Decoding A Dream (Part 1)
He ran down the narrow dusty lanes, the walls abreast in deep blue. He arrived at the broad road and the tall school gate. The streets were empty and quiet. He was five minutes late to school and quizzically met this teacher he wasn’t expecting at his classroom. He consciously crossed an arm across his chest to cover the school badge on his breast pocket.
“Kaola, you’re half an hour late!” she called him by his nickname. Not unusual though it literally meant a bitchy person. She shouldn’t be his class teacher but he caught every detail of this woman with a cute face, thin red lips anyone would go mad to kiss them, loosen hair and strong features on her face. Drop an eye and she weighed full bosoms and broad hips. She wore a blue and white flower-patterned shirt and a deep blue tight-skirt with buttons and one of the buttons did not even match, so it was hurriedly sewn on.
“Why, miss, I ran…I’m only five minutes late!”
“Your paper started at seven-thirty. Didn’t you listen to the radio? It was aired.”
Who’d listen to the radio but she was right. It seemed everyone else was seated doing the test paper. He was too aware of his white uniform shirt as she as his teacher once removed his trousers and detained in an empty classroom to shame him when he was thirteen years old. A fact that inhibited in his subconscious mind that drove him nervous.
She grabbed his pants and tucked in his shirt, “Sit down! I’ll give your paper. You’re lucky Mr Samadi is not here today.” Kaola reached his seat tucking in his shirt hastily.
As time elapsed he glanced at the empty class-room. All the desks and chairs vacated as the pupils left after leaving their assignments done. He was alone and the teacher sat ahead of two rows on the elevated front platform behind her desk, crossing knees so white and exposed. He didn’t notice a single student leave but they were gone.
“It’s time!” the teacher advised.
“Yes, miss, I’m almost done…”
Kaola was tempted to drop his paper and take the opportunity to glance at her legs when she suddenly got up and reached his desk.
She said in her sweet soft voice, “What exactly is this?” picking his test paper, “I have given you extra time. It’s no good…” And he knew she meant more time would not help. It was just a blank sheet of paper. She leaned over dropping her face so close and too close for comfort. “Look at me!”
He nervously turned to look into those dreamy brown eyes and long lashes. Not to drop his gaze as he grew aware of a deep groove in the cleavage and boobs hanging inside a wide open collar. He could even smell them.
“You’re repeating grade ten this year. You can’t do it again. You’ll leave without finishing school.” That was the guiltiest truth a student could bare. No parent would ever forgive.
“Miss, I passed last year…” he wanted to ask this kind teacher to place one of those assignments on his desk so he could copy out.
“What do you intend to do after school?” the teacher grabbed him slightly.
“Maybe I’ll join Vocational Training Centre.”
“I want you to do better.”
“What exactly” she asked, “Civil or Maritime?”
“I don’t know, miss…” he felt his cold earlobe touching skin almost buried in her boobies.
“I can help you decide on a subject to major.”
“Miss, I can finish this in ten minutes…”
“You should do high school.” She straightened taking away his blank sheet.
When Kaola came out of the school gate he was disconcerted. Too many things confused his mind and high school the teacher mentioned, absolutely out of the equation. He wasn’t good in studies and a dull student. He grabbed his shirt and pulled on inside out so that the badge was hidden to the pedestrians.
“Hang on a second,” he thought, “I’m done with school. I did this paper last year and I got pass marks.” He began to count on his fingers and reached five times he sat this paper. “Damn! I must be dreaming…”
And he was dreaming. He grabbed his shirt to make sure the badge was inside. He opened his eyes and he was not where he expected to be. He was lying on the newly laid tiles in the big room he finished with a new toilet that he planned to lease soon. He got lucky this time with these white tiles he bought at a very cheap price and managed to complete renovation before he ran out of money. He left the lights on and the square tiles gleamed in a rhombus pattern at this low angle. The windows left open and dark outside. A cool breeze perhaps caught him in a bad dream.
“Gosh! Miss Sophie was sexy. She never dressed like that. It’s that old school dream yet again. Damn! She never wore a skirt. I’m not convinced it wasn’t a dream. I swear I never saw her in my dream before. Ten years since I left school. Ten years…” He scratched his back. Scratch marks appeared on his shoulders and he knew not how he got them. His job was to paint these walls. He learnt out of habit to wipe his face on a wet towel and get on with the day. It was six-thirty in the morning. He pulled on his T-shirt and went out.
Kaola climbed his mobike standing outside the gate and fired in a dart sending it zigzagging across the road, his sneakers dragging on the ground, to pull up cornering a girl going to school. She was rolling her big eyes on him from a distance but could not turn back as she was halfway up the lane. He grabbed her. The girl frisked helplessly. His bike almost tumbled in a noisy roar as she coiled around. He released her and he was gone.
Nizu continued at her slow pace like nothing happened there, rolling her eyes only to see if someone was watching. She made not a sound. At this early hour no one was on the street. She knew him too well but this was by far the worst assault. She always tried to avoid him.