The following is a six-page short story that I developed over the
last few days. I will break it into parts.





        The village stream was the meeting place for the youths whenever the
rising temperature was at a boiling point. It was in the thick of the dry
season. The dry grass shriveled under the intense rays of the burning sun. The
trees, their leaves wrinkled and yellow, lost most of their elegant foliage to
the scorching sun.

         From a distance noises could be heard. The shouting and yelling, the
exuberant voices of the youths in the village stream that reverberated into
the depths of the naked forest within. The youths came to the stream when the
water receded to look for oyster and to hunt for crabs. They came to the stream
when the tide was full. They wrestled each other in the water, and fondled
and kissed each other. The stream was the place where young lovers meet. It was
the place where the boys and girls eyed each other and developed an attraction
for one another. It was at the stream where Sengan had his first kiss with
her. It was there that Musukuta discreetly passed that neatly folded piece of
paper to him. The hastily scribbled love note made Sengan to wear a big smile, a
smile as big as a papaya leaf. The note was short and to the point:

              Dear Sengan,
                               I have to admit that I can no longer hold it
to myself. I just want to let you know that I love you. You can meet me outside
my compound tonight.

             Yours,
                    Musu.





                                                              *


       Sengan was waiting outside Musukuta's compound shortly after he had
taken his dinner. Musukuta spiritedly came outside to meet him. They walked
slowly together to the village stream, and sat at the edge of the cliff
overlooking the mangroove swamps. From their vantage point, the main highway dangerously
meandered around a dense cluster of palm trees, and like a serpent lazily
stretched into the dark contours of the night. The highway was dead except for
one or two cars that sped by at long intervals.

           Sengan drew Musukuta closer to him. They put their hands around
each other. They looked at each other deeply in the eyes. Then they kissed. They
sat there for a long time fumbling and groping each other. Sengan began to
feel the bulge in his trousers, stood up and tried to lead Musukuta into the
bushes and tall shrubs nearby. Musukuta gently pushed him away.

          "We have to go back now," she said.

          "I hope you are not mad with me, Musu?" he asked

          "You know our culture. I should not be here with you at this time
of the night. You know I am still a maiden," she said.

           "I understand and respect that; that is why I am not forcing you,"
he said.

            "If you want to be intimate with me you should marry me, " she
said.

             "I know. I should start to work on that. I know your mother will
accommodate me. I am not sure about your father," he said.

              "You know my mother likes you," she said. "I think all the
mothers in the village like you. You can marry anyone of their daughters if you
like."

                "I think that is true," he said. "Your mother once told me
that herself: if there is any girl that you want to marry in the village just
tell me. We will take care of the rest. I just looked at her and laughed not
knowing what to say."

                 "You should be proud of yourself," she said. "You have
something that most people like in you. You carry yourself well."

                  "Dont make be blush now, " he said. "I know you are saying
this because you like me."



                                                              *

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