Chapter One
Growing up had always been an adventure. There was always one new dare, one new scare, one rule to break, a new risk to take. I wasn't a bad kid? no, I just had an inquisitive mind and was pretty impressionable. And I had a circle of friends who were the right or wrong influence, depending on how you choose to look at it. There was Michael, tall, soft spoken, and deceptively calm. He was the natural athlete in our little circle. Many times he had been our saviour when we found ourselves in tight corners where words and sass couldn't bail us out. Which brings us to the other member of our trio, Sam. If Michael was the saviour, Sam would be the reason why we needed saving. He had a way of steering us into trouble with his 'innocent' way of being direct and unnecessarily vocal about everything. Sam always had an opinion about everything, and it never mattered to him if it was needed or not. He kept Michael busy. I was somewhere in the middle. I was the negotiator, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the occasional rumble, but I was more of a 'time and place' person. All in all, I can't say I regret any of those moments. I believe they were the foundation to the person I am today.
As I mentioned earlier, life as a child was a continuous adventure. We had friends who were more daring than we were, and did things we could only dream of doing. One of the most daring acts then was cutting classes. It may not be a big deal these days, but back then, it was right up there with the biggest adventures. Let me paint you a picture. Our daily routine was to meet at the top of the street and walked to school together. There were many distractions along the way to pull away the most focused of hearts, and then, we couldn't claim to belong to that category. We were just the normal average kids who loved a bit of fooling around. Our school was situated right in the heart of town, past the market, and the city saw-mill. We favoured a route which always took us through the market, winding through the stalls in the different sections till we would exit two streets away from our school. I attended a single gender education school, pretty popular for its students, most of whom would never be cited as worthy fellows to emulate, or be trusted to comport themselves in public without threat of drastic punitive measures. That was my school, and we absolutely loved it. The teachers did what they could to keep some semblance of order, and sanity within the stipulated school hours. They were quick discipline offenders, as any hesitation to do so would encourage a sporadic repeat of the offence or related offenses. So, it was all about going to school, staying under the radar, learning what we could, and managing to cram in some mischief somewhere in between as the occasion allowed for it. Looking back, I wonder how we managed to handle such pressure five days a week.
On this fateful day, Sam was recounting a story he heard the previous day about some guys who were brave enough to hitch a ride on the backs of trucks heading to the saw-mill, in order to avoid the long walk to school. It was usually done without the notice of the driver, else there would be lot of sore backsides and smarting ears.
"I wonder why we have never taken this opportunity, especially as we live farther away, and are in a better position to hitch a ride on any of these trucks. And they are not even driving so fast when we see them" he said.
"That's probably because we are smarter than they are" Michael replied in a voice that was not going to entertain further discussions.
We were still debating on the pro and cons of such a move, when suddenly, a truck headed our direction appeared. In the time it took to process this unexpected opportunity, Sam had reached out, grabbed the tailboard of the truck, and swung on. We stared in shock for some seconds, after the truck and Sam's impish face grinning at us.
"I have half a mind to really knock some sense into that boys head" Michael said in frustration as we went dashed after the truck.
Michael having the advantage of longer arms, reached out and swung unto the truck which was now gathering speed as the traffic was gradually thinning out. He reached out and hauled me in, and was staring balefully at Sam as if he wanted to murder him. I quickly stepped in between them, placing my hands on Michael's chest, pushing him back and trying to calm him down.
"Do you ever stop to think about the consequences of things before you do them?" Michael asked
"I don't see what the fuss is all about. We're all in here, aren't we?"
"We're here because you didn't give us much of a choice. I would really love to wring your neck right now" Michael said, taking a step towards him. I stepped between them again. This was going to be a very long ride, if things continued this way.
I heard a sound, and turning, I locked eyes with the driver through a slot in the panel behind us. He looked at me for a few seconds, and the slot slid shut. Almost immediately, the speed of the truck increased, while we hung onto the sides of the truck so as not to get injured.
"I think the driver knows we're here. Sam said I a terrified voice.
"You think?" replied Michael sarcastically. "Now you choose to think. You picked a really wonderful time to start thinking."
We watched streets whiz by until we were close to the turn off to our school. It was clear we would have to jump out of the speeding truck if we had any hopes of getting to school that day. I panicked at the thought of what awaited us when the truck finally stopped, coupled with the fact that we were going to be late to school, if we didn't miss it altogether.
"Guys, I think we may have to jump. I don't think the driver plans to let us out." I said as the truck sped on.
"I can't jump" Sam said, the terror he felt evident in his eyes as he clung to the side of the truck.
"Well that seems to be the only we're getting off." I have no plans of getting to the saw mill in this truck" I said.
