As Long As the Sun Doesn't Set

The Roman

        "As long as the sun doesn't set."

That's how late Bakari was allowed to be outside. The moment that the sun dipped to kiss the edge of the horizon, Bakari was supposed to return to his mother. She was sitting on the bank of the Nile with a few of her friends, watching him play from a distance. It wasn't as though Bakari could cause any trouble, though. He couldn't even walk properly. Nothing looked out of the ordinary about him at first until you saw the angry white web of scars that twisted around his right foot. That was from the first and, so far, the only time Bakari had harmed himself. He hadn't listened to his mother's warnings and stepped right into a pile of hot coals. Eternal were the consequences. He could walk, but not without feeling the pain of a thousand needles stabbing into the sole of his foot.

Bakari treasured these moments that he was allowed outside. True, there wasn't much that he could do, but it was better than being stuck staring at the bare beige walls of his room. At least, out here, Bakari could take in all of the magnificent colors of Egypt. He was rather lonely, but, when you're eight years old, your mind could often be enough of a distraction. Besides, Bakari had never really had a friend before. What you didn't have you couldn't miss. There was also the fact that Bakari knew that they would be forcing themselves to be his friend.

He was in a rather strange predicament. His disability had nothing to do with his friendlessness. The other children avoided Bakari because they believed that he was their superior. Such is the cursed life of being the future Pharaoh. He'd tried to speak to the other children, but they all knew who he was. The fact that Bakari said strange things didn't help his situation either. They always thought that he was speaking in the tongue of the gods. He wasn't. He had lots of questions and he wanted lots of answers. When those questions couldn't be answered, then Bakari would ask why they did not have answers. Then, he would spend hours, if not days, trying to answer his questions. His father, the Pharaoh, often told Bakari that he had a busy mind and that he needed to work on quieting it. Quieting his mind was the last thing that Bakari wanted to do. It was the only company that he had.

Today, Bakari was wondering where the sun went. He knew the stories of Ra, but they could only answer so many of his questions. Such as did it go to sleep? Was the sun itself alive or simply a chariot for Ra? Bakari liked to think that, if you were fast enough, you could run after the sun, and it would be daytime forever. He knew that he would never be able to accomplish such a feat, especially in the state he was in. But he still liked to imagine himself doing it. Running so fast that no one could keep up, no one could stop him. It seemed like a beautiful thing, running.

Before Bakari could hardly even blink, the sun started to dip behind the horizon. And with him, Ra took Bakari's momentary joy. With a heavy heart, Bakari stood and began to limp over to his mother. She was already walking in his direction, ready to take his hand. This was how every day they went outside played out. She would jump up the moment the sun began to disappear to make sure that Bakari did not fall as he hobbled over to her.

"Bakari, dear, please don't look as though you've just witnessed a death," she sighed. "The sun will return tomorrow."

"But will we return tomorrow?" Bakari asked softly.

His mother hesitated, a concerned look coming over her face. She always worried. Bakari didn't blame her. It wasn't her fault that he was hurt, but she believed that it was. Bakari wished that he was more like her. She was tall, taller than his father, and very, very strong. It made sense, though. She was half-Roman, with dark red-brown hair and olive skin. Whenever she walked about in public, she wore a long dress made of the finest white silk that swirled around her feet as though churned by an invisible wind. A circlet of silver rested upon her brow that was decorated only by a few small blue jewels. That's all she needed to wear. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. That was what Bakari's father said, anyway, and Bakari believed him. Many people believed that she was the goddess Sekhmet, but she was just an ordinary person. Bakari liked the think that she maybe had special powers, though.