On Ice

Unpeg, clothing and basket. Unpeg, clothing and basket. Unpeg the clothing, fold it and place it into the basket. One after one, I removed clothing from the line. The freshly parched material of the clothing welcomed my inquiring hand. The short green grass of my lawn cushioned the toughened soles of my feet. Peach-brown walls surround the rectangular lawn. A sun-bleached white tool shed with a silver tin roof stood off to the far-right corner of the lawn. The sky was a tapestry of fluffy white and pale blue and its centrepiece was a silver sun. The sunlight burned into the grass, but I confined myself to the cool of the shade laid down by the tall trees that surrounded the lawn. So cool was the shade…so cool. Unpeg, clothing and basket. Unpeg, clothing and basket. My breath halted. The sound of a passing car tumbled into my ears.  As the car passed, its noise trickled away and a deep silence descended. No cars made noise on the roads, the birds did not chirp, and no shouts of children were heard. There was only a whispering rustle of the trees. The moment felt like a revelation. It felt like finally remembering the word you were struggling to remember. It felt like a childhood memory you had forgotten until the present moment.  

I lifted my head and stared into the shining sun. To my surprise, my eyes did not burn nor did they go blind. Curious, I peered deeper into the shining whiteness. The blazing white light slowed to a steady glow and then stilled into the shine of snow mounds outside a cracked window. There were no thinning black trees, bushes or snow-capped mountains. There were only heaps of lifeless snow foregrounding a frozen lake which farther than my eyes could see.  

I had hallucinated it all: the lawn, the sun, the washing line, the tool shed...My hands had not met any dry material rather they shook with a gnawing cold that pierced my ragged gloves. I looked down to my left and observed the faint whirring and fading orange colour of a machine.  

“Heating unit, “ the words tumbled out my mouth.  

This must have been the car sound, I thought. I lowered my gaze to my feet - a furry hood attached to a heavy snow jacket was pinned beneath the soles of my feet.  

I picked up the snow jacket, red block letters glistened on the left patch: ICC. 

“The Interspace Colonizing Corps,” I muttered. “The Interspace Colonizing Corps…”  

I turned the heft of the jacket to read the back of it. Black block letters read J. Akema.  

“Akema…Akema,” I whispered. “‘J’?” 

Cold wind slapped the side of my body. A door to the far left was ajar. I rushed to secure myself in the padding of the snow jacket. Then darted my eyes across the room in search of shoes. Black boots were seated in the corner - to the far right of the window. I attempted to run to them, but my legs felt like ice blocks. I shuffled my way across the polished wooden floor to the boots. Socks were concealed within the shoes.  I clothed my feet in the socks and hid my feet in the inviting blackness of the inner boots.  

I pressed my back to the corner and surveyed the room in which I stood. A blackened fireplace was implanted in the centre of the far wall. It towered over three black armchairs like a mother lion presides over her cubs.  The armchairs surround a thick, round wooden table which had white playing cards splayed over its surface. Log stacked upon log formed the walls of the room.   A solitary light bulb hung haplessly from the flat roof. I visually traced the cord of the light bulb along its course to a light switch a few steps to my left. I shuffled along to the switch. I flicked it up, no response. I flicked it down, no response. I repeated the process several times then gave up and the faced the vacant room once more. The room was coated in a sheet of cold, white light emanating from the solitary window I had stood by earlier. This sole light source left nooks of the room untouched by sunlight and left the room to be an interplay of monochrome.  

A gust of wind burst the door asunder. I snapped my head towards the battered door. My heart rammed against my chest. My breath was ragged. The door creaked like a trembling violin string as it dragged towards the doorway.  

I walked tentatively across the room towards the door. I grabbed hold of the cold silver door handle and began to close the door until I looked out the door. I gazed upon a statuesque, black woman wearing nothing but a loincloth. Her gaze collided with my own and remained there. Terror engulfed my heart and confusion and…familiarity. I blinked my drying eyes and she was gone.  

“Wha…”, I began. “Hello!"

I stumbled out into the snow. The snow rose up to my knees. I looked to my left then to my right – nothing but rolling white.  

“Hello!"

I struggled through the ice and looked to my right. Thereupon the frozen lake was a figure. I rushed towards the lake in a fit of high knees.  

I shouted, “Hey, do you need help?” 

Suddenly my vision was black and my face slapped in sub-zero snow. I had tripped and fallen.  

“Uhhh,” I groaned. I rolled myself onto my back and stared into the sky. Three spheres were fixed into the sky in a diagonal celestial line. They looked like moons, yet there were three of them. They seemed to shimmer as if they were wrapped in cling wrap. I focused my eyes and saw that the faint shimmering was visible throughout the whole sky.  

“Dome,” I spoke without thinking. “Yes, dome…” 

I lifted myself out of the snow and struggled to my feet and looked towards the frozen lake once more.  

As I approached, the lake face became more visible: a slab of thick ice had frozen over the lake. It was scarred along its surface in massive, jagged rips. Beneath the ice was a depth of water so deep that it faded from deep blue to black. The lake filled up my eyesight as far and as wide as I could see. And there in the centre of the lake, motionless, was the woman. I edged closer stopped by the edge of the frozen lake and shouted: 

“Hey, do you…” 

Two men appeared beside her as if from the air. Then another two persons appeared at the rear of the woman – a man and another woman. They all wore only loincloths. Their exposed brown skin defying the cold temperature.  

She stood so far away, yet I could still see her chestnut irises and the holes of her pupils. Her body was far, but her gaze was proximal and searching. She breathed out into the air and a mist twisted horizontally and vertically and then expanded. Her breath grew into a fog. It advanced over the surface of the lake – thickening the surrounding air. As the fog enfolded my face, the woman's eyes blazed into my sight – she was familiar.  

The white mist began to disappear from my eyes. My breath stopped. I saw legions of solemn-faced, loinclothed people crowded before hundreds of ancient wooden ships shipwrecked within the ice. Many of their brown bodies were adorned in white symbols and intricate lines. I searched for the woman. I swivelled my head in search of her but I could not find her. I felt the hairs of the back of my neck stiffen. I turned around. There she stood – poised and commanding. I stood before her – our eyes level and transfixed. 

She uttered: “do you know what it was like to walk on water? It takes time, it takes centuries. It takes thousands jumping off of generations of ships hoping to land on a solid surface and walk back home. It takes faith. A belief that you are human yet also an heir to the divine. Failure to walk upon the water means the spirit will be trapped in the still rises and falls of the tide. Go on Juma, step upon the ice and you shall see what it is like to walk on water.” 

My body turned without my volition. I faced the black crowds once more. I lifted my foot and attempted to stop it from touching the lake face. 

A voice cried out to me: "Hey Juma, there’s a crack in the damn home unit window what are you doing out there?”