SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)

Part One: 10

The sun was setting beyond the mountains. Shards of dimmed orange-red light pierced a large rain bearing cloud, lining the hulking greyness with golden halo. Change was in the wind, autumn was in the air, in the leaves falling, the silent gusts tempting the lake whose surface responded with a thousand shimmering waves that eddied gracefully towards land.

A thousand birds were singing on the neem tree, once or twice, a twig fell from nests under construction.

During his brief walk around, Pa Jacob had met a few migratory birds making themselves at home, a white necked stork, majestically strutting around shallow water, it’s head dove down for food.  A duck quacked noisily on while little yellow ducklings pipped up a cacophony of yip-yaps in tow. Oddly, he thought of a fictional mermaid lurking underneath the water, it felt about right, something around this lake felt almost magical. And it was always home.

Pa Jacob picked a twig off his shoulder and stood up. It was time to leave. He whistled all the way back. Something about the wind picking up under the darkening sky was refreshing; something about a few young familiar faces he had met that Monday was reassuring.

During the break he had ensured a total overhaul as far as his office could, the standby generator was serviced, the fire extinguishers checked, fire alarms, water systems, everything he could get his hands on and now that school had begun, he was proud of his work. He was pretty sure, the Mona Lisa bust (recently cleaned, smiling knowingly from her enclave underneath a stunted Marula) agreed.

It was way past twilight—and he was about settling before TV with a bottle of beer after attending to a sumptuous meal of Fufu with egusi soup—when some knuckles rapped on the screen door of his apartment.

He bore his weight off the sofa which sighed, and made for the door. He swiped aside the new curtain Mama Nosa had taken the pain of helping him buy. The door creaked quietly and through the nettings on the screen door, Pa Jacob could see that Andy was standing outside. “good evening,” he smiled.

Underneath the hundred-watt bulb at the patio, Pa Jacob noticed a bit of an upgrade in the younger man. He had shaven, Pa Jacob fancied that was because of his sly suggestion. Andy sure looked better for it. A doe-eyed Samoyed was Nestled in his arm.

Pa Jacob invited him in alongside the now excited puppy. The first thing it did was give a repeated bark in its small voice. Then growled in protest as Andy gently stroked its scruff, putting it down. “quite a bit of work this one.” Andy said, sitting down.

“I like it already.” Pa Jacob replied, extending his hand to pet it. The dog didn’t protest, that was good.

“I think it’s mutual then.” Andy said. As if in response, it barked, twice.

Pa Jacob almost got his hand on a bottle of chilled beer in the refrigerator before it slammed on to him that this particular guest would go with something else. he reached for a bottle of mountain-dew instead.

While Andy had his fill, the puppy sat on its haunches looking at Pa Jacob with large soulful eyes as if it was studying him, something about the contemplative expression made him wonder if there was something beyond beastly instincts behind those eyes. Pa Jacob reached for it and ruffle its scruff as gently as he could. The puppy strutted back to Andy who was smiling, but it wouldn’t stop at that, it ran past him and was soon underneath a stool, it came out following a rolling tennis ball.

“I still have that?” Pa Jacob asked, amused. “you can keep it.” The Samoyed looked back at the sound of his voice, one small glance and it was back to playing.

“I’m glad you like it.” Andy said dropping the leash curled in his hand on the table. He slung off the shoulder strap of his bag, rummaged through and brought out two chew toys. “Keeps it from chewing the furniture.” He said, “Mother sends her regard. I’m glad you’d take her off our hands.”