Other

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IF TOMMORROW COMES BY ANNIE WANJIRU

It was quiet after the twilight of night. Office workers and Shoppers had long deserted the street. In a dark alley off the street, a lone figure stood watching the street. They leave early for homes, I stand here waiting, I only wish for food and clean clothes, and then I can leave early for home.

The young man watched the street closely, wishing to exit from his mind the painful recollections. You do not belong in the streets. You must forget, forget completely and start all over again, the sister at the Rehabilitation Centre was telling him. The memories continued to come unbidden. Oh my son, you are destined for great things. Read, read my son!
Mummy! I am going to make good the promise. Only this last time I will rob them. I will get good food and clean clothes and a job. This last time Mummy.

The cool July breeze drifted unforgiving into the dark alleys. The young man shivered, feeling cold wind of despair sweep through him. He hugged himself tight. The Khaki Shorts and long shirt he wore barely protected him from the harsh weather.
Oh! He groaned. The cold of pierced his skin even more and reached his bones. Despair and dire need vied for control of his mind. Need prevailed. He would remain at the edge of the dark unwelcoming alley as long as he had to. The last time. He had noise, rapid approaching footsteps. He froze, listening keenly to ascertain the direction of the steps. The steps were now very near. He listened carefully and peeped to see who was approaching. A man in a dark overcoat. A satisfied glad employee. He crouched and listened.

He was ready. Prepared by the glue he had been sniffing all day and schooled by many bitter disappointments and biting hunger. He sprang from where he was crouched, an animal going for the kill, and landed on the street. Instantaneously, he flashed his butcher knife in the light and then concealed the weapon under his shirt. "Money!" he hissed harshly to the man who stood before him puzzled.

The man in a black coat reached into the inner breast pocket of his coat with his right hand and then suddenly swung his leg viciously towards his attacker. The one trained in the streets had been watching, alert. He staggered backwards, avoiding the parabola identical to that of the man's limb and moved around his prey in a curve. He unslung his butchers knife from between his short and body under his shirt. Holding his weapon close to his belly and pointing away from himself, he lunged for the man a black coat. The man dived into the dark alley. The gutter fighter covered the opening. He had his quarry where he wanted him. He moved into the alley, causing the man to venture deeper into the darkness. "Money, rat or I will sell your flesh for whatever it is worth", he hissed replacing his butcher knife under his shirt. He perceived movement in the darkness within the alley.

He stood still, waiting. A plea for leniency, a promise of big money. He was getting close home. He moved forward. Suddenly he veered backwards as the mans shoe made contact with his jaw. The man in a black coat had struck him hard. He steadied himself and studied the darkness for movement. He spotted his prey and made towards the man. Again, the man struck him on the jaw. He staggered backwards, wincing in pain, the taste of blood in his mouth. A vicious fighter his would be victim was turning out to be. I should take off now that I can, and try again when my star shines brighter ... It is when you are hardest hit that you must linger, fight on till you win. The message came to him through the tunnel of his past from a time so long gone when he still had his meals in his mother’s kitchen. He sensed movement. He kicked out hard. His foot caught his adversary, on the belly, knocking the man over. Then he was an immaculately clean office, carpeted from wall to wall. He was clutching his elementary school certificate. Your ticket to a better life, the sister at the rehab center had told him
It was his third visit to the office. He walked cautiously, feeling his presence in the office was an insult to the organization. Fearing a rebuke from the Secretary who stared wide-eyed at him, obviously unbelieving he had returned to the office, he opened the door to the Managing Director's Office and let himself in.

Hound, Dirt, Clean yourself first and then seek a job. We do not offer our employees advance pay to buy clothes. Get out! The man's voice sounded like thunder. Dark clouds hovered threateningly in the young man's mind. A violent storm tore through him. He made sure confident steps towards the man in a black suit and grabbed his jangular vein. He tightened his grip on his victim’s neck until the man in a black suit stopped moving.

The man in a black coat did not stop moving. The young man pressed his victim harder on the concrete wall, covering him with his whole body to curtail his any movement, his hands gripping on the man's neck. The man in a black coat coughed as the grip on his neck tightened. The young man's eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, but he did not see the man he was chocking raise his right arm. The raised arm was crushed onto the young mans upraised forehead. Destabilized by the impact of the blow, the young man lost his grip of the man's neck.

