Callum and I took a coach to the park, which he paid for. The celebrations were to begin at the wide clearing which marked the entrance to the park.

A platform had been placed in the centre to act as the stage for the designated choir. Right after the clearing was the Town Hall, which was designated for the dances that would happen later. The Hall was used for functions like large meetings, weddings and the like; and for Establishment Day, it was the chosen dance hall.

I noticed that the choir had already arrived. I recognised the faces of the members of the church choir amongst the merry chattering crowds that were scattered all across the clearing. Thank goodness they didn’t wear uniform, otherwise my plan to sneak in would be a bust.

Those who did wear uniform were the authorities. The uniform consisted of a burgundy jacket with white buttons in a diagonal fashion, burgundy trousers with a white stripe at the sides of each trouser leg, black boots plus a burgundy and black police cap with the country’s coat of arms at the front. Some of the officers carried musket guns, and all of them wore white gloves.

The celebrations always began with a performance from the choir. They sang the country’s anthem, the tribute song to Richard Barrington, a song of prayer and blessing, a song of praise, and two more common folk songs.

The Inspectors would then lead the officers in a choreographed march and once their muskets were fired, the people would disperse further into the park for the dramatics, dancing, food and so on, until midnight.

Callum and I talked while we waited for the choir to take the stage. I let him know that Ed would be with Inspector Raphael for the day.

“As a date?” He was amused.

I laughed. “Since the authorities are on security, she purported to join them and stick to Inspector Raphael. Don’t be surprised if you see her in uniform.”

“Hello, hello? Speaking about me behind my back?” Ed’s husky voice chanted from behind me.

I spun. “Oh please, like you heard anything.”

“I don’t need to use my ears to know you’ve been talking about me because you’re always talking about me, Nkwanzi.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Already missing my company for the day?” She teased, lightly bumping me.

Ed and I had always spent this event together since we were thirteen. Previously, I would go with Mother and Jerry but like the other girls, I started to seek out dates once I turned thirteen. Unsurprisingly, nobody asked me and nobody asked Ed, so we went together and did everything together.

We used to have such a great deal of fun dancing together even in the waltz. A lot of people frowned upon us, but we didn’t care.

“A good evening, Mr. Callum,” Ed snapped me out of my reverie as she tipped her burgundy fedora to my date.

Besides the hat, she had worn a white button-up shirt and burgundy trousers with braces, plus black boots. A burgundy bow tie was round the shirt collar.

She’d basically worn the police colours.

“A good evening, Miss Ed,” Callum tipped his hat to her as well.

I parted my mouth to comment about her attire, but gasped when I saw the choir members filing onto the stage.

“I have to go!” That’s all the warning I gave before sprinting off.

The crowds were still inattentive to what was happening so it was easy for me to slip through unnoticed by Gareth, the choir master. He stood facing the stage with his arms down in front of him; one hand clasping the wrist of the other. In his hand was his conductor’s baton.

He was a very tall and thin man, with high prominent cheekbones and a long face, courtesy of his chin. His droopy obsidian eyes had a natural dark shade underneath them in contrast to his pale white skin but that day, I couldn’t see them. He must’ve used some powder, because he looked paler than usual.

He was dressed in a black three piece suit, with a white shirt and a tailcoat whose tails hung all the way to the back of his knees. His wavy salt and pepper hair was gelled to smoothness, leaving only a few waves at the back of his head and his thin lips were in a straight line.

His swollen and elevated chest emanated overconfidence, his tipped up chin spelt pride and the half-lidded gaze of his eyes shot out scorn. And if he caught me in his choir with those scornful eyes, his mouth would spew despair.

But I wanted to sing, and although my heart raced in trepidation of being caught by him, my mind had been made up that even he would not stop me. So I sneaked up behind the platform, lifted my skirt and hoisted myself up, making sure to keep my head low.

One of the women saw me and her eyes widened. “Rose!”

“Sh!” I put my finger to my lips to silence her.

She cast a wary glance to the front and shook her head. “You’ve got guts, girl.”

