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I Cry |
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Fiction |
What shall I call you, friend?
Call me Bashi. It's the name my mother gave me.
Bashi, I say.
Why do they call you Jogi?
I loved the Safari rally. So they nicknamed me
After the rally champion, Jogindah Singh.
Would you like to have lunch? He asks.
Sure, I say. Where would you like to go? He asks.
There's a place called Nakisaki in Long Island, I suggest.
Nakisaki! He laughs, surprised that I know the place.
Jerk chicken, fried rice, plantains, pork, punch...
So began a wonderful encounter.
Life goes by.
Friend, he says. I'm a survivor. Of what? I ask.
Of lung cancer, he says. I'm silent. We talk, about mortality.
About the fight. About the fear. About the pain. He's calm.
Friend, I say. Thank you, for trusting my heart to listen to you.
Would you like to go to Jones Beach? He asks.
Sure, I say. And so we go, and throw stones towards the waves.
Life goes by.
Friend, would you like to have lunch? I ask
Sure, he says. Where are you taking me? He asks.
Just come over, I'll show you a place.
I take him to Flagship on Queens Boulevard
Where we have a long and lazy lunch,
Laugh for hours on end.
My friend has tall tales to tell me.
For he had just come back from home - Kenya.
About a Matatu-jack, all passengers frog-marched
Into a coffee plantation at gun-point, robbed and raped.
About family. About friends. About our people's way of thinking
About well-to-do folks wanting the one-dollar t-shirt on his back
Because it's from America. I shake my heads and go tsk tsk tsk.
And then we laugh a lot. I'm home too, in my heart, with the folk I love
Life goes by.
How are you feeling, friend? I ask.
Woozy, he says. But we walk and talk, for that is what he wants.
Friend, I call him. Yes. I need your help to buy a car.
I'm coming over, he says. So he does... just like a friend
I pack a bowl of fruit, and down Brooklyn-Queens Expressway we go
The life in that rumshackle blue Grand-Am catches me by surprise.
I belt-up, and hang on tight to my seat. He laughs -
And says,
I have bought a place
For what, I ask
For my interment
Where, I ask
Hempstead, Long Island
I'm silent
He's calm
Son of Gatundu
Son of Long Island
Life goes by...
Friend, he calls. Could you join us for dinner?
I'm at work, I say. Come over later, I suggest...
I miss the dinner, and the company of visiting friends
I've only known virtually
So much begins in cyberspace...
Time goes by.
He battles.
Friend, I ask. How are you?
I'm in pain, he responds.
Lots of pain. I've lost all my hair.
I have a cap for you to wear, I say.
That's nice, you'll put it on my head
When I see you next, he says.
Would you like to see the sunset at Jones Beach, he asks.
Sure, I say. The sunset...
Time goes by
Friend?
Silence
A message
He has just left.
I cry.
for Bashi, (aka, Jogi) who taught me that the earth is one.
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Mkawasi Mcharo Hall |