When The Sun Was Mine

Chapter Four

The next day, in the evening, Henry and I met at the Y Junction as we had agreed. By the time I got there, he was already sitting on the stem of a fallen mango tree, waiting for me. He was wearing a bright green shirt and sparkling white shorts. I finally took my time to observe his features properly. He had a nose carved thin and straight with a blade-like dorsum. His nostrils were so narrow that I first thought he struggled to breathe. His eyes were bluish. I wondered if he was wearing something in the eyes because Mr. Lekia had told us that people sometimes wore what he called "contact lenses". I wanted to ask him what made his eyes bluish, but my instincts told me not to. His eyebrows were thick and lined in the shape of a thin leaf. He was very fair in complexion, in a way that I couldn't find words to describe. He looked delicately handsome and clean, as if a fly perching on him would damage his beauty. He was a true wonder to behold in Capa.

"Good evening, Kara. I trust your day went well?" he said.

I liked the way he called me "Kara". Nobody had ever abbreviated my name that way. Everybody else preferred calling the name in full.

"Good evening, He–", I drawled.

"Henry", he finished my sentence.

He could tell I was trying to remember the name. I had heard of other names that had similar beginnings: Henshaw, Hendrix and Henry. Some of those names had been in the English texts we read in Mr. Lekia's classes. But I wasn't sure which one of them he bore.

"Good evening, Henry", I finally concluded, with a voice wavering in want of what next to say. I couldn't believe I was talking to someone that looked so different from me. He was from a totally different world. Our physical appearances clearly demarcated our worlds. But here we were standing together at the Y Junction, ignoring all our differences.

"Can we go fishing now?" he asked.

I consented. Then we ambled towards the stream. The sun was still up in the sky. Its rays were stark yellow. The rays made the evening colourful and bright. He asked me questions about the village and I gave him the answers I could, in all honesty.

"Who were the first settlers in this village?" he asked.

"The first settlers in this village were seven men. They were said to be warriors who had fought in the Great War, but who were tired of wars. They had escaped the destruction of the war and ran far away to look for a place far withdrawn from the war. That was how they settled here. A common myth has it that the seven Agura Hills are the transformed figures of the seven warriors", I gave him a long narrative reply.

"Why would they transform into hills?" he asked further.

"The myth has it that they transformed into hills to hide the village and protect it from intruders"

"That means they must have had some magical powers?"

"Oh yes, they did. If not they wouldn't be able to transform into hills"

We talked more as we ambled on. The road was lonely and empty except for both of us. I wanted to ask him questions about himself but fear wouldn't let me do that.

When we arrived the stream, we sat together on a log of wood at its bank. I brought out the hook. He took the calabash bowl and started pulling out earthworms from the soil. I was dumbfounded. What was he doing?

"Please don't do that!"

"Why?"

"You'll dirty yourself"

"I don't mind if I get dirty"

"But your parents may complain about it"

"My parents are not me", he retorted.

He picked quite a number of earthworms, just enough for the day's fishing. Then he brought back the calabash and sat next to me on the log of wood. I pulled out two strings and passed the sharp tip of the hook through them. Their delicate brown bodies twisted in protest. Then I threw the hook into the stream.

The yellow rays of the sun splashed on the dark face of the stream, giving off a radiant olive green colour. The green of the leaves of the surrounding bushes mixed with the yellow rays to give off chartreuse. The place looked naturally beautiful and serene. He asked me about my parents and I told him they had died. He felt pitiful. But he told me that I'd be fine.

I could feel something trapped on the hook, trying to escape it, and making it swerve from side to side.

"I think you've caught a fish!" he exclaimed.

I pulled out the hook from the stream. There was a big tilapia on it. Its scales looked finely red. It was the first time I'd caught a fish in about four days. We were both excited. There were many questions I longed to ask but fear didn't let me.

He took the hook from me, pulled out a string of earthworm from the calabash bowl, and fixed it on the hook. Then he threw it in the stream. It didn't take long before he caught another big tilapia. Our excitement lighted the place. It was a fine evening. We continued exchanging the hook and catching fish until the little bag I had on me was full. Then we opted to go home. Both of us were so full of excitement: I had caught a lot of fish and finally had something to sell; he had just learned how to fish.

As we sauntered home, I finally muscled some courage to ask him a question.

"How old are you?" I asked, with a faint voice.

"I'm 19", he answered, "I turned 19 last month"

He asked me to tell him my own age and I told him I was also nineteen. But I was a month older than him. I had turned nineteen one month before him. We talked on about different things. Then he begged me to come out the next day, so I could teach him how to set traps in the bush. All the while I had been wanting to ask him where he lived. I knew he wasn't staying in Capa. There were no brick houses in Capa except the one owned by the village chief, and I knew he wasn't the son of the village chief. Everybody knew all the children of the chief.

"I'll come out", I promised.

When we arrived the Y Junction, he handed the bag of fish to me. I offered him some of them but he only took one and gave me back the rest. I was surprised. Nobody in Capa would do that. But I was grateful anyway. We bade each other farewell.

When he left, I looked into the sky and admired the beautiful yellow of the fading sun. It smiled at me. I was glad it had smiled at me that day. Then I wondered what the world would be without the smiles of the sun.