I’ve been trying to take more risks with this blog lately. Posting fiction feels like a huge risk to me. I’m not quite comfortable with my abilities to write in this style although I love doing it and find it cathartic. I haven’t checked my facts and this is just a rough draft. Two of the characters in my story are named after my favorite kids in Swaziland, but just to be clear this is fictional. So here it is, read, enjoy (hopefully) and comment at the end cause I love comments! Ok only comment if you have nice things to say, just kidding, well kind of kidding =)…
This story is continued from http://morganmckeown.theworldrace.org/?filename=fiction
All Eliza
could see was fuzzy blue. She was swaying back and forth moving
rhythmically. Heavy 
foot steps and labored breathing filled her
ears, but they were not her own. As the green and blue world of the
sugar cane field and sky came slowly into focus Eliza realized that
large harry white arms were carrying her though the stalks. If Eliza
had the energy she would have tried to run again, but nothing flowed
through her exhausted body. Too tired to keep her eyes open she
closed the tender, swollen, bruised slits and let her mind drift
through the events that brought her to the fields.
It was just one moon ago, Eliza stood
in her only dress quietly clutching her older brother Thulane’s hand
as they sang the burial songs over her mother. At that moment death
felt pretend, like the story books she used to read in school. Some
cried, others stood stone faced, not able to expend the energy and
weep at yet another funeral. Without her mother Eliza felt like the
ground during dry season, parched, cracking, dust easily blown by the
capricious wind. The group of mourners stood in a tight circle
singing the deep, haunting melody of the funeral song heard all too
often in their corner of Swaziland.
in her only dress quietly clutching her older brother Thulane’s hand
as they sang the burial songs over her mother. At that moment death
felt pretend, like the story books she used to read in school. Some
cried, others stood stone faced, not able to expend the energy and
weep at yet another funeral. Without her mother Eliza felt like the
ground during dry season, parched, cracking, dust easily blown by the
capricious wind. The group of mourners stood in a tight circle
singing the deep, haunting melody of the funeral song heard all too
often in their corner of Swaziland.
Eliza remembered the soft feel of her
mother’s calloused hands and the strength in her body as she would
hoist huge bags of dried food onto her head and carry them the 3
kilometers home from the store. After much begging her mom would
finally give in and allow Eliza to carry a small bag. She would
walk, tall and proud imitating her mother’s confident steps, trying
not to let the bag slip to the left or right. At the end of the walk
her mom would gently pat Eliza’s small shoulders and say, “my what
a strong little lady, soon you will be carrying the big bags,� then
wrap her arms around in a quick hug. Eliza fought the thoughts of
her mom, she did not want others to know her weakness.
mother’s calloused hands and the strength in her body as she would
hoist huge bags of dried food onto her head and carry them the 3
kilometers home from the store. After much begging her mom would
finally give in and allow Eliza to carry a small bag. She would
walk, tall and proud imitating her mother’s confident steps, trying
not to let the bag slip to the left or right. At the end of the walk
her mom would gently pat Eliza’s small shoulders and say, “my what
a strong little lady, soon you will be carrying the big bags,� then
wrap her arms around in a quick hug. Eliza fought the thoughts of
her mom, she did not want others to know her weakness.
Across the circle from Eliza he stood,
straight and ridged with hands clasped in angry fists. She was
afraid of what her fathers black eyes held. He had taken to the
bitter fermented drink over the last few months. As her mom got
sicker, he got meaner. There was no avoiding his rages in the one
room stick and mud hut they all shared. Thulane her older brother
took the brunt. He would throw his, small for his age, 13 year old
body on top of Eliza trying to protect her from the blows.
straight and ridged with hands clasped in angry fists. She was
afraid of what her fathers black eyes held. He had taken to the
bitter fermented drink over the last few months. As her mom got
sicker, he got meaner. There was no avoiding his rages in the one
room stick and mud hut they all shared. Thulane her older brother
took the brunt. He would throw his, small for his age, 13 year old
body on top of Eliza trying to protect her from the blows.
Before her mom got sick and her father
lost his job their life had been peaceful. Every day was the same.
Eliza would wake up to the hungry cries of Machubane her youngest
brother. Her father was gone, working in the sugarcane fields from
the first light. It was different then. Machubane would snuggle
himself close to their mother making soft contented coos and sighs as
he sucked down his breakfast. Eliza would then begin to prepare the
morning meal. It took all of her 8 year old strength to pour the
water and white dried corn called milly-meal into the pot over the
fire. After everyone ate and their bellies were full, Eliza would
hurry to change into her school uniform, which had been washed and
neatly set out next to her sleeping mat by her mom the night before.
lost his job their life had been peaceful. Every day was the same.
