Posted by Fumi Bankole on October 22, 2008 at 9:05pm
Chapter OneSharp pebbles bit through the seat of the girl’s fatigues while she sat in the tunnel’s narrow path and stared at the wall ahead of her. There it was, clearly chiseled, her namesake and destiny. Up until now, Messob was simply the lyric that drew her attention and which, in twenty years, she thought she had grown into. As a gust of tunnel air toyed with her long, hazel curls, Messob scooted onto her feet and stood up. There was a haggle of teenagers searching the walls for their own destinies ten meters to her left and a lone reader several meters to her right. She breathed hard and took a step closer to read it for the third time:“All praises due to God for Republic of Kalifornia. Contraband missiles destroy cities and farmland of our beloved Ethiopia. Sent troops when no United Nations to help, no mercy for us from the West. In 2120, we came to republic in five fighter jets and battleship to repay favor. General Haile Messob, direct descendent of His Imperial Majesty, led us in combat at Kalifornia border. Our ship lost. Kalifornians housed us in Sky City until turned against general, banishing us for blood that makes skin brown.”The teenagers were moving on, leaving Messob alone with the man who suddenly burst into laughter and blurted out, “Woo wee.”“What, found yourself?” Messob said loudly enough to carry the distance.“Yeah, and after how many years?” The man readjusted the worn leather top hat that compressed his bushy hair. “Let’s see, I’m almost thirty. Whatever. It’s been some time.”“You don’t look it.” Messob said.“Who does in this tomb?” he said. “Besides, I enjoy the medicines of music and natural mystic.”“What’s your name?”“Ziggy Stardust. Ziggy.” A momentary blank stare made him seem doubtful.“You sure?” Messob said. He glanced at her.“I think he was a made up guy. Funny thing is I really do play guitar. And I’m left-handed.”“So it won’t be hard to internalize,” Messob said, thankful for the interlude.She wandered over and followed the man’s eyes to the wall. Together they read some of it; she silently, he out loud:“Ziggy played guitar/jammin’ good…the spiders from Mars…played it left hand… then we were Ziggy’s band…”“Yeah, this is all me,” Ziggy said. He laughed again and hitched up multi-patched jeans.“I just found me too. Over there,” Messob said, pointing.“Sonia Sanchez?” he said. Messob rolled her eyes. Her voice was heavy.“Not hardly. A war general.”Messob began a quick return to her funk. It just could not be her name. There was a mistake, perhaps just a consonant or a syllable, skewering the meaning that should have been tutor or doula or oils mixer.“We were just talking about their Laws for Racial Coexistence. Crazy eh, thosetests?” Ziggy said, drawing Messob back to the moment.“I’m no war general,” Messob said, resisting the urge to rub her eyes for fear of grinding dirt into them. “We don’t deal with war.”“I used to deny who I was. Trust me. It ain’t worth it. You should read the Republic of Kalifornia’s Constitution?”“I read it.”“It’s a stack of farts ‘bout to bust. Maybe you’ll have a hand in that.”Messob winced at that prospect. She knew alphabets, signs, and symbols. She knew the trader patois that conjoined Spanish to Indio and Korean to English.Language was at her mental fingertip, and like most other tunnel dwellers, she had been walking and reading it since her youth. By far, the gory soldier confessions scribbled in guilty syndrome-ridden hand disturbed her most. The name was wrong.“You going up to Ground Zero?” Ziggy said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out.”Messob shrugged. Of course he hadn’t seen her; she never went. Ziggy kneeled and picked up a large, pieced-together backpack that, once strapped on, shot up into a turret above his head. The emzees discouraged going outside. As far as Messob knew, it was reserved for the Outzone workers and was a last resort safe haven if something cataclysmic happened in the tunnels below. Otherwise, it was far too dangerous. Besides a well-gossiped den for the submerged tenth, the sky was lethal. At once, she felt an agoraphobic tightening of her throat.“We’re always up there playing music.” Ziggy looked around while Messob was quiet, allowing the pause to grow thick. “So I gotta get some air. Coming with?”Messob thought a moment longer and sized up the boy with a sideways glance.“You go all the time?” she asked.“Yep. Can’t beat fresh air.”Normally, she didn’t entertain strangers in the tunnels, but with her namesake come to light, her life had more than changed; it had spun vertigo.“Yeah, I’ll go,” she said while grabbing her pack. Then she added, “We have to go this way so we can get my sister.” She pointed up the tunnel.“Alright?”“Cool.”
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