Oh Mummy. This last time then I will keep my promise to you. You will be big and famous, my son. Read your books son. Therein lays the secret, his mother was telling him.

The young man rammed his head onto his enemy’s belly. He was back to his boyhood days. Gabbage eater. Your colleague is dead. Do you want to follow. The policeman spat venom with his every word. The young man unslung his butcher knife from under his shirt and dived for the man he was fighting.

He was fighting the policeman who had killed his little brother, his mother's youngest boy-child. The policeman had struck the boy's head with the butt of his gun. A punishment for kicking the law enforcer. Blood had streamed from the broken flesh on the boy's head. First, in gentle streams, then it flowed in rivers, spreading all over the boy's face and drowning the tears from his eyes. His little brother had writhed and kicked, bawling uncontrollably. The policeman continued to hit, striking the little boy all the more harder until he unleashed his final fatal blow. The policeman then strutted away, after threatening to charge the young man with the murder of the boy.

After the Policeman left, he collected his brother's almost lifeless body from the ground on the backstreet and held it in his arms. Blood spread on his ragged shirt at he cuddled the dying boy closer to himself. Life slowly ebbed out of the little body. Ha never wept when his brother gave up the spirit. He placed the body in the alley-where he sat and covered the corpse with his shirt. Shirtless he scampered away to seek something to fight his biting hunger.

The young man grabbed the man in a black coat on the waist and pushed his butcher’s knife into the man's belly. His victim let out a chilling cry as the knife cut through flesh. He pulled out the knife and almost immediately two fists crushed onto the back of his head. The young man collapsed.

Let trouble be. Avoid harms way, the sister at the rehab center was screaming into his hears. He had to get the man's wallet and walk away from all the trouble he had walked towards. Like he had walked from the immaculately clean office with a rich man’s wallet concealed under his shirt. His efforts to raise himself were thwarted when he was crushed on the face with what he thought to be a rock boulder. Excruciating agony filled his body as he slammed the back of his head on the ground. Blood gushed from his nose. Another boulder was crushed between his stomach and ribcage. He felt his body disintegrate into various components, overwhelmed by unbearable pain.

Mummy! I want to get away. I promised you Mummy, I would keep away from the fights with others, Come for me Mama. He tried to move his legs. The limbs had turned into steel bars. The flames circled around him albeit from a distance. Loneliness engulfed him. The crippling, devastating feeling of being all alone in a cruel world. The promises at the rehab center. A new beginning. A different life. A job. A family, The reality? A grim opposite of what he had ever expected. He had returned to his old life in the dark alleys.

The flames licked the wood close to where he lay. Very soon the fire would engulf him. Where was his Mummy. He chocked. Had Mummy left him to their enemies? Their house had been set on fire by armed attackers. Without a roof over their heads anymore, his mother had moved her small family to the streets in the city. He saw his mother. Standing in the flames with his little brother and yet neither of them burning. She was beckoning him to herself. He made towards her and flew into her arms, feeling like he had taken a major sniff of his cherished glue.

The man in the black coat removed his hand from the urchins neck and leaned on the concrete wall, exhaling deeply. Getting clobbered in a dark alley was some way to end a day of hard work and overtime. He wondered how he would make it to his wife arid child. His Tina would now have all the proof she needed to tell him how right she had been on the need to get home early and avoid overtime. The streets were too unsafe. She had never understood that their young family would never survive on his meager income. He held the wound on his belly with his left hand and struggled to his feet.

Bubbling anger rose in him. The filthy urchin had ruined his evening. He shifted his mass from where he leaned on the concrete wall. His head felt heavy and the blood still dripped from the wound on his belly. He supported himself on the concrete wall with his right hand and began the painful journey towards the light at the end of the alley. Hopefully, if he got speedy help, and be treated and discharged by morning. He got to the light at the end of the alley and stood in the light outside the shoe store briefly. Using all the strength he required to remain vertical, he called out for help from some watchman at nearby buildings and collapsed.

He did not know how long he had been lying outside the Shoe store. He was vaguely away of being lifted from the ground. The other one is just a street urchin, and he is almost dead. Let's leave him, he barely heard one of his helpers say.
- END -

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