voice. She was too busy to hear me. I took it as an excuse to walk closer towards her.

"Kelly," I said again, this time louder. She stopped and wiped her eyes once more. I watched her shoulders rise and fall before she turned around to face me with a bright smile.

"What's with the stick?" I asked in a semi-joking manner. She walked towards me. I met her halfway and wrapped her in an excited embrace – I could barely contain myself at this point. I was still on a blissful high from the night before and this morning's merriments had improved my mood even further.

I decided to go with the flow and even offered to help her with her chores for the day, despite her repeatedly denying that she needed help. I insisted.  Really it was just an excuse to spend more time with her. Eventually, she relented and allowed me to help her.

When she told me that she was tasked with spearfishing for their dinner, I had a brilliant idea. I put my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me but didn't meet my eyes. She was probably disappointed that she couldn't find fish. I smiled at her and motioned for her to move out of the water. I left my sandals on the riverbank and walked into the murky water. I scanned the treeline. We were alone.

Good.

I was slightly nervous. I was told never to show my true self to someone from the village, but this was different. Kelly was different. I felt a spark of confidence buzz through my veins as I finally met Kelly's curious eyes.

“Don't worry. I've got this.”

With one last wink, I was ready.

The first step is always to find my tether point. I burrowed my toes into the icy soil. I waited until I felt the slimy brushing of the fish scales against my ankles. That was what I was waiting for. I allowed the familiar warmth from my chest and head to spread throughout my body. I tried to isolate a single emotion in my mind. Over the years, I had cordoned off a file of select memories to use as a trigger. The one I selected was bitter, but not overwhelming. I didn't need that much energy for what I was about to do. I let the bile bubble up in my gut and felt it burn at the valve of my stomach. The boiling fumes ate away at the skin on my throat as it rose and tore into my flesh.  I waited until they filled my mouth, and my vision became blurred.

Emotion erupted from me into the water. In an instant the whole river was boiling. I felt the soil behind me petrify and melt against my skin as it turned volcanic. I wiggled my ankle and felt the still smoothness of the pre-cooked fish on the riverbed.

Perfect.

I was delighted to discover that I had managed to catch four fish with my unorthodox hunting style. That was enough to bring back the sparkle in Kelly's eyes. She seemed both overjoyed with the sight of four large fish in her bucket and in awe of the spectacle she had witnessed.

I floated out of the water on the back of my elation. For so long I had feared coming home. Now I was at home and exposing my secret to a member of my own village. I could barely believe what had just happened. I was free. Not forever but, in that moment, in the presence of that petite beauty with a kind heart, I was completely free. I decided it was best to get Kelly home. I didn't want to risk anyone stumbling across the molten riverbed and seeing her at the scene. This kind of freedom left evidence.

We took our time on the walk back to her house. I could feel the heat dancing on my cheeks every time her skin grazed mine. I could have sworn that I heard her giggle. The silence between us was almost as light as my heart as we walked.

"What's next on your list?" I chirped as I put down the bucket of slightly charred fish.

"Clean de fish," she said. I happily followed her lead. She effortlessly cut open the fish and emptied its insides into the bucket. I tried not to lose my breakfast as I watched. By the time she had reached the intestines, I couldn't hold back my disgust and had to fight to keep the bile from escaping my gut. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Kelly’s soft laughter helped me calm down. Then I realized that she was laughing at me. I wanted to defend myself and save face in front of her, but I thought it best to keep my mouth closed.

Just when I thought it would overwhelm me, the nausea was pierced by the scent of ginger, lemon and something unsavoury. It was coming from the mug Kelly was holding out to me. Trusting her remedies by then, I gulped down the foul-tasting drink.  It tasted like lemon mud, but it worked, and the sickness subsided.

"You're really good at this, you know," I said, failing to sound smooth. She gave me a confused look.

"The medicine… healing me," I tried to save myself, but she only laughed. I felt oddly pleased as I listen to her joy dance around the room. It was a booming kind of laugh this time. I felt free, immersed in her happiness. I challenged myself to find new ways to make her smile throughout the day, whether by the splashing of fish water, exaggerated stories about my time up north or odd impressions of the many strange creatures I had encountered with Lucas. She seemed interested in my stories.

"What do you want, if you could have anything?" I finally built up the courage to ask her as we sat behind her house. The sun was setting, and her father would be home soon for dinner.

"Far. I want to see more of the wereld," she said, looking out into the distance. She turned to look at me with wonder in her eyes as she asked me more questions about the places I had been. I looked deeper into her eyes as I described the rivers, valleys, mountains and strange people I had encountered. Every detail added another sparkle to her eyes, so I continued. Until the sun said goodbye. 

It was strange to think that the girl who had made me feel so at home in this place wanted to leave it.