Winning Stories 2009
Story by Opeyemi Adeyemo
What’s in here then?’ Corey comes up beside me and squints into the cage.
‘A python.’
He watches it with me for about five seconds. It looks sad in there, all curled up on itself.
‘It doesn’t do much, does it?’ He taps on the glass. The python doesn’t stir. He taps again.
‘It says don’t bang on the glass,’ I tell him, pointing to the sign.
He narrows his eyes at me, says, ‘You always follow the rules, don’t you?’
It makes me smile, because he’s so wrong. I'm about to turn the whole world upside down. Upside down and inside out.
“What’s so funny Aunty?” he asked quizzically as he looked at me
“You’ll see, you’ll see in due time” I smiled as we walked along.
“Yeah yeah, but can we hurry up? I’m beginning to get hungry” Corey moaned as he grabbed my hand.
“Fine, let’s go to a restaurant on the way home” I replied.
He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me, pleading, begging. He shook
His head vehemently.
“No Aunty, please no. Let’s just go to a cafe, buy something and be on our way” he begged
“Fine, if that’s what you want” I replied.
It was heart wrenching to see my nephew like this, it was like a knife being twisted into my heart. Over and over again.
I could feel his pain.
I could sense his pain.
I could hear his pain.
He was only nine and yet he knew that life had changed. For the worst. He had been robbed of his childhood and in its place was an unseen war. A war of colours. Black. White. The mark of the war was everywhere, from the segregated benches to the different toilets. It was everywhere and it made sure that its presence was felt, known. And, it was.
Twenty Minutes Later
We managed to escape from the cafe in one piece and unscathed. It was almost normal. Almost. In comparison to previous times, all we received was a cursory glance and a few muted whisperings.
Corey left in high spirits and he seemed especially pleased with his double chocolate ice cream cone. For some reason I seemed mesmerized, transfixed on the ice cream. It brought back bitter sweet memories of an innocent childhood where colour was no barrier to happiness and people were ‘colour blind’...
I was soon brought back to nail crushing reality when I was asked for my ticket by the conductor. Despite the fact that I had paid for my ticket legitimately like any other passenger he still gave me that practiced look of hatred that emanated from every single pore of his body.
As per usual we had to stand because there were no seats but peradventure there were seats we would still stand and let a white person occupy it. Even if we were seated first, it went without saying that we had to get up. Today was no different.
Corey was starting to become restless. He wasn’t to blame. Ask any nine year old to sit for over thirty minutes and that’s what you get. I was praying fervently that a seat would soon become vacant so that we could sit.
Not long after God answered my prayers and a seat by a window was free. Without further Ado I went to sit down and placed Corey on my lap. We had a few minutes of uninterrupted bliss-that is until a white person came on.
She stood in front of us authoritatively and looked us straight in the eye. With all the confidence I could muster, I ignored her. She stayed in this stance for a few minutes but when it became evident that we were not moving she stood up and began to make a big fuss.
I was unperturbed by all the noise but Corey, bless him became nervous and stood up. It was all too much for his little heart to take but me, I was ready. This was war and I was armed to the nines. I simply started reading my Bible whilst Corey watched me, his eyes filled with tears and adoration.
I felt unfettered, free like I had been released from the shackles of this shambolic excuse of a society called America. I continued to read and became deeply engrossed. All this whilst a crowd had gathered and the bus had stopped.
“ She just sat there totally oblivious to the fact that I was here!”
“I saw it all conductor, very ill-mannered that lady is sitting there”
“If you ask me, she ought to be ashamed of herself, the boy knows better than her!”
“I say well done to her! It’s time someone stood up for us blacks!”
People were just voicing their opinions left, right, centre. It all soon became chaotic, full of tumult and you know what? I enjoyed it. This is what I had set out to do for weeks and finally I did it today.
All hell broke loose and the police was called. Amidst all this Corey was beside me, keeping quiet.
“What’s wrong Corey?”
“You’re so brave Aunty, I mean you stood up by sitting down. I could never do that” he gabbled on quickly.
He looked at me with a new found hope, a look of admiration, idolisation.
“Corey, hopefully you won’t need to. Just pray to God up there that this war will end and that everything will go back to normal” I said.
“I’ll pray every single day before I go to bed Aunty” he said excitedly
I couldn’t help but laugh. He was so naive but I’d rather that than he be bitter about everything.
The police had arrived and I was handcuffed whilst Corey was detained by an officer until his parents came.
I was just about to be pushed into the police car when Corey said something.
“Is that what you meant before when you said you’re about to turn the world upside down and inside out?”
“Yes”
Time was against us and they started shutting the door but we still managed to say a few more thing.
“Well Aunty, you did a damn good job of it!” he said proudly and with that the door was slammed shut, prohibiting any further communication.
After that I smiled to myself because I did turn the world upside down and inside out. Inside out and shaken all over for good measure!
Opeyemi Adeyemo aged 14
Archive - Henrietta Branford Writing Competition 2009 - 10th anniversary year
The Branford Boase Award for authors and their editors
The Henrietta Branford Writing Competition for young writers