I grinned in response. Since she was taller than me, I managed to convince her to swap places and stand in front of me so Gareth couldn’t see me. Other members soon noticed me but despite their initial surprise, they smiled and waved. Gareth was the only inhumane being yet he composed and sang songs to the Lord with such a wide smile every Sunday.

And in him lay the meaning of two-faced. He surpassed my understanding, really.

A bell jingled, meaning it was time for the celebrations to start. The jingle went on amidst the murmuring until the murmuring died down first, followed by the jingle. It was deathly silent and from what I could tell by my view, everyone was looking at the choir.

Then, a deep melodious baritone sang out the first line of the country’s anthem in a booming beautiful voice that no doubt belonged to Gareth.

The rest of the choir then joined in, first without the bass. I had sang along many times in the crowd to know the patterns of the a cappella, so I had no problem joining in and singing.

It was refreshing and heart warming to finally sing with everyone on stage. I had always wanted to join the choir but every single time I auditioned, Gareth told me I was a terrible singer and I was wasting my time.

I believed him at first and thought to myself that maybe my parents only told me how a natural I was because they wanted to make me feel good about myself. But then I asked him to teach me how to sing, and he couldn’t even do that yet he had other students under his wing.

It soon dawned on me that the real reason he treated me differently, and badly, was because of my skin colour. It didn’t stop me from attending choir rehearsals where Gareth was absent and from making friends, though.

I had thought about speaking to the church about my predicament, but Gareth wasn’t a person I was ready to fight against just yet. Ever since he bust up my fingers with his baton all those years ago, he kind of frightened me.

Thankfully, I didn’t think Gareth spotted me during all the songs we sang. We had to move and dance a bit during the praise song and the common folk songs, so I kept ducking and swerving my head unceremoniously when I thought he’d catch a glimpse of me.

It was generally a wonderful and fun experience, but the highlight of the performance would’ve been when a person released a fart during the prayer and blessing song.

I mean-

What?

How?

Why!

I had my eyes closed and a hand over my heart as I felt the song we sang deep in my soul.

“And we pray, here as we stand...”

The ‘stand’ was a vowel elongation and it was at that point that a mixture of overstayed eggs and a broken sewage pipe hit my nostrils like a slap. I practically choked while singing ‘stand’ and clamped my mouth shut as though the smell would somehow taste on my tongue.

It sure felt that way.

My eyes flipped open and my moment with the Lord was completely ruined. I folded my face at the awful smell and looked to my side, where Miss Peyton too, had her face folded in disgust. Her eyes were squeezed shut; less because she was feeling the prayer and more because she couldn’t face the horror. And yet somehow, she kept singing.

How could someone managen to sing in this stuffy stench?

Next to her, a more reasonable Miss Grange had her hand over her nose and mouth; her mouth certainly screwed shut like mine. Somehow, the smell only seemed to grow fouler as though another bout of eggs and sewage had been unleashed, and I held my breath.

To my right, Miss Ruth’s soprano outshined every other woman’s, her mouth wide and stretching to ensure her voice reached as far as it could. Her face held no worry or disgust, her eyes open and shining.

But as she sang ‘Hosanna,’ and started to wave, I noticed her wave was way off. She waved her hand far too close to her nostrils, and the strong swift mechanical movement acted like a fan to ventilate.

I instantly borrowed her technique and began to wave ‘Hosanna’ but I dared not open my mouth to sing.

Dear Lord, please do forgive me for this moment. And bring salvation unto the wind breaker.

**

Ed and Callum died of laughter once I recounted to them the whole fiasco that transpired on stage. I told them after the officers had finished their march.

“Oh my God, no wonder the choir sounded a bit off for a while!” Ed cackled. “I thought a squirrel had run across their feet, but turns out there was a skunk amongst them!”

“Oh it was awful,” I whined. “More so during the prayer. Why would somebody do that?”

“The person must feel quite embarrassed,” Callum mused.

I couldn’t believe him. “You are sympathising with the perpetrator instead of us, the victims?”

“Shit happens,” Ed said. “And it sounds like it literally did.” She burst out laughing again.

I didn’t see what was comical about that joke.

“Even so, the person could have at least excused himself or herself instead of spraying the whole area and making us bear the brunt!” I argued. “It’s basic manners. A shameless fellow is what that croon is.”

