Uhambo

Voya Entry for Greenlight

Uhambo

By Yahriel

The greenlight switched to red as Melinda gathered herself. It was lunch time in the beautiful downtown city of Atlanta. Melinda’s thick tresses were disheveled, but not enough for anyone to think of her to be nothing more than a pretty lady who had fallen in the crosswalk. Having received help from strangers to get on her feet, Melinda now sat on the sidewalk comfortably fading from reality. Her opaque tights showed through to her nutmeg-shaded skin as she sat in the direction of the crosswalk between Starbucks and Georgia State University. Students crossed, oblivious to their surroundings. With heads and eyes dedicated to their cell phones, juicy conversations, or quick bites of food to tie them over till the next meal. Melinda managed to attract first one, then four and now 5 pedestrians who were whispering among themselves about what to do.

There she sat, resting on her curvy hips with her corduroy skirt, yielding the unsightly view of a fresh hole in the right knee of her burgundy tights. In childlike manner, Melinda traced the hole at her knee with her forefinger. She murmured to herself about her thumbnail being chipped and suddenly burst into laughter. Melinda threw her head back and was speaking as if she were among her best friends at a sidewalk café. Commenting and addressing comrades on her left and right, Melinda enjoyingly participated in a talkfest that only she could understand. Save the outbursts of laughter, no one around could decipher this conversation and no one could see any cohorts who Melinda was so cheerfully engaged with.

Sucking her teeth and pursing her lips, a security guard with Cookie-Monster-blue hair dismissed Melinda,

“Okay, huh ellahvatah ain’t going all the way up. I can’t waste my lurnch break on 'dis!”

Cookie-Monster-Blue strode away with her sidekick, leaving a gathering of 3 pedestrians to tend to Melinda. Taking triple precaution, Cookie-Monster-Blue checked for traffic by swinging her head vigorously from left to right. This swift over exaggeration of neck turns caused her bangs which lay over her right eye to flop noticeably. She made deliberately long slow strides as she looked back over her shoulder at Melinda and judged the situation condescendingly with a scornful smirk.

The 3 remaining bystanders ignored the security guard and proceeded to ask questions.

“What’s your name, Honey?” The blonde hairdresser inquired as Melinda gave him a bright smile and a nod of acknowledgement while continuing to carry-on her public chat. Melinda’s patronizing nod towards Blonde Perfection was as if he were the interrupting waiter at her luncheon with friends.

“You on your lunchbreak, Hon? I see you out here all the tiiime…I always notice that thick hair of yours…bouncing and behaving. I’ve been wanting to get my hands into your hair for the longest. Are you feelin’ okaaay? What time’s your lunch break ohh-ver?”

Blonde’s southern twang was so distinct that the concerned New Yorker counted him for dumb and proceeded to address Melinda with the confidence of a police officer.

“Ma’am? Isthereanythingwecandoforyou? Cauwl uh cab, maybe?” His eyebrows lifted off and danced with his sing-song inquiry as his eyes discovered the wonders of Melinda’s voluptuous cleavage.

Geez crazy lady. Too bad we’re not in a back alley in the daaauk…why I’d...

Noticing the obvious drool fest that The Big Apple was giving Malinda’s breasts, Sharaye aggressively stepped in.

“I know her. We work for the same company.”

With a swift whisk of the hand, Sharaye covered Melinda’s cleavage with her orange scarf, quickly tying a stabilizing knot around her neck that camouflaged her midriff. and commenced with pulling Malinda to her feet.

“Can you grab her other arm please?” She threw a request to the New Yorker that bore the cadence of scolding him for being so fixated on the woman’s breasts.

No sooner than she was on her feet, Melinda embraced Sheraye and wept like a baby as the traffic light on Peachtree turned green.

“Now, now baby.” Big Mama stroked Malinda’s hair as she laid her bodice against the headboard and forced her to drink from the glass of water.

“I guess you still having them dreams, huh? Drank ya watuh and try to lay back down.”

Malinda didn’t say a word as she observed this beautiful, dark, round black Indian looking woman. Gray hair parted down the middle and two long braids on the side that hung down to her elbows. She marveled at the traditional headband that she wore as this nurturing geriatric slipped it off her head and moved to turn the lamp off.

“It’s probably this here old green light that you put in this lamp. That’s ‘bout the reason you keep having them nightmares. I’mma remember to get a plain white light next time I go to town.”

Before Malinda could process what was being said to her and how she got there, Big Mama clicked the lamp switch and fell to the floor with a heart attack. The lamp and it’s green light bulb fell with her and shattered as it hit the floor. Malinda jumped down to hold her and the church bell rang 3 times.

It was 3 p.m. and the children came charging out of the school like wild buffalo. Our Lady of the Lord Jesus Christ Private school was everything but orderly for children who were being taught catechisms in their curriculum.

You’d think they would be more cautious of the children’s safety after…

In the midst of her own thinking, Melinda realized that she was parked in line to pick up Jonathan on the one-year anniversary of his death. It was as if she were waking up from a dream. A year later, she had gotten dressed and drove over to his school and waited in line with the other parents to pick up her child. Her disdain for the rambunctious way that the children exited the building caused her to remember how Jonathan ran after his softball that had rolled into the street and was hit by a car who zoomed through the greenlight like he was in The Demolition Derby. Her only child had gone about 10 feet into the air and came crashing down, dead on impact. How could she forget? How could she forget that there was no child to pick up from school? She cupped her screams as wet tears stained her face, resting her head onto the steering wheel, she accidently lay on the car horn and looked up to realize that she was gliding through the sky.

She had to have been moving at about 70 miles per hour. Then a larger eagle came from behind her and flew even faster over her.

Melinda enjoyed the sights as she soared over mountains and rested atop pine trees. Following the larger eagle, she flew over the ocean and landed on a wooden post that protruded from the water. Gazing down into the water she noticed her reflection. She was a bird. And not just a bird, but a majestic eagle. Free to fly and roam the earth.

“Melinda?…Melinda? As I count back from seven, you are returning to yourself. Seven…six...five. And on three, you will open your eyes."

Known for her work with hypnosis and past life regression, Karen Jules, the clairvoyant intuitive counselor sat on the side of the sofa swinging her emerald pendulum for Melinda’s opening eyes to follow. The clarity of the emerald glass stone was so clear that it reflected a green light onto the wall.

“Okay, I don’t remember anything. Did I really go under? Did the hypnosis work?”