I relay my story
for the second time in a few minutes. Before Elle can even reply there’s a
cheer from over on our left. The children have arrived.
They file in in a long line like a
school play. There are toddlers to early teens and they all look happy and
nervous all at once. I don’t think I can watch and put my face in my hands.
Elle places a hand on my shoulder. I
meet her eyes and find a look that seems to say everything’s okay.
I can’t believe it. As they take
their places, the chatter in the crowd rises to a crescendo. Teague stands at
the front smiling and waving to his new subjects.
‘Good afternoon everyone,’ he calls.
Everyone grows quiet. For them it’s quiet excitement, for us I can feel the tension
as close as the heat around me. ‘Although it’s hard to know here isn’t it.’ He
laughs, so do they.
‘He should take up politics,’ Elle
observes.
‘These children have prepared some
songs for us today,’ he continues. ‘Songs of love, songs of life,’ he turns to
us. He locks eyes with me. ‘Songs of home.’
No comments:
Post a Comment