. They both wore white morning gowns and really looked like money from a distant. “Hey good morning, hope you slept well, I had told Diana to change the bedding for you.” “don’t forget to tell her that Diana is her sister from home.” I smiled at Daisy(whose name I had discovered the previous day),it somehow felt better having a sororal someone closeby.
Morning, oh yea thanks I really needed the rest,” I said walking to the chair she had gestured me to take. “Do you mind helping me with a speech at the funeral, my father is out on a business trip and I have to cover his speech slot in Tzaneen.” Her voice was like mojo artistically made by a charlatan. It worked like magic. I agreed without thinking twice BUT, “Isn’t there a sort of dress code or something?’ because all I ever had in my satchel which looked to be a career of three 2 quire books, were two blue track pants engraved FC NM ACADEMY and a wool hat. Where the hell was one going with just that as luggage? ***
“Character is like a tree, reputation is like its shadow. The shadow is what we think of it, but the tree is the real thing. We have come to this hallowed spot to remind each other of the fierce urgency of now. Live shots have been fired with apparently actual intentions and today Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, we stand before a casket with one of our own...” From behind me, Peggy stealthily walked to me and told me we were to get ready. “NO, Does she think I am going to escort her to the podium?” I followed her, navigating my way through the jostling people, wondering, pondering, debating, non affirming the course of the whole situation.
“I have to say good people, we’ve lost a giant yes but the Lil giants we are we'll find our way out” The speaker’s words got my immediate attention and I stopped. What sort of business were they into? What kind of person says those kinds of words at a funeral? What is Peggy going to say? The same thing? What about me, what impression do I have to give around about now?
I shoulder fixed my blazer, pocket sorted my pinioned shirt and belt adjust the pair of pants that I was wearing. Two foot stomps and we were in the back room of the chapel. We not soft, no melancholy. She said it blatantly, and walked out back to the terraces of the chapel. I stood there with the program director waiting for her to come back. While I did so, a wild applause erupted, disturbing the tranquillity in the interval between big up SIR EDMUND(+ a military salute stance) and THANK YOU, then a louder, serene breaking applause eloped with his descend from the stage. At this point I began to worry. I was in the waiting room, alone, when the program director cleared his throat before lifting the microphone from its stand, looked out in the direction of the waiting room, I realised then that I was swimming the drowning end of the pool. There was still no sign of Peggy, and the cacophony of voices in the chapel was beginning to settle into a melody of serenity. The program director actually mentioned my name BRANDON with a very appropriate honorific in it but I paid no attention. She played me. Is that why she had to go through the entire trouble to get me proper clothes. Oh like an elite I looked but like a kid I was terrified.
The walk to the podium was a long one, characterised by a search mode in the eyes, I tried in vain to locate Peggy and was damn sure whatever she meant with ‘we are not soft’ was a tip for the podium.
“Each sunrise brings with it transactional challenges that have become thorns of flesh in the lives of numerous people in our calibre. Stories of pacts, improvisation, determination, skill and courage have been told but to no help they have proven to be. We have also learnt through grapevine understanding that all this can be a combination of nonsense if one successfully explores the forge way of backstabbing, cheating and blackmailing. Pity, our speculation of what was the new normal in the game was actually a browbeat with no other axiomatic intention but to rile the masses behind the man lying in that casket.” At this I pointed at the casket and felt absolutely nothing. His huge simulacrum had him looking at me as though it could read no affection at all, I didn’t really mind. It was time I finished, that was the cue, short and precise, but strong and upbeat, then descend the stage with the swiftness of a swallow. My evasiveness demanded a circumlocutory approach but I was soon to end the romanticism and be as crude as one can be.
“We have,” I continued, “Come to this hallowed spot to not only bid farewell to the whole personality that lies idle in that casket, but to aggrandize this community in its advancements towards claiming global recognition. Mine is also not to instigate a vagary from the principles and standards set by our predecessors but comrades a declaration of pound for pound has been made and it will surely end in tears. We won’t fold hands and let this direct confrontation end with 6 bullets fired with actual intent being with us. In the mean time, REST IN THOSE PIECES(I didn’t really say that) but, Retaliation is a must.”
