meridian vision

a short story , from 5.29.20

this is a short story written back in 2020 , inspired by a trip to south africa.

enjoy ,

- mike

meridian vision

The plane smelled of musk and dirt from the mass of people on board. Jack looked out the left side window and saw nothing but ocean blue reflected in the sunlight. This was his first excursion overseas that he chose to take and regretted every second of it so far. His legs cramped against Will, who was the tallest of the 3 of them, yet chose to sit in the middle seat. While Will fidgeted relentlessly for comfort, Steve slept soundly on the aisle seat, legs spread, unable to be interrupted for restroom breaks.

It had taken 20 hours to get to this point of frustration, with the only saving grace of a touchdown time slated for a few more hours from then. Jack thought of what he would do first when he exited the plane. A wide range of things crossed his mind, from kissing the terminal floor, to vomiting his complimentary pretzels, which he had eaten copious amounts of. 

Several more hours later they were in a van driving through the South African countryside. They had not known the land but it felt familiar, with rolling hills and lush trees that were not tame like home but held a wild spirit about them. They were driven by the man who hosted them for their stay, a man who lived and breathed the foreign earth. 

They came to his house in the gated community by the sea. It was laiden with red brick architecture with 2 villas to separate those who stayed with him. The man escorted them to their quarters, which was a one bedroom suite with 4 bunk beds and a window faced toward the back lawn. Jack placed his travelsack on the left bunk while the other 2 shared the right. 

Night approached and they settled into their beds to prepare for the day ahead.

What work will they have us do in this place?

Unknown yet. Most likely labor, work with our hands.

I’m not much for handiwork -

Neither am I. This is what we have chosen, though. There is no going back. 

One after the other they fell into deep sleep. As Jack closed his eyes the world turned from dark to life and he saw the pyramid lake in a canvas of white earth. He was there alone and reached down to grab a stone off the ground and threw it into the water. The stone sunk but did not ripple the waves, and as he stared at where it landed the water vanished as if never there - revealing more white earth, with the stone at the center. 

He walked over to pick it up and jolted awake to the sound of the house alarm. 

They got in the van and drove to the township a few miles down the road. Mud caked their shoes as they walked to the house made of sheet metal on the dirt hill. Inside a woman and her daughters were huddled over a large stone bowl. They prepared a pot of stew and placed it inside plastic containers, then gave each of them one to take around the neighborhood. 

The roads were unpaved, like they were part of the natural landscape. The houses they passed looked the same, built in the hills they resided.

I’ve never seen homes like these.

Me either. How unfortunate. How could one choose to live like this?

Overhead, storm clouds began to form.

We only have one more house to deliver to. It's the one at the end of the road. Let's hurry before we get the brunt of the weather. 

They ran to the dusty shack at the end of the road. A man with a toothless grin welcomed them at the door. He motioned them in and so they did. 

They stood with him in the living room space. The rain pelted the sheet metal roof and leaked in several places on to the floor, which was littered with old newspapers and magazines. 

Im soaked. Do you think he has a towel in his washroom?

Not sure if he even has a washroom -

Sir, mind if I borrow something to dry off with?

The man stared at Steve with his toothless grin, which shifted into a more confused, anxious gaze.

Sir?

As he stood there his eyes slowly rolled in the back of his skull. He fell forward facing Will, who caught his head in his chest. 

Will put his two fingers up to his neck to feel his pulse. 

He’s not breathing - 

They picked up the man and lay him on the tattered sofa chair in the corner of the room. He sat there, eyes wide open, staring into everything and nothing all at once. Will and Steve ran out the front door to alert the neighbors while Jack stood and stared into the man's soulless gaze. 

In the morning a knock came on the door of their dormitory. Will went outside and found a letter rested on the ground, signed to them.

It’s just a piece of black paper with ‘noon’ written in white ink, with a photo of the man, sitting on some sort of white stone by a lake, sometime in his youth. 

What does it mean?

They brought the letter to the keeper of the house, who knew the land and the people in it. He said that it was an invitation to the man’s funeral, and they would be the ones to carry his casket. 

They want us to bury him in the earth, though we never learned his name? We hardly said a word to him before he died. 

Later that afternoon they returned to the township. 

The 3 walked through the sheet metal housed neighborhood and came upon the man with no name’s home. There were hundreds of people out in his front yard, all with drinks and solemn expressions. They all knew the man because he was one of them and he walked the same foreign earth they were raised on. 

As they entered the front gate the people came up to each of them and embraced them, speaking in tongues unknown, though understood as speech with heavy gratitude. A woman grabbed Jack by the hand and led  him through the mass of people to the casket. The casket was made of faded driftwood with painted trims, and on the lid sat one single white stone. Jack picked up the stone and put it in his pant pocket, then with the help of the others hoisted the casket on their shoulders and marched over to the van, to the beat of the musicians drum in the distance, and the low hum of songs sung by those that heard it. 

The next day they woke early and packed their belongings. None said a word as they drove in the van back to the city by the sea. Once they arrived they were greeted by hotel attendants who made their beds, took care of their bags, and prepared drinks and food for them to enjoy. 

Will and Steve indulged while Jack watched from the top bunk bed in the room. The two left shortly afterward to experience whatever nightlife existed in the downtown strip. Jack got up and went the opposite direction toward the coastline. His mind was rampant with thoughts regarding the funeral and had not quieted since he had left the township. 

He arrived at the shore of the ocean, which was beautiful in the reflected moonlight. Down the coast he saw people and lights and heard faint music that they all danced together to. 

He took out the white stone and held it before him. It felt smooth and heavy as he studied it in his left hand. 

Jack threw the stone into the still waves and watched it ripple and fall and become one with the water. He laid his head on the sand and stared up at the moon, which shone bright in the dark night, and felt just as smooth and heavy as all things should. 

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