Eliza would wake up to the hungry cries of Machubane her youngest
brother. Her father was gone, working in the sugarcane fields from
the first light. It was different then. Machubane would snuggle
himself close to their mother making soft contented coos and sighs as
he sucked down his breakfast. Eliza would then begin to prepare the
morning meal. It took all of her 8 year old strength to pour the
water and white dried corn called milly-meal into the pot over the
fire. After everyone ate and their bellies were full, Eliza would
hurry to change into her school uniform, which had been washed and
neatly set out next to her sleeping mat by her mom the night before.
She would run to two kilometers to
school in her broken, one size too small, sandals, chatting with the
other girls all on their way to form two. Eliza loved watching the
world, the cows lazily crossing the road, the goats fighting for the
top position, the small children washing at the water hole. Her home
was beautiful. In the wet season the butterflies would dance on the
wind and the green sugar cane fields leading to the flat topped
Lymbobo mountains held nothing but promise. She was grateful for the
fields, thankful for the job it provided her papa and the food she
got to help her mother cook.
school in her broken, one size too small, sandals, chatting with the
other girls all on their way to form two. Eliza loved watching the
world, the cows lazily crossing the road, the goats fighting for the
top position, the small children washing at the water hole. Her home
was beautiful. In the wet season the butterflies would dance on the
wind and the green sugar cane fields leading to the flat topped
Lymbobo mountains held nothing but promise. She was grateful for the
fields, thankful for the job it provided her papa and the food she
got to help her mother cook.
The teacher repeated the words again
and again while pointing at the pictures. “House,� she would say
while pointing to the large white building that looked more like the
Spar store in the next town over then anything Eliza had ever lived
in. Either way, she would write the words in her notebook and
commit them to memory, hoping some day she would be able to use
English. More then anything Eliza wanted good grades so that she
could continue in school and then have a real job. She dreamed of
sitting in a beautiful modern office every day, wearing crisp new
skirts and blouses, typing quickly, answering phones and responsibly
filing papers.
and again while pointing at the pictures. “House,� she would say
while pointing to the large white building that looked more like the
Spar store in the next town over then anything Eliza had ever lived
in. Either way, she would write the words in her notebook and
commit them to memory, hoping some day she would be able to use
English. More then anything Eliza wanted good grades so that she
could continue in school and then have a real job. She dreamed of
sitting in a beautiful modern office every day, wearing crisp new
skirts and blouses, typing quickly, answering phones and responsibly
filing papers.
As soon as classes were over Eliza
would run back to their hut, trade her school uniform for an old tee
shirt filled with holes and a piece of material wrapped around her
lithe hips, then sprint back into the bright sun. She and Thulane
loved to explore. They would jog along the sandy river banks until
they found tall trees with no thorns. Climbing came naturally to
Eliza. She would wrap her arms around the highest branch she could
reach, then swing her legs up and around hoisting her lanky body to
the next level. Thulane was faster and stronger, but he often let
Eliza lead. The feeling of climbing and seeing the world from above
made Eliza’s heart fly. From her perch high above the river, she
would watch the huge birds soaring above the green fields, riding
effortlessly on the wind.
would run back to their hut, trade her school uniform for an old tee
shirt filled with holes and a piece of material wrapped around her
lithe hips, then sprint back into the bright sun. She and Thulane
loved to explore. They would jog along the sandy river banks until
they found tall trees with no thorns. Climbing came naturally to
Eliza. She would wrap her arms around the highest branch she could
reach, then swing her legs up and around hoisting her lanky body to
the next level. Thulane was faster and stronger, but he often let
Eliza lead. The feeling of climbing and seeing the world from above
made Eliza’s heart fly. From her perch high above the river, she
would watch the huge birds soaring above the green fields, riding
effortlessly on the wind.
Those days didn’t feel like four years
ago they felt like a different existence.
ago they felt like a different existence.
As the footsteps continued on the man
holding Eliza begin taking labored breaths. He stopped for a quick
second to hoist her higher and tighter in his arms then fell back
into a jog. Eliza became aware of the stark whiteness of his arms
and thick course hair that covered them. As she wondered where he
was taking her, dark begin to encroach on her world. It started at
the edge of her vision then penetrated inward until the world was
like a night with no moon and her thoughts were silenced.
holding Eliza begin taking labored breaths. He stopped for a quick
second to hoist her higher and tighter in his arms then fell back
into a jog. Eliza became aware of the stark whiteness of his arms
and thick course hair that covered them. As she wondered where he
was taking her, dark begin to encroach on her world. It started at
the edge of her vision then penetrated inward until the world was
like a night with no moon and her thoughts were silenced.
