The Musings of the Angavu
Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 4:00 pm
When Dar got off the Amtrak in 30th street station, he shivvered slightly. The windy tunnels underneath the actual streetside complex of the station howled with snow flurries that the gale winds tossed into the cold concrete cave. Hefting the green military surplus bag onto his shoulder, he started his slow climb up the steps to the monstrous cavern which was the terminal of Philadelphia's 30th street station. A large statue was on Dar's left as he rose out of the sub-level, over fifteen feet of stone depicting an angel holding onto a dead or dying construction worker, to commemorate the dead who worked on the Train lines in the past. The youth stood at the base of the statue, looking up at it with a mixture of feelings. In the back of his mind, the spirits sneered and bickered as they normally did, but Dar was able to quiet them, thinking back to his time in Cimerora. His time with Billi was a double edged sword, keeping him focused and even more confused than ever before at the same time.
Shaking his head, Dar moved towards the regional rail lines, hoping to hop onto the Frankfurt-Market line to head down towards 40th street...back to his folk's house.
A few minutes later, he was knocking onto his door in the rather run down area he lived in west of the "middle" of Philadelphia where the train station resided. The door opened to a cacophany of sounds...football on the TV, sounds of screaming little cousins and loud conversations. His mother stood at the door, short and squat with a metal ladle in her free hand.
"Darweshi! Git on in here child 'fore you catch yourself a death of cold!" His mom called with a smile on her face, ushering her son inside.
"Evenin' Momma" He said quietly, hugging her and hustlin' inside so that they could keep what heat they could in the house.
"Git your bag up to your room and packed away! Then come down and say hi to your family and help me with dinner!" Dar's mom called as she waddled her way back to the kitchen to check on the gravy.
"Yes'm" He said quickly, moving to his room to toss his bag on the bed before coming down to see everyone. The house smelled like turkey, gravy, fresh buttermilk biscuits and a host of vegetable scents in addition to the familiar smell of his family's house.
"Daww!" Cried a young four year old girl, rushing over to Darweshi. The large boy smiled, scooping up his cousin into his arms.
"Man! What's Uncle Ray been feedin' ya Shaneequa?" Dar said with a smile. "You're all big now girl!" His cousin giggled in his arms, wrapping her own tiny arms around his neck.
"Daww! I fouah now!" She said with a beaming smile, proclaiming her understanding of how old she was.
"Yeah! You look like it squirt! But you ain't old enough to stop this!" He said, plopping his cousin down on the couch, tickling her, causing her to erupt in a fit of screaming laughs. Other members of his family, over a dozen in the room with him laughed as well, hugging and kissing him as he made his way through the crowd. Uncle Ray, the younger brother of his dad's two brothers smiled, clapping Dar on the back and moving towards his daughter. Uncle Scottie, the older of the three, brothers on his dad's side and still an active duty Marine, looked at Dar appreciatively.
"Ya look good Dar. Heard you been playin' football." Dar nodded quickly.
"Yessah."
"Been studyin'?"
'Yessah."
"Good. Keep it up."
"Yessah."
Dar quickly moved away from his Uncle Scottie before the Marine could talk to him about his...'condition.' Not many in the family knew or understood the Spirits within him, or even professed to know them aside from his parents. His late grandfather would have been the one to know about 'em, but he passed before Dar was even born.
"Dar! Get your butt in here and help me with the food!" His mother called, causing Dar to leap up and hustle over to work on cooking. It was nice...the noise of the family, the mindless chore of chopping and adding food ingredients helping to quiet down the whispers of the Spirits inside him.
"So Dar, tell me about school. You found yourself a girl yet?" His mother asked, checking the temperature of the turkey baking inside the oven.
"Uh...kinda."
"Whatchya mean 'kinda'?" His mom asked, putting emphasis on the last word.
"I ain't been havin' the best of luck with girls Momma..."
"Well why in the world not? You're a bright and handsome young boy!" Dar cringed a bit. He'd managed to keep a good majority of his troublemaking out of his parent's field of knowledge. If they knew about the fits of rage or the fights....
"I dunno Momma."
"Well, tell me about her!"
"She's from Texas." Suddenly a wooden spoon lashed out and struck Dar's wrist, causing him to snap it back to his core with a hiss of pain.
"Don't you sass me boy! You know that ain't want I wanna know!" Dar frowned, looking down at the gravy he was stirring. Bubbling laughter from Ghadhabu rocked his head.
