One Face in a Million Book 1: Mu Shangaaniana. William Bond
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The trip to and from school was long and lonely, and she was glad that there would come a day when making these trips would finally come to an end. She could only hope that the rest of her trip to Mbabane would go without incident.
In time, they came to the border area where Christine and several other people disembarked from the train. As usual, they had to carry their luggage through customs, but for Christine, that procedure went without any complications. They then walked a short distance to a location where bus connections could be made to various locations in Swaziland. After arriving there, most of the people soon departed on a bus that was bound for several villages that Christine had never visited. Soon, Christine was very upset to discover that, because of the train delay, she had missed the last bus of the day to Mbabane!
The employee who sold bus tickets could see that the young lady before him was so upset that she was on the verge of tears. There was nothing that he could do about her situation, but he ventured to suggest that there was a nearby station where people often stopped to buy gas. At that location, there was the possibility that she might be able to get a ride with someone who was heading up to Mbabane.
Christine summoned a weak smile and thanked the young man for his suggestion. She then picked up her luggage and trudged toward the service station that was not far away.
Some dogs in the vicinity had noticed her walking through their domain, but their barking conveyed no friendliness. When she arrived at the service station, she set her luggage down and spoke to a young black man who apparently worked there.
He smiled and greeted her in Zulu.
Christine did not speak Zulu, so used hand gestures and English to convey that she had missed the bus and needed to get to Mbabane. She inquired if he could ask any customers headed there if they would be willing to take her to that destination. He seemed to get the idea, and when the next car came for gas, he apparently asked if they were headed for Mbabane, and if so, could they make room for a passenger? Judging from his shrug, his inquiries had not met with success. After the car departed, he spoke to Christine.
“Maybe next car,” he said, with a smile. “There will be more customers. Too soon to worry.”
The sun was lower in the sky, and the nearby trees were casting longer shadows. In this region, the sun would soon dip behind the nearby mountains, and darkness would come quickly. At that time, the temperature would start to become noticeably cooler. Christine had not wanted to fret, but she was beginning to have real anxiety. Would someone come along and give her a ride? And if so, how long might she have to wait for that ride? Would it be risky to ride off into the darkness with strangers? But what if no one came along to offer her a ride? What would Mother advise?
Christine could not see any place to stay in the vicinity, but she asked, “Is there a hotel near here?”
The attendant saw that the young lady would probably not think much of the local accommodations.
“There is one not far from here,” he replied, “but it be no fancy place.”
Christine didn’t respond with a comment. She hadn’t seen the hotel, but she could well imagine that it might be rather shabby. The rooms were probably poorly furnished and there were apt to be no private bathrooms. Perhaps the place might even be overrun with insects. She could just imagine.
Would it better to ride to Mbabane with a total stranger? Such a trip could be risky. A night in a local hotel did not seem appealing, and sitting all night by the gas pump was virtually unthinkable. Christine didn’t like any of her options. She wondered what Sara would have suggested they do. Again, she found herself wondering, What would Mother advise?
She looked down the road for approaching cars or trucks, but the roads seemed to be empty. The sun was sinking lower in the western sky, and she was nervous. Would help come or not? She just didn’t know.
The young attendant felt sorry for the attractive gal who had missed the bus to Mbabane. He doubted that he could solve her problem, but in sympathy, he had taken a bottle of orange soda out of the cooler, opened it, and walked over to present it to the lonely young gal who stood next to her well-used suitcase.
“I give you something to drink while you wait,” he said.
Christine was thirsty, and she accepted the bottled drink with appreciation. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I just don’t know what to do,” she continued. “I have never faced a situation quite like this.”
“Do not worry,” said the attendant. “Something will work out. You will see.”
The sun had dropped behind the mountains, and dusk would arrive before long. If it grew dark, what would she do? If she could not get a ride, she would have to consider staying at the local hotel—assuming that some accommodations were even available. Perhaps going to the local hotel was her only option. If a ride became available within an hour or so, she presumed that she might take it. Otherwise, she would head for the local hotel and see if she could get a room.
About twenty minutes passed before a medium-size truck pulled up to the pump. The attendant spoke briefly with the driver and then began putting fuel in the tank of his truck.
Later, the attendant opened the hood, checked the oil, and added the necessary amount that was needed. The attendant then went to tell the driver how much he owed. They also engaged in a brief conversation. He received some money, and a few moments later, the attendant stepped over to speak to Christine.
“Your transportation has arrived.” He smiled. “This driver is going to Mbabane, and he will give you a ride—if you wish.”
Christine now had to make a fast decision. Should she accept a ride that might be risky, should she try to get a room at some unseen hotel, or should she sit by the road all night and wait around for a bus that would be going to Mbabane on the following day? What should she do? What should she do?
Christine glanced at the driver and saw that he was a black man who was, perhaps, thirty years old. He acknowledged her with a smile, and she returned a smile. He seemed benign, but looks could be deceiving. She had to make an immediate decision, for she knew that she shouldn’t keep the man waiting. Finally, she nodded to let them know that she would accept a ride to Mbabane.
The service station attendant opened the passenger door for Christine, and she climbed into the cab. He then took her luggage and placed it in a secure place in the bed of the truck. He then went around and spoke briefly with the driver in Zulu. Christine did not understand their conversation, but she saw that the attendant had given the driver some money which he had accepted with great reluctance. The driver then started the engine, and Christine smiled at the attendant and thanked him for his assistance. As they were pulling away from the station, Christine and the driver exchanged smiles and a wave of farewell with the attendant. For better or worse, Christine had made a decision, and her options had ended. She was now heading up to Mbabane with a complete stranger.
When she glanced at the driver’s face, he smiled at her, and she had summoned a weak smile for him. Was his just a friendly smile, or was he already thinking of possible opportunities that might arise as they drove along the dark and mountainous highway? It seemed best not to think about that.
She had noticed his hands on the steering wheel and seen how large they were. She couldn’t recall ever seeing such large hands. When she had glanced at his face, she had noticed that he was clean-shaven except for a slight mustache. He had fine features, and as a matter of fact, she found him to be an attractive man. For some reason, they hadn’t exchanged many words, but as she looked out upon the darkening landscape, she had suddenly realized that she could be attracted to a man of color. Her head told her that she wanted no situations to develop on this journey, but at the same time, she had entertained some unthinkable thoughts. What would it feel like to be lovingly held in the arms of a virile black man? He seemed masculine and strong, and she tended to suspect that the man who sat beside her could be quite a lover.
She knew perfectly well that she did not want a romantic encounter with the driver who sat beside her, and she was amazed to think that she could be attracted