Growing up in the ‘80s and the early ‘90s, one thing our parents usually underestimated was the power of desire we possessed, and our ability to make the seemingly impossible happen. There was little to do back then, except study for the best possible grades and chores. Television was mostly educational and informative. Cable was for the very rich. Only few homes could afford a phone, and it was a landline, which was locked more often than not. Computers were a thing of the future and only seen in movies, which only added to the mystery surrounding them. Add the occasional family outings and weekly mandatory church attendance, then you have a good picture of my life. It sounds pretty boring right? But that was life, and we were living it. A great deal of our entertainment came from hanging out with friends in the school yard during the break period. Then we’d tell stories of happenings at our homes, or in the home of a friend who had the misfortune of having us over on a day he got s seeing to from a parent for some misdemeanour. Another favourite pastime of ours was regaling each other with the stories of movies. You must understand that seeing movies frequently was not possible in every home. A lot of kids then were from home where there was a strict regulation of television time, and they were in bed by 9pm at the latest. Movies usually came on by 11pm, when it was assumed that every child was in bed. The only way to see a movie was to have a video cassette player (I’m sure this might sound unfamiliar), or have an accommodating, adventurous older relative who was willing to play cowboys and Indians at night, and sneak into the living room and allow you to be a part of the party.
I had a strong affinity for 007 movies, which my dad encouraged, being in a related line of work. He was my co-conspirator when it came to these movies, and would send me off to bed earlier on the nights when a 007 movie was billed to show, so he could come get me when the movie was about to start. I can’t remember having ever finished a lot of those movies, but I let my imagination do the rest whenever I had to narrate the movie to my friends in the schoolyard the next day. This usually gave one a VIP status all through that day, especially if you could embellish the story and make it long enough to guarantee a continuation after school hours. This continued for a while, till I guess my dad needed his sleep more, or he just got tired of having to carry my unconscious form back to bed, especially as I wasn’t getting lighter as I grew. As luck would have it, we had a series of older cousins and relatives in their teens start school or come visiting. Some were ardent movie buffs, and those who weren’t were easily initiated. Therefore, it wasn’t unusual to find them whispering and giggling among themselves as they recounted the adventures of the previous night. My curiosity got the best of me, and I asked them what all the drama was about. After a lot of cajoling and negotiation, I was able to discover what was going on. They were sneaking into the living room at night to see movies after we had all gone to bed. I was amazed. This was unheard of. I immediately started negotiating for a spot on the team. After an exchange of promises and threats from both sides, I was inducted into the band of night crawlers. I must point out that my fellow Indians were teenagers, and weren’t exactly expected to know what sort of movies a child below the age of 10 should be allowed to see. So on the nights I managed to tag along, I made do with whatever was on that night. At the time, television stations put out a lot of action packed movies or horror movies. There was no demand for anything other than these, and they went all out in their bid to satisfy their audience, which included little me. It was only natural that I would have nightmares after seeing some movies. (I must point out that horror movies back then were a lot more scary than they are now. I still don’t know what they did back then, but even my older relatives were just as terrified as I was, but managed to either escape the nightmares, or not scream out at night.) My parents soon began getting nightly visits from me when I couldn’t sleep.
As always, there’s always a bump in an otherwise smooth road. My fellow Indians, soon got tired of having to pacify me at night, or stand guard to ensure I didn’t go bothering my parents at night when I had nightmares. I was put on probation for a while, so I could get some sleep at night. Much as I didn’t like the idea, there was little or nothing I could do about it. This went on for a while till there was a freak occurrence that got me my spot back on the team. We had this black and white television set, and back then, there were no remote controls. We had knobs on television sets; power, volume control, picture adjustment, channel selection- all knobs. A television then looked like more like a gas cooker. Over time, the volume control knob got faulty, and this meant the television could suddenly start blaring. (Looking back now, I think it happened whenever there was some loud noise which caused a vibration that made the volume rise. I guess, I have no knowledge of these things) we had a few startled guests within this period. I eventually discovered how to handle this problem, and refused to share my secret. I was reluctantly let back in as they had not been able to see movies at night for a while. What we didn’t factor in was the simple fact that malfunctions only get worse if not corrected, it was only a matter of time.
Before I continue, I think it’s necessary to describe the architectural design of the house. We lived in a bungalow, which was divided into two sections. The living room, dining room, kitchen, and garage were on one side of the building, then a very long L-shaped corridor connected this part of the house to the bedrooms, bathroom and store room. Our rooms were on the side of the corridor, while my parent’s room faced the corridor, giving them an unrestricted view of the door to the living room. The bathroom and store room were on the short branch of the corridor. Sneaking into the sitting room was never an issue, it was having to make a trip to the bathroom in the middle of the movie that gave made us break into cold sweats. The normal practice was to go to the bathroom first, pretend to go back to our bedrooms, then wait a few minutes before sneaking into the living room.
So, on this fateful night, we were well into the movie, and we had gotten so engrossed in the movie that we forgot that the telly had a malfunction. I still remember we were seeing a war movie with a lot thing blowing up and gun battles every few minutes. I had to use the bathroom and dashed down the corridor, so as to hurry and catch up with the movie. While I was mid-stream, I hear the telly suddenly go full blast. It was so startling that I hosed down the walls before I could control myself. Next heard my parent’s room door open, and steps rushing towards the living room. I quietly finished my business and crept out. As I headed towards the bedroom, I heard my fellow Indians getting a good bollocking in the living room, and decided my allegiances were not that strong, and I was too young to qualify for life and accident insurance. I definitely got a lot of looks the next morning, but then, ‘he who fights and runs away…..’