Callum nodded, his shoulders lifting apologetically. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

“The person who should be apologising is the miscreant who tore my nostrils a part,” I countered and Ed howled with laughter.

I lifted my skirt and kicked her in the shin. “Stop laughing! I wish you’d been there to experience the horror!”

“Oh-ho-ho-hokay.” Ed grinned, holding up a hand. “I’m done. I’m done.”

Callum, smiling, checked his wrist watch. “It’s almost 7:00pm.”

I gasped in remembrance. “That’s right, the show!”

There was a one hour show whose times were between seven and eight, eight and nine, nine-thirty and ten-thirty. Callum had bought us tickets for the seven o’clock show, about which he’d informed me on the ride to the park.

“Oh you two are watching the first show? Ed asked, glancing between me and Callum.

I nodded. “You?”

Ed’s face scrunched up in a pensive manner. “I’ll see if I can convince Inspector Raphael.”

“Well, it’ll start in fifteen,” Callum pointed out.

“Then I better run,” Ed said and hurried off.

I glanced around to see if I could spot my mother but unfortunately, my eyes found the last person I wanted to see and by the smirk on her face, she’d noticed me too.

Poppy walked towards me as if she had a vile agenda –like she always did. I admit she looked gorgeous in her short sleeved pale pink gown with red floral print. Her hair was curled at the ends and as she approached closer, her face looked more striking with make-up, her green eyes made more vibrant by the kohl.

“Well, if it isn’t little Rosa,” Poppy chimed as she stopped in front of me.

“I’m taller than you,” I deadpanned. She was the same height as Ed.

She waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. Where’s your large companion?” She asked, her eyes darting around.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I replied with a straight face.

I watched as Levi, the Mayor’s son, came to stand beside her. He donned a button-up white shirt with a grey bow tie and grey slacks. His dirty blond hair was messy and tousled, his amber eyes bright and lively like the small smile on his face. I could see why girls swooned over him.

Besides his status, he was also quite handsome. And for the cherry on top, he was great with the guitar and a talented singer. I’d heard and watched him perform before, and I won’t deny I did swoon like the rest of the girls that’d surrounded him.

His smile stretched when he saw me. “Hey, Rose.”

I didn’t remember ever telling him my name or speaking to him before for that matter, so I was thrown.

I was about to reply when Poppy spoke.
“You already know Levi.” She circled her hand around his arm and her smugness heightened. “My date. Where’s yours, Rosa?”

Oh shoot. I’d completely forgotten about Callum yet he stood right next to me.

“Are you blind?” I replied and turned my head to Callum, who was looking at the newcomers with confusion mixed with interest. “He’s right here. Callum, this is Poppy and Levi.”

Callum smiled and extended his hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

Levi shook it welcomingly but Poppy’s smug look was long gone and replaced with one of suspicion and disdain.

“Are you from Richard Town?” she inquired as she shook his hand.

“Ye--”

“He’s Mr. Vaughn’s son, actually,” I replied on his behalf while giving Poppy a tight-lipped smile.

She was clearly surprised. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him, like his entire existence vexed her. I smirked seeing her so bothered and defeated.

“Why don’t I know you?” she asked him.

“Uh-”

“Not everyone has to know you, Poppy,” I pointed out in an abrasive reply.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I asked, dumb one.”

My face flamed as irritation sprouted within me.

“We’re going for the 7:00pm show,” Levi’s velvety voice spoke up, effectively stopping a war before it broke out.

“So are we,” Callum chirped, brightening up.

Suddenly, a big smile sported Poppy’s face and I was immediately suspicious. “How great! Then we can all go together, right? And get to know each other.”

She looked pointedly at me, and my deal with her to ‘get together’ on Establishment Day chimed at the back of my head like warning bells.

I wore my best fake smile. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Poppy flipped her hair and linked arms with Levi, leading him to walk. Callum and I followed behind them.

“Pardon me, but I just have to ask,” Callum whispered to me. “Are you and Poppy close?”

“If you can call nearly biting our heads off every time we meet then yes, we’re very close,” I answered.

A/N:

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