Whispering Meadows

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Chapter 2

 

It wasn’t easy to avoid people staring at me. I wasn’t the only black present there in Silver Clouds. In that case my whole family was black but I wondered what made others stare at me so weirdly. I shrunk my snub nose. It was disgusting to hear people gossip.

“Chunquetas, move aside!” I heard from my behind. Turning back I assumed it was addressed to me. All I met was a mocking smile in return. My brows went up irritably showing my displeasure meeting his gaze. It was true that I was leaning my body on the threshold to the entrance of the living room but there were enough space for him and his gangster clan to move on.

“Chunk-ettas… I said move aside!” I watched him pronounce the word giving break on every syllable. His white teeth appeared through his dark big lips as if he is going to grind me. John was not a bit close to his father, my kind Uncle Jake. I did not know exactly what he meant but I understood that he was bullying me. I am fat so what bothers him? I moved letting his clan walk pass by me. The boys mocked as they ran and I tried to hide the tears gathering into my eyes.

Although Uncle Jake was too kind to be good and polite to me his son was too mean that I rather prefer Chariot over him. The time I stepped into Silver Clouds I had wished to stay, stay here forever. But meeting my cousin I began to regret of the very same thought. It hasn’t been yet a day since I’ve met him but I couldn’t count the number of times he had made fun of me. I feel as I was a bird freed from the cage yet couldn’t fly because my wings were cut off. The eagerness of mine to explore around, run in the meadows and walk in wine yards vanished like a soap bubble ever since John landed here. Although he was living miles away from this land he owned Silver Clouds, the inheritance passed down to him. In the land of his, he acted the role of the future king while he treated me like his slave. Isn’t slavery unique to African mother lands? I thought angrily. I wasn’t frightened of him; I trusted my strength in knocking him down although he was twice the size of me. Yet I had troubled myself to cage my rebellious thoughts to be a good girl to the man who had been so kind to call me a beauty.

“Beth, come let’s go out” Jane pulled me by my arm. I shook my head. I did not want to stay anywhere close to John.

“Be nice to others Beth, don’t make us feel ashamed of you!” I could hear mother’s warning. That was what she told when I complained her about John. South Africa got freedom before I was born. But I haven’t got any ever since then.

I watched the coffin placed in the middle of the house. My Grandmother lies there peacefully. She wouldn’t have had a peaceful life before. Apartheid did no good for anyone, my mother would say. How would it be to die? Is it freedom of life? I don’t know. I was just a little bit curious to know. But unfortunately, my Grandma wouldn’t talk. Not then, not now.

I pinned my elbows on White brink as I watched greedily out the window. The gentle wind brushed my cheeks inviting me to the green meadows. I bit my lips painfully for I didn’t want to upset my mother. She had warned me not to behave in an untamed manner in front of her relatives. For some reason whether I fluttered my imaginary wings or not I could feel at least a couple of inquisitive eyes following me. I wondered whether it was same with Chariot and Jane.

“Why do they stare at me like that?” I asked mother. Her expressions changed. The scornful giggle made me turn my head behind to meet my elder sister’s mocking eyes.

“Who won’t miss a chance to watch a free show?” she muttered with that same smile carved in her face. I hated that smile. And the moment I met her eyes I regretted for raising the question now. I wasn’t aware of her presence.

“Do I look like a clown?” I couldn’t stop my thoughts converts to words. I asked angrily. Her thin brows went up carelessly.

“Haven’t you seen in the mirror?” it was her. I gritted my teeth and sprinted at her.

“Beth! What has happened to you? Don’t start a quarrel and make others laugh, say sorry to Chariot NOW!” Sensing my next approach my mother barked at me. Isn’t it painful to lose a war even before declaring war and knowing the opponent has been already given the victory? My eyes welled.

“But she started’ my voice went unheard. My mother shrugged and went away.

“Have something better to do, Clown!” Chariot’s whisper was prickly than sharp needles. I snorted. She Walked away to a rhythm which I hated to watch. I stared out the window once again. How blessed Jane was to find freedom to walk and play with her newly found friends? At that moment I hated being Elizabeth. I wonder why they had bothered to name me with such. I had been very proud to know that there were so many great women in history with the name of mine. I had once thought I was loved by my parents to name me so but today it has been a curse for no reason. “Queen of Chunqettas” John’s voice echoed in my ears refilling my eyes with hateful tears. Why does everyone hate me?

“Doesn’t she look different?”

“Oh! The other two look delicate don’t they?”

“Beth, you eat too much for your age, darling”

“ah! Beth is a menace, how do you manage at home Emma?” different voices echoed in my ears. I slammed my ears from my hand not letting anything enter my brain and ruin my thoughts.

It was hard to stare out the window and knowing that stepping out the house would make my mother angry. I already started to hate staying here at Silver Clouds now because every nook and corner was forbidden to me ever since the monstrous cousin landed on this ground. No matter where I went and what I did he had reasons to bother me and scream at me challengingly. It wasn’t a difficult task to fight against him although he was above average to his age. It wasn’t even my mother’s warnings but it was because of Uncle Jake that forced me to bottle up my anger. I did not want Uncle Jake to have a bad opinion about me. From the time my eyes set on him I saw his eyes glitter with unconditional love for me. Watching at John distantly I was wondering how he could be uncle Jake’s son. Perhaps he inherited some or more qualities from his beautiful and stylish mother Aunt Holy.

Aunt Holy was one delicate beauty. She looked real competition to mother although both of them tried to pretend as they were good old friends and got along very well. I don’t know how many people noticed the sudden changes of their emotions but I noticed them more often. End of every gorgeous smile I saw them shrink their noses or grimly lift their brows.

No matter how much they competed with each other, their being together was another reason for my disappointment. Both were like the sky and the earth yet they met each other for one specific purpose, Horizon! To show of a beautiful sight they pretended to be together.

“How happy she would have been to see her family around, poor Mrs. Finigons craved to be with her children lately…although until her last breath never forgave…”

“Thank you Mrs. Thomson for being with her, we appreciate a lot…why not have something to chill your good old soul? The season is boiling us already …Holy will you fetch her in, PLEASE?” Mother interrupted the good old neighbor. I watched them carefully. Mother took her gaze away from mine as soon as hers met my inquisitive gaze. Understanding my mother Aunt Holy had been prompt in accepting my mother’s request. It was more of a command yet this time aunt Holy did not bother what commands my mother made. Perhaps they did not want the old friend to talk about their bitter past. They sure didn’t want to label themselves as unfaithful children. No matter how tactful my mother and aunt had been it was difficult for me to erase the words the old lady muttered. Whom did grandma hate? And why did mother wanted to interrupt and throw nasty glances behind the woman?

A note to myselfChapter 03
4 Comments
  • even though I am reading this for the second time it never made me to lose my interest on it... loved the every bit of it! ♡♡♡

    Reply
    November 8, 2015 at 1:05 pm
    Posted by fazeena
  • Loving it! Keep up the good work sis

    Reply
    November 13, 2015 at 9:26 pm
    Posted by shana

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