Go ahead pup. Tell her of the Bwana. Tell her just what kind of foolish creature you are to be attracted to a beast such as that.
Shut the fuck up Ghadhabu... Dar cursed in his head, trying his best to distance himself from the four voices in his mind.
"Well...yeah. She goes to SJS, so she's like me in a way."
"She cute? Ain't a white girl now is it?" His mom said with a laugh, checking on the stuffing. Dar's skin grew dark.
"Well...don't really know...she kinda is."
Dar's mom shook her head and put a hand on her son's shoulder.
"If you like her boy, then she's gotta be somethin." Dar looked at her and nodded without thinking.
"Yeah. She is."
=====================================================================================
After the dinner, which took about two full hours inbetween eating and conversing with family, Dar took to the street. He walked, rather than flew to a local shop in the northern area of West Philly. He wasn't even quite sure why he was heading up that way, but he just felt that he should. The shop was ran by an old black man who spoke with such a thick accent that he could've been straight from Africa.
"Welcome!" The proprietor said without looking up from his newspaper. Dar shrugged and looked about. It seemed to be either a pawn shop or a nicknack shop. Random things scattered the shelves, without any sort of commonality to them other than the fact that they just seemed to be African. Dar frowned...the Spirits must have brought him here, or at least guided him here for one reason or another.
Top shelf. Second from the left. Hodari's gravelly voice came suddenly. Dar looked over instinctively and saw whatever it was that Hodari was looking at. It was a wooden box, engraved with images of elephants and antelope. The wood itself was hard, much harder than Dar would have guessed by looking at it.
Ironwood. Very sturdy. Janja mused as Dar's hands drifted over the box and with a soft tug, pulled the lid off of it. Inside was lined with a soft black felt upon which rested a bone-white handled object with thick, strong bristles on it. The handle was intricately designed with reliefs of trees and women carrying baskets. It is an ivory brush...made in West Africa...Present day Mali by the designs. Used on the Barb breed of horses.
The hell is a horse brush doing here?
This is a store of African goods Angavu. You would do well to come here more often. Perhaps you would learn more about your heritage.
Dar nodded, thinking about that a moment before picking up the brush inside the wooden box and carrying it to the cashier. "How much?"
Looking up the Cashier looked at him and then the box. "Forty." Dar frowned, looking down at the box and then at the cashier.
"Twenty."
"Forty."
"Twenty-five."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five."
"Done."
Dar nodded, handing over what little cash he had and leaving with the box. "Bet Billi would like this..." He said to himself as he left.
====================================================================================================
The Cashier watched as Dar left, frowning slightly.
"He's small...for the Angavu."
Shaking his head, Dar moved towards the regional rail lines, hoping to hop onto the Frankfurt-Market line to head down towards 40th street...back to his folk's house.
A few minutes later, he was knocking onto his door in the rather run down area he lived in west of the "middle" of Philadelphia where the train station resided. The door opened to a cacophany of sounds...football on the TV, sounds of screaming little cousins and loud conversations. His mother stood at the door, short and squat with a metal ladle in her free hand.
"Darweshi! Git on in here child 'fore you catch yourself a death of cold!" His mom called with a smile on her face, ushering her son inside.
"Evenin' Momma" He said quietly, hugging her and hustlin' inside so that they could keep what heat they could in the house.
"Git your bag up to your room and packed away! Then come down and say hi to your family and help me with dinner!" Dar's mom called as she waddled her way back to the kitchen to check on the gravy.
"Yes'm" He said quickly, moving to his room to toss his bag on the bed before coming down to see everyone. The house smelled like turkey, gravy, fresh buttermilk biscuits and a host of vegetable scents in addition to the familiar smell of his family's house.
"Daww!" Cried a young four year old girl, rushing over to Darweshi. The large boy smiled, scooping up his cousin into his arms.
"Man! What's Uncle Ray been feedin' ya Shaneequa?" Dar said with a smile. "You're all big now girl!" His cousin giggled in his arms, wrapping her own tiny arms around his neck.
"Daww! I fouah now!" She said with a beaming smile, proclaiming her understanding of how old she was.
"Yeah! You look like it squirt! But you ain't old enough to stop this!" He said, plopping his cousin down on the couch, tickling her, causing her to erupt in a fit of screaming laughs. Other members of his family, over a dozen in the room with him laughed as well, hugging and kissing him as he made his way through the crowd. Uncle Ray, the younger brother of his dad's two brothers smiled, clapping Dar on the back and moving towards his daughter. Uncle Scottie, the older of the three, brothers on his dad's side and still an active duty Marine, looked at Dar appreciatively.