I headed for the exit, a wild applause followed by a caterwauling of plaudits soon blued the chapel in apparent agreement in what I had said. The deceased had allegedly been a carrier of 6 live bullets at the time of isolation. Pity, but I thought of why one would die in such a way and smiled in my mind, it’s always an eye for an eye.
My thoughts were disturbed by a wild cheering of a not so favourite person at the time, PEGGY. “What was that Peggy? How the hell was I supposed to know what to say?” She hugged me and apologized. FULL STOP.
The smile on my face.
***
16 December 2014
We were already driving on a wide road to Polokwane, the 16th of December is apparently a huge day in SA, forty kilometres away from our destination Palesa(Peggy’s full name),her friend and I were still cheering, dancing unapologetically to the loud music that played in the Hyundai H1, on whose registration plates was scribbled, ERRAND. She changed the gears pompously, pressed the accelerator and manoeuvred the huge H1 round sharp corners without reducing her speed. Amidst the loud jamming self proclaiming deep house fathers, the two kept praising me for my demagoguism. We sipped on the contents of our glasses with total ease and on numerous occasions, would spill the calming drink on the seats or somewhere on the canvas.
I seemed to see everything in my mind’s eye now, the wasting away the driving the little or no fear at all of the wicked stones and the speed at which we were travelling was enough to give lights on, on what was to become the fateful day of my two day exposition to SA. On one or two occasions, we stopped to join roadside dancing crews that would also be on their way somewhere, we fitted like gloves. The distance from the great city was now diminishing rapidly as Peggy drove even faster. Déjà vu? I saw it coming. It was all we saw, right behind a very acute corner Peggy had again not done anything to observe the hazard that was to instigate panic, a long procession of donkeys crossing the road sluggishly, then darkness, darkness darker than the darkness night.
When I woke up, a grave silence greeted me, I looked for company but there was none. Was it real or my imagination? I do not suppose I’ll ever know the answer to that question. All I still remember is, I was grateful to see the sun’s first rays heralding the approach of dawn. Just then, a white lady In crisp white uniform arrived and decorously broke it to me. “You are lucky to be alive, your two sisters, I am sorry to indecorously announce that you will never see them again. Your eight months in coma, the longest in coma we have witnessed have gotten you to miss lots of events.” At this, I fell back and began to cry.
***
The constant beeping of the whatsoever machine next to me woke me up. I gazed at the white ceiling thinking I could read the small lines that I seemed to be reflecting on it. I found it futile, worthless. The small screen on my right had a green zigzagged line which tore through the middle of it. I tried to move my head perhaps in a motion to rise but was soon to realise that my whole body was in plasters and bandages, my right leg was elevated by some metal and an excruciating pain froze my limp such that I didn’t dare try to move it. A supporting cushion had been put beneath my lower left limp such that my left hip was slightly of the bed. On my left was another bed but I soon realised that I couldn’t really look that way I had a supporting unit round my neck and mobility was totally impaired. What was I? I tried to remember what had transpired but HEY, I COULD ONLY REMEMBER UNTIL THE ARRIVAL OF THE NURSE. WTF?
***
Days passed and little or no change was evident on some days, opening my eyes daily became daily breaking news to the medical personnel that were in charge of my being a patient in their seemingly prestigious health institute. As to how I had stayed for so long in such an esteemed institution of health, remains an issue I am oblivious of. From the diversity in races of the personnel that would take turns to attend to me to the remoteness of the hospital or clinic that I had spent over a year in, I could only but guess, if I am not dead and have already moved in with God in heaven then this must be a model c hospital that should have personnel who breathe life into patients dying of a global pestilence. But what boggled my mind most was how I thought I was going to settle bills for the whole year in this hospital or whatever it was, who had brought me to this place? Why were there no patients moving in or being stretchered out, alive or having succumbed to natural causes or even inflicted reasons? What the hell is this place? None of the people that I seemed to be seeing everyday looked like they knew me or who had brought me to the hospital, except the nurse who had broken the news of our near complete obliteration which claimed the lives of two ladies believed to be my sisters. I never ate myself much about it because my amnesia if it was it, was on another level, it had completed 4 sets of push ups before striking my dear memory. With time I started murmuring, inarticulate grunts which were met with very real smiles from the same nurse, the only person whose presence in this hospital was certain on daily basis, or so I thought. My speech had been put to rest by my loss of memory and truth be told, my whole life had taken a nosedive into a piss gutter.
