It was Christmas Eve. Hassan walked out of the barn and was immediately struck by the biting cold. The cold reminded him of the time of year, and he grinned to himself looking forward to the warm meal his mother would have set out for him when he returned. This made him quicken his pace a notch, and he soon found himself out in the open fields whistling to himself. The last dregs of a red sunset were disappearing behind the clouds and an involuntary shudder ran through him. He had imagined a sound as he left the barn - a short, quick whisper maybe - but he quickly reprimanded himself for his silly daydreams. He was a dreamer - he made no bones about it - but to scare yourself half to death when alone on a winter's night, now that was foolishness!
But soon his thoughts turned towards home, and he felt warm inside. His mother would be happy when he gave her the money. She had been against his decision to work at the barn. "The white folk don't care for us", she said. "Slaves we were, and slaves we will be". That was her favourite saying these days. When father died, she couldn't get herself to accept that it was just fate that snatched him away from her - she suspected the villagers of foul play, and nothing Hassan said would change her mind. "You watch out for yourself, boy", she said "Never trust noone". Another of her mottoes.
But this would change her mind. Ten whole dollars! He could buy grain, and the blanket for little Tabitha, and still have some spare for a rainy day! Even mother could not say that the "white folk" had not been generous to Hassan. The old couple had been somewhat reluctant to accept him, mind you, but Hassan had pleaded his case well and the old lady had finally relented - letting him wash the animals and clear out the barn for a few dollars. Her husband was getting far too old to do it himself, she said, and who was going to find out? Although it was forbidden for black people to work in the village, she had smuggled him into the barn in the darkness and paid him well for his labours. Hassan was never one to forget a favour, and he thanked the old lady in his heart, and prayed for her happiness.
A stray cat ran across his path, and he thought he saw a silhouette in the distant trees. He crossed himself and muttered a prayer for his safety as he entered the patch of trees. The trees has been planted there by the villagers in order to keep the "vermin" outside of their wonderful village. "The government may want this filth to live, but I'll be damned if we allow it to steal our jobs and our land", the local Mayor had said, to raucous applause from the grinning mob. Hassan grimaced at the memory. He had been there when Mayor Stone had spoken to the village - hiding in the bushes in the hope of seeing Liz in the crowd. Liz! What a smile she had! He had seen her many times as she played with her friends on the borders of the forest. He had even left her a few flowers one day, and found a note in it's place the next day - she had thanked him! Of the joy! But then he had heard the Mayor's speech and was filled with disgust. It was no secret that the Mayor and most of his followers had been in the infamous KKK in their time. Even though the organisation was outlawed by the Federal government, people like Stone had continued to use their power to rally support for suppressing black freedom any way they could.
Hassan shook the snow from his head to clear away these dreadful thoughts. He was an optimist, he laughed to himself, and he hoped that someday he would be able to go upto Liz's parents and ask her hand in marriage. He was hard working, and a good person, so why not? But he knew in his heart of hearts that there was a fine line between optimism and daydreaming - and he was walking it.
As these thoughts ran through his head, he suddenly walked into a clearing. Strange, he thought to himself, I don't remember seeing this before - I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. He turned to retrace his steps - and immediately knew something was amiss. The bushes around the clearing were alive with people .. and hunting dogs. Up ahead he saw a torch and a hood beside it. "Who's there?", he cried, knowing that he did not want to hear the answer. "It talks", someone said, and the rest sniggered. There were at least ten of them, Hassan figured. "Please let me go my way, I mean no harm!", he said, as his heartbeat quickened. "No harm?" said the person under the white hood as he walked out into the open. "Did it say, `NO harm?' Why you lying, stealing piece of shit!", he said, slapping Hassan across the face. Mother was right to warn me about the job, he said to himself. "I didn't steal nothin'", he said, "I was paid for my work is all". But he knew this was futile. "Since when are rats like you allowed to work in our fair town?", the man in the hood said, as a murmur ran through the crowd. "You steal from hard working folk and then lie about it!", the man said, as he grabbed the money from Hassan's pockets. How did he know it was there? I must've been followed from the barn, Hassan thought, remembering the quiet whispers.
The man continued to talk, as Hassan let his gaze roam over the crowd. What he first thought was ten people, was in reality, closer to twenty. Strong lad though he was, and an eternal optimist, he knew he was not going to be able to brave his way out of this one. They had him cornered, and he knew it. The others saw the fear and resignation in his eyes, and they knew they had their prey. ".. and working in our homes, feeding our cattle?!", the white hood was talking now. Hassan looked back at him, in the vain hope that he wasn't being asked a question. He had taken off the hood now - it was Stone. He should've known. ".. and I've seen him stare at my daughter, the lecherous pig!". Liz's father was in the crowd too, apparently. Hassan's head was reeling. He thought he was going to faint from the fear, but as he thought of his mother waiting for him at home, his little sister, his dead father, and all the good and bad things in his life - he felt a cold, calm anger well up inside him. He had to stop this madness. He looked around for a weapon, and saw a pitchfork in the hands of a drunken man to his left. As swift as he could, he lunged at it with all his might, grabbing thin air. The bastard had moved just in time, and Hassan fell to the ground.
