mr. africa -- d. faruq

[swing]

<center>The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacherman
The only boy who can ever teach me
Was the son of a preacherman
Yes he was, he was, ooh, yes he was ( yes he was )

How well I remember
The look that was in his eyes
Stealin' kisses from me on the sly
Takin' time to make time
Tellin'me that he's all mine
Learnin' from each other's knowin'
Lookin' to see how much we've grown and

The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacherman
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacherman
Yes he was, he was, ooh, yes he was

(A. Franklin.)

</center>

Danladi Faruq was a mixture of religion and magic -- born in a bayou swelter on a Sunday afternoon, he received both his name and purpose. As the eldest son, he was to carry the legacy that his father had created with his demanding presence and passion for sermons. A man born from both worlds had the ability to see through both sets of eyes and often blurred the line between sainthood and the filth of a sinner. Never perfect, he continuously searched for the river that would make him fully clean from his father's shadow and clean his mother's name entirely. The truth of the bayou was that you could always leave, but the voodoo never let its stranglehold loosen.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ August 01, 2005 05:36 PM: Message edited by: secondhand bruises ]</font>

[swing]

One.
Full Name: Danladi Tukunbo Faruq.
Goes by..: Sunday, Faruq.
Occupation: Public Relations for Lighthouse Gospel.

Current age: 28
Date of birth: 03-11.
Birthplace: Bayou Cane, Louisiana

Name(s), age(s), and occupation(s) of parent(s):

Ajani Azuka Faruq, 64, preacher.
Theresa Faruq, 50, preacher's wife.

Name(s), age(s), and occupation(s) of sibling(s):

A'isha Faruq, sister, 30, hairdresser.
Salim Faruq, brother, 25, political activist.
Tahir, brother, 25, political non-activist.
Jamal, brother, 21, incarcerated.
Fatimah, sister, 18, high school.
Atika, sister, 12, elementary school.


Height: 6'4"
Weight: 212.
Hair color: Brown.
Eye color: Brown.
Left-, right-handed, or ambidextrous: ambidextrous.

Heritage/Nationality: Nigerian American.
Religion: Baptist.
Education:

High school.
College, masters in communication.

Marital status: Married to my work.
Children: Not as of yet.

Two.

Likes: Religion, talking, music, African literature, soul food, weather patterns, family unity.
Dislikes: Satan.


Three: Do you...

Smoke: No.
Curse: I try not to swear.
Sing well: Not really.
Sing in the shower: No.
Talk to yourself: No.
Believe in yourself: Yes.
Play an instrument: Traditional drums.
Want to go to college?: I've completed it.
Want to get married?: Yes, eventually.
Want to have children?: Yes.
Think you're a health freak?: No.
Get along with your parents?: Yes.
Get along with your siblings?: Most of them.

Four: Current...

Clothes: Comfortable ones?
Mood: Driven.
Music: The revival.
Taste: Hawaiian punch.
Make-up: No?
Hair-style: Bald.
Annoyance: The children who like to smash my windows with their baseballs.
Smell: Something earthy.
Book you're reading: The Bible.
CD in CD Player: I don't have one of those.
DVD in player: Those either.
Refreshment: Water.
Worry: If I can make the appointment I was supposed to make today.

Five: Favorites...

Food: Chicken, feeding into the stereotype.
Drink: Milk?
Color: Green.
Album: I don't listen to much music save for Gospel and it's impossible to choose one.
Shoes: I don't care too much what I have on my feet?
Candy: I wasn't allowed to eat candy, and I supposed those buttermints are okay?
Animal: Dogs.
TV Show: I don't watch television.
Movie: Or movies.
Song: Amazing Grace.
Girl's name: Jasmine.
Boy's name: Kendrick.
Vegetable: Greens.
Fruit: watermelon.

Six.

