The Tame (ON HOLD)

Prologue

Phina stared blankly at the professor's face and supported her chin on her soft and fleshy palm. She was not one for Advanced Math or calculus for the matter. She nearly snickered out loud but quickly clamped her hand tight on her lips as she recalled the names given to the brilliant formula solvers. Mathletes and nerds, she giggled softly. "Wow, I never knew the lone princess had dimples. So cute'', whispered a handsome and lanky guy opposite her desk. He had been trying to hit on her for quite some time now but never one to be rude and lofty, Phina always found ways to elude him. "You should do that often baby girl'', he continued, "you look so cute when you smile''.

The Statue of Liberty might have grinned. Phina sat stone still and pretended the boy was a mute gingerbread man. Fortunately he was used to Phina's stiffness so he got the cue and dropped his antics.

Of a sudden she heard the deep earthy voice of the Vice Chancellor boom through the mouthpiece. ''Miss Phina Nepembe Fields needed at the counselor's office. Immediately depart class''. Phina sat up straight like a whip had cut across her arched spine and looked at the professor, silently pleading with her eyes for his permission to emit class. Briefly after his curt nod Phina pressed her hand on her crisp plain shirt in a bid to flatten the wrinkles and straightened her beige stripped tie before getting up.

She wondered why she was needed at the counselor's office as she moved at a brisk pace down the quite hallway that led to the department of her mind's occupant. She never invited trouble to her crib, did not skip school, and never even put on red lip gloss. Ah...hehe. As if that was ever was a crime, she giggled, the twin petite roundish holes in her lower cheeks sinking in. Phina pushed open the counselor's door and was met with a straight faced woman looked like she had a strict case of lumbago at the desk. A self- made portrait of a smiling Nelson Mandela hung on the white wall behind her. As usual her office looked impeccable. The last time she had been here Phina had been summoned to explain to the woman why she never had any friends at school or at home as her parents had put it. She had had to sit through hours of non- stop lectures about the profound merits of friendship and socializing.

The next day she had brought along a walking ribbon doll to school and had walked it through classes and cafeteria. The counselor, having heard of the ruckus about a mentally deranged student had strutted off to the cafeteria area to see what the babel of noise was all about. She'd stopped short when she'd seen Phina seated calmly sipping condensed milk from its carton and admonishing the myopic doll about how rude it was to not answer back when spoken to. If anything labeled red was to be pin pointed as tomato, her face would have been the first site the Italian cultivators would have ventured. After the incident, no one had bothered the young girl anymore.

"Please have a seat Miss Phina'', the counselor offered in a strained and soft voice. Wary was an understatement of mots compared to the manner in which she stared at Phina's slightly rotund face. Guess the young girl's antics had paid off. Phina murmured her thanks and sat down with flourish, her pale brown pleated skirt swishing on the dark leather seat. Counselor Khumalo though, was at a loss as to what to say. Literally she had never been in such a compromising situation before. How was she going to inform a seventeen year old teenager that her parents had died in a gruesome car accident without her switching planets to banshee ville? The counselor however was in for a shock. The message was hardly delivered out of her lips before Phina slithered off her chair to the hardwood floor in a heap of tumbled mess.

The driver of the blue van drove at nine km per hour. Technically speaking he was going at a prohibited pace prior to road regulations, and would have accounted for it had he not been on this deserted, forest road. There were no policemen to flank and slow him down. Were it not for his rapid pace though he still would have been within the city limits and not halfway on his journey. He wore a grim expression on his crease-lined face, owing to the stiff, aggravating ache in his spine. The journey was tedious and he had exacerbated it by stopping only once for lunch and stretching his tired limbs. The road as a whole too did not help aid matters. Due to its desolate condition it was filled with colossal pond-like pot holes that could sink a ship; no pun intended. The car rocked forward in a vicious and alarming manner anytime it bumped any of these death traps, jerking the driver and his control on the pedal via process. Though the mood he was in did not permit any other reaction other than a few cuss words here and there, the gorgeous amount of cash he was to be paid in return for carrying his 'load' across country was worth the bumpy ride.