Stone walked upto him, and placed his foot on Hassan's neck, pressing down slowly but surely. Bending down low, he said, "I hope your mama sees you tomorrow". Standing up, he signaled to the dogs, saying "He's all yours boys - make sure you eat your fill". And then the beasts converged on him. Looking up, all he could see was the mad look on their faces. And all he could think of was Tabitha in a new blue blanket.
But soon his thoughts turned towards home, and he felt warm inside. His mother would be happy when he gave her the money. She had been against his decision to work at the barn. "The white folk don't care for us", she said. "Slaves we were, and slaves we will be". That was her favourite saying these days. When father died, she couldn't get herself to accept that it was just fate that snatched him away from her - she suspected the villagers of foul play, and nothing Hassan said would change her mind. "You watch out for yourself, boy", she said "Never trust noone". Another of her mottoes.
But this would change her mind. Ten whole dollars! He could buy grain, and the blanket for little Tabitha, and still have some spare for a rainy day! Even mother could not say that the "white folk" had not been generous to Hassan. The old couple had been somewhat reluctant to accept him, mind you, but Hassan had pleaded his case well and the old lady had finally relented - letting him wash the animals and clear out the barn for a few dollars. Her husband was getting far too old to do it himself, she said, and who was going to find out? Although it was forbidden for black people to work in the village, she had smuggled him into the barn in the darkness and paid him well for his labours. Hassan was never one to forget a favour, and he thanked the old lady in his heart, and prayed for her happiness.
A stray cat ran across his path, and he thought he saw a silhouette in the distant trees. He crossed himself and muttered a prayer for his safety as he entered the patch of trees. The trees has been planted there by the villagers in order to keep the "vermin" outside of their wonderful village. "The government may want this filth to live, but I'll be damned if we allow it to steal our jobs and our land", the local Mayor had said, to raucous applause from the grinning mob. Hassan grimaced at the memory. He had been there when Mayor Stone had spoken to the village - hiding in the bushes in the hope of seeing Liz in the crowd. Liz! What a smile she had! He had seen her many times as she played with her friends on the borders of the forest. He had even left her a few flowers one day, and found a note in it's place the next day - she had thanked him! Of the joy! But then he had heard the Mayor's speech and was filled with disgust. It was no secret that the Mayor and most of his followers had been in the infamous KKK in their time. Even though the organisation was outlawed by the Federal government, people like Stone had continued to use their power to rally support for suppressing black freedom any way they could.
Hassan shook the snow from his head to clear away these dreadful thoughts. He was an optimist, he laughed to himself, and he hoped that someday he would be able to go upto Liz's parents and ask her hand in marriage. He was hard working, and a good person, so why not? But he knew in his heart of hearts that there was a fine line between optimism and daydreaming - and he was walking it.
As these thoughts ran through his head, he suddenly walked into a clearing. Strange, he thought to himself, I don't remember seeing this before - I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. He turned to retrace his steps - and immediately knew something was amiss. The bushes around the clearing were alive with people .. and hunting dogs. Up ahead he saw a torch and a hood beside it. "Who's there?", he cried, knowing that he did not want to hear the answer. "It talks", someone said, and the rest sniggered. There were at least ten of them, Hassan figured. "Please let me go my way, I mean no harm!", he said, as his heartbeat quickened. "No harm?" said the person under the white hood as he walked out into the open. "Did it say, `NO harm?' Why you lying, stealing piece of shit!", he said, slapping Hassan across the face. Mother was right to warn me about the job, he said to himself. "I didn't steal nothin'", he said, "I was paid for my work is all". But he knew this was futile. "Since when are rats like you allowed to work in our fair town?", the man in the hood said, as a murmur ran through the crowd. "You steal from hard working folk and then lie about it!", the man said, as he grabbed the money from Hassan's pockets. How did he know it was there? I must've been followed from the barn, Hassan thought, remembering the quiet whispers.
The man continued to talk, as Hassan let his gaze roam over the crowd. What he first thought was ten people, was in reality, closer to twenty. Strong lad though he was, and an eternal optimist, he knew he was not going to be able to brave his way out of this one. They had him cornered, and he knew it. The others saw the fear and resignation in his eyes, and they knew they had their prey. ".. and working in our homes, feeding our cattle?!", the white hood was talking now. Hassan looked back at him, in the vain hope that he wasn't being asked a question. He had taken off the hood now - it was Stone. He should've known. ".. and I've seen him stare at my daughter, the lecherous pig!". Liz's father was in the crowd too, apparently. Hassan's head was reeling. He thought he was going to faint from the fear, but as he thought of his mother waiting for him at home, his little sister, his dead father, and all the good and bad things in his life - he felt a cold, calm anger well up inside him. He had to stop this madness. He looked around for a weapon, and saw a pitchfork in the hands of a drunken man to his left. As swift as he could, he lunged at it with all his might, grabbing thin air. The bastard had moved just in time, and Hassan fell to the ground.
Stone walked upto him, and placed his foot on Hassan's neck, pressing down slowly but surely. Bending down low, he said, "I hope your mama sees you tomorrow". Standing up, he signaled to the dogs, saying "He's all yours boys - make sure you eat your fill". And then the beasts converged on him. Looking up, all he could see was the mad look on their faces. And all he could think of was Tabitha in a new blue blanket.
1 comment:
great work, scary as shit and dark as hell, but great anyway (or maybe because of it)
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