"Ya look good Dar. Heard you been playin' football." Dar nodded quickly.
"Yessah."
"Been studyin'?"
'Yessah."
"Good. Keep it up."
"Yessah."
Dar quickly moved away from his Uncle Scottie before the Marine could talk to him about his...'condition.' Not many in the family knew or understood the Spirits within him, or even professed to know them aside from his parents. His late grandfather would have been the one to know about 'em, but he passed before Dar was even born.
"Dar! Get your butt in here and help me with the food!" His mother called, causing Dar to leap up and hustle over to work on cooking. It was nice...the noise of the family, the mindless chore of chopping and adding food ingredients helping to quiet down the whispers of the Spirits inside him.
"So Dar, tell me about school. You found yourself a girl yet?" His mother asked, checking the temperature of the turkey baking inside the oven.
"Uh...kinda."
"Whatchya mean 'kinda'?" His mom asked, putting emphasis on the last word.
"I ain't been havin' the best of luck with girls Momma..."
"Well why in the world not? You're a bright and handsome young boy!" Dar cringed a bit. He'd managed to keep a good majority of his troublemaking out of his parent's field of knowledge. If they knew about the fits of rage or the fights....
"I dunno Momma."
"Well, tell me about her!"
"She's from Texas." Suddenly a wooden spoon lashed out and struck Dar's wrist, causing him to snap it back to his core with a hiss of pain.
"Don't you sass me boy! You know that ain't want I wanna know!" Dar frowned, looking down at the gravy he was stirring. Bubbling laughter from Ghadhabu rocked his head.
Go ahead pup. Tell her of the Bwana. Tell her just what kind of foolish creature you are to be attracted to a beast such as that.
Shut the fuck up Ghadhabu... Dar cursed in his head, trying his best to distance himself from the four voices in his mind.
"Well...yeah. She goes to SJS, so she's like me in a way."
"She cute? Ain't a white girl now is it?" His mom said with a laugh, checking on the stuffing. Dar's skin grew dark.
"Well...don't really know...she kinda is."
Dar's mom shook her head and put a hand on her son's shoulder.
"If you like her boy, then she's gotta be somethin." Dar looked at her and nodded without thinking.
"Yeah. She is."
=====================================================================================
After the dinner, which took about two full hours inbetween eating and conversing with family, Dar took to the street. He walked, rather than flew to a local shop in the northern area of West Philly. He wasn't even quite sure why he was heading up that way, but he just felt that he should. The shop was ran by an old black man who spoke with such a thick accent that he could've been straight from Africa.
"Welcome!" The proprietor said without looking up from his newspaper. Dar shrugged and looked about. It seemed to be either a pawn shop or a nicknack shop. Random things scattered the shelves, without any sort of commonality to them other than the fact that they just seemed to be African. Dar frowned...the Spirits must have brought him here, or at least guided him here for one reason or another.
Top shelf. Second from the left. Hodari's gravelly voice came suddenly. Dar looked over instinctively and saw whatever it was that Hodari was looking at. It was a wooden box, engraved with images of elephants and antelope. The wood itself was hard, much harder than Dar would have guessed by looking at it.
Ironwood. Very sturdy. Janja mused as Dar's hands drifted over the box and with a soft tug, pulled the lid off of it. Inside was lined with a soft black felt upon which rested a bone-white handled object with thick, strong bristles on it. The handle was intricately designed with reliefs of trees and women carrying baskets. It is an ivory brush...made in West Africa...Present day Mali by the designs. Used on the Barb breed of horses.
The hell is a horse brush doing here?
This is a store of African goods Angavu. You would do well to come here more often. Perhaps you would learn more about your heritage.
Dar nodded, thinking about that a moment before picking up the brush inside the wooden box and carrying it to the cashier. "How much?"
Looking up the Cashier looked at him and then the box. "Forty." Dar frowned, looking down at the box and then at the cashier.
"Twenty."
"Forty."
"Twenty-five."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five."
"Done."
Dar nodded, handing over what little cash he had and leaving with the box. "Bet Billi would like this..." He said to himself as he left.
====================================================================================================
The Cashier watched as Dar left, frowning slightly.
"He's small...for the Angavu."