If I were a month, I'd be: May.
If I were a day of the week, I'd be: Sunday.
If I were a time of day, I'd be: Three PM.
If I were a planet, I'd be: Earth.
If I were a sea animal, I'd be: A clownfish.
If I were a direction, I'd be: This way.
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be: An ottoman.
If I were a sin, I'd be: None of them!
If I were a historical figure, I'd be: Martin Luther King, Jr.
If I were a liquid, I'd be: water.
If I were a tree, I'd be: an oak tree.
If I were a bird, I'd be: a dove.
If I were a flower, I'd be: a lily.
If I were a kind of weather, I'd be: a breezy summer day.
If I were a mythical creature, I'd be: I don't know what I'd be.
If I were a musical instrument, I'd be: a drum.
If I were an animal, I'd be: a small dog.
If I were a color, I'd be: green.
If I were an emotion, I'd be: devotion.
If I were a vegetable, I'd be: corn.
If I were a sound, I'd be: hand bells.
If I were an element, I'd be: water.
If I were a car, I'd be: fast.
If I were a song, I'd be: I don't know!
If I were a movie, I'd be: ...I don't know?
If I were a food, I'd be: nutritious.
If I were a place, I'd be: Nigeria.
If I were a material, I'd be: Linen.
If I were a taste, I'd be: sour.
If I were a scent, I'd be: good smelling?
If I were a religion, I'd be: Christian.
If I were a word, I'd be: religious.
If I were an object, I'd be: useful.
If I were a body part, I'd be: hands.
If I were a facial expression, I'd be: a smile.
If I were a part of a house, I'd be: the front door.
If I were a subject in school, I'd be: religion.
If I were a cartoon character, I'd be: I have no idea.
If I were a shape, I'd be a: a triangle.
If I were a number, I'd be: 333.

[swing]

The house spun like a spider web -- connecting two very different families to one another by two cyclic rings of gold. Ajani kept an ever watchful eye on his children when they filed into the house in their Sunday best after spending time with their relatives. At dinner, they sat down at the long table in alternating genders with mother and father on the very ends of the table. A'isha, now twelve, swung her legs back and forth as she tried to still a hum in her throat while her fork stabbed idly at the carrots on the plate. Danladi, just ten, made faces with his vegetables during the prayer that was spoken from his father's baritone.

Ever since he was old enough to remember, his father had done this. It was his way of instilling the fear of God into his children, he had told his wife once. The loud tone of his voice rolled through the house like thunder and echoed long after he seated himself and gestured for them to begin. The children looked up to smile politely at their father after the prayer, but Danladi kept his face bowed toward his masterpiece, because he was finally beginning to get the desired likeness of his father.

"Danladi Tukunbo Faruq," his father's voice boomed his name so loudly that he had no choice but to look up with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I--"

"What have I told you about lying?" His father fumed slowly as he awaited a response.

"Liars, oh, liars, they go to hell." A'isha's voice rose in a gospel singsong mockery of her father, which caused her mother to stifle laughter with a napkin.

"A'isha!" Ajani's anger swung toward her beaming face as he threw that napkin on the table. "The Lord's songs are not to be made into something shameful!" His long dark finger then pointed toward his wife who erupted into a fit of laughter. "They get this from you, you know!"

"Baby, don't be so serious all the time!" Theresa waved a hand at her husband before she reached across the table and tipped Danladi's plate up toward the man for him to see. "Or you'll wind up lookin' just like this, with carrots comin' out y'ears an' corn stuck in y'teeth."

Ajani sat at the end of the table and stared at the image on the plate for a long time before his frown slowly began to twist into a grin as laughter broke through the cracks in the corners. "I should have named you artist, Danladi."

[swing]

The children were joined at the hand like ducklings behind their mother and father as they wound through the bayou toward the old church that stood like a white washed beacon in its center. Slowly they filled up the dark wooden benches while their father stood at the pulpit and screamed until the fire in his eyes had thundered through the structure and was felt on every raised hand. When the service was over, the whispers would start under the wide brims of Sunday hats while shifty eyes slanted toward the woman who settled white lace gloves over her palms and gathered up her children to take them away from the church.

