The Chronicles V – Tough Love, for the record…

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Back at my room one of the neighbors had a truck which he had to fix then take across to South Africa. He said he would hide me and take me across, no problem. Just he had to get the 18 wheeler fixed. I waited and waited, a week went by, and the truck started drove a few meters and really broke! That plan not working.  

The main reason I wanted to go in the truck was because I knew, I knew the late visa was going to be a huge problem. If I could hide in the truck maybe I could avoid that. I also knew I could not just hang around in Mozambique forever. I decided to give most of my kit away, extra boots, clothes everything. One kit bag was already too much. I pack all the important stuff into a small bag, I already knew that my cousin will not deliver my computer, so I had backed up The Chronicles on a flash drive. Along with my mailing lists for Section Eight. Ain’t life grand? I sit outside with the kids, they are playing hide and seek, it is getting dark and I laugh at the thought that they do not need “Black is Beautiful” the nickname for night cammo cream, like us white boys. I was back in my room when Cindna knocked on the door. She beckoned that I should follow her. She led me to a chair in the yard near the main house. I was brought a huge plate of food, salad, enough rice to feed an army and a whole fish. A bottle of iced water and a glass were brought too. These Mozambiquen’s are a wonderful people, regardless of what Vaughn and Jay had told me. They inspired me to get sober once more, lifted me out of my black hole, it is their kindness that inspires me to try get better, not this “tough love” bullshit some psychologist dreamed up.  Like they say in a court of law, “let the record show,” well this is my fucking record.

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