They were in love. Maybe puppy love, maybe it was real love, but they never got the chance to find out. The year was 1982. The country was in the throes of yet another civil war. Gunshots would ring out at anytime of day or night. Armed thugs roamed the countryside and cities shooting, raping and robbing at will. No policeman could be called upon for they, too, were in fear for their lives. And yet they were in love. He would spend the hours before the bell rang waiting for the time she would be with him. End of class was the beginning of his life, for only then could he see her, talk to her and walk with her. Every hour spent away from her was an agony. Every hour spent with her was heaven. He would walk her home after school, and she’d walk him back just to prolong the time they could spend together. They would talk of everything, and of nothing. They would listen to the sounds of a city in chaos and yet believe the world was theirs, for in the face of love what can prevail against them. Yes they were young. The times and cares of adulthood were yet to fall upon them, but they were sure they would always be together. In each other they had found a soul mate, a lover, a friend and a companion.
That day was just like any other day. Being a Saturday school was out, however he had band practice in the morning, and she had Christian Union to attend to. Band practice was a joy to him. The clarinet was like an extension of his soul, and with all the love he could only but play well. The clarinet was the only other thing that came close to the love he had for her. In his music he could express himself more than words could. He could play his feeling for her and feel the power in the music. She loved listening to him play.
She came early that day. Band practice had not ended so she sat and watched him play. Everybody could see she had eyes for only the clarinet player, and she did not even once look at another player. She loved the sound of the clarinet in his hands, and sometimes he would play for her.
After band practice his colleagues would rib him about how she was looking at him. They would clown around but you could see the envy in their eyes. That day he could hardly wait. They had a whole afternoon to be together! They had planned to go into town and just look around. Nobody would miss them until later in the day and they intended to make the best of it. Hand in hand they left school not knowing this was their last date together.
They decided to walk into town. That way they could have more time just by themselves. Forty-five minutes of walking, talking, and loving. The day was theirs and even the not so distant sound of gunfire could not spoil the mood. Lunch followed. Fish in groundnut sauce and boiled plantains. He cared not what he was eating as long as he was with her. They talked and occasionally touched during the meal. Looking at them you could tell there was something special between them. Something you would want for yourself too. Something that was to end that day.
They knew eventually they still had to go back home. They didn’t want to part, if they could they would have remained together forever. But home time was beckoning. Parents still had to be appeased and evening was drawing near. To postpone the separation they decide to walk back. Hand in hand they walk. Talking, laughing, loving. Hand in hand they face the world.
Suddenly he feels something whiz by and she falls. He hears the sounds of bullets as he turns towards her. He cannot understand the shock on her face, or that red stuff on her side. He lifts her, carries her in his arms. He has to reach a hospital, but there are no cars passing by, there are no people walking by. Everybody had hidden from the sudden danger lurking about. But he cannot leave her there, he cannot run and leave her anymore than he could leave himself. He tries to run with her in his arms but he cannot run far. He stumbles and somehow still manages to keep on. He falls, and picks himself up. He has to get to a hospital.
Exhausted he crawls, she has not opened her eyes for the last hour but now she opens them. He is kneeling beside her. She is cradled in his arms. Blood is all over him. He cannot believe all that blood is from one person. Her breathing is shallow. She tries to speak. He has to strain to listen.
“Kiss me” she whispers.
He kisses her. She closes her eyes. “I love you” she breathes.
Their first kiss.
And their last.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
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1 comment:
heart rending sob story. romance amidst war. i don't think that 'kiss' can be forgotten:((
love the story SS
gideon.
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