"Don't listen to a thing they say, they don't know no better." Her response was always the same as the children watched their friends wave from behind the flower patterns of their mother's skirts or from underneath the trees that spread their branches apart just enough to speckle the grass in white light.

When they had all filed into their grandmother's house (one who was not a real relation by blood but enchantment) she pushed them into play clothes and sent them out back save for Danladi, who was still in his Sunday best and led by the hand away from the house with its wide porch. He never said anything to his mother as they wound back through the bayou toward an awkward shaped house with peeling green shutters that hung sideways from their hinges. Slowly, his mother ducked into the house from the sideways shaped door and kept a firm grip on her son's hand.

The ceilings jolted high and curved in murals that depicted various Bible stories before an old woman leaned heavy on her cane in the doorway and looked between mother and son but said nothing. Instead, Theresa twirled the boy toward the woman and pulled down his lower right eyelid. The woman hunched over her cane to examine the marking on the inside of his eyelid before she nodded and pulled the makeshift curtain out of the way.

Inside a woman rattled out a cough into skeleton fingers while wide wet eyes stared at the two for recognition but found only the blurry figures of mother and son. Theresa moved toward the bed and swept back the hair from the woman's clammy forehead before she reached into her purse and settled a circle of bread upon her sternum before she began to speak in a low voice.

" Non Ou se gerizon mwen..."

Danladi watched his mother speaking to the woman before she snapped her fingers for him to come and put the symbol of the cross on the woman's forehead before he took the cracker from her chest and ate it. The woman closed her eyes and reached out to stroke Danladi's cheek before Theresa grasped him by the hand and wandered out of the house with a nod to the old woman.

"You are very very special, you know that right?"

"Yes mama."

"An' you ain't gonna tell no preacha man 'bout what your mama was sayin' in there right?"

"No mama."

"An' you ain't gonna tell your daddy 'bout what you did neither, is you?"

"No mama, daddy wouldn't understand."

"That's my baby." Theresa smiled and smoothed her hand over his face before they walked back toward their grandmother's house.

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ August 11, 2005 08:53 PM: Message edited by: secondhand bruises ]</font>

[swing]

"I had the dream again."

"What dream, baby?"

"The one about the woman."

The reaction was always hot to cold, warm to frigid. Danladi spoke of this woman and his mother immediately froze in her tracks. Clothes were left off the line as she turned around with a kind of fear in her eye that he had never seen in the fiery spirit of his mother. She folded her hands around his own and crouched low to be at eye level with him.

"What'd she say to you, baby?"

"She said she would see me soon."

Theresa paused and took her face in both of her hands, for a moment her face displayed all of the anger and passion that his father's speeches provoked before it faded into something far more serious. "Baby, ain't no one gon' see you no time. You know you's the most special one I got, right?"

Danladi nodded.

"Next time she says she gon' see you soon, you jus' tell her ain't nobody gon' take my baby nowhere, y'hear?"

"I hear you, mama." Danladi looked at the ground before he peeled his mother's hands from his face and stood up slowly. Theresa watched as he reached into the basket and held out a white linen shirt for her to press onto the line.

"Where'd you learn to be so helpful, huh?"

"God told me to be helpful."

"That's right He did," his mother spoke with pride as she pinched the fabric onto the line and took another shirt from his hands. " An' ain't nothin' you ever did never involved in no voodoo, so don't you let no one tell you different."

"I know, mama."

"Good, now go in and set the table for mama an' if you're real good we'll go visit your Auntie in Chalmette."

"I'll be real good mama, I promise!"

"I know you will baby, I know."

[swing]

Beauty held little meaning in a garden full of fanning blossoms and chartreuse leaves that hung heavy with diamond drops of dew along their edges. Thick dark trees shot up from the ground and spread their branches widely so that the ground was caught in patches of light. As a child, he remembered the path well -- bare feet barely crushed the underbrush as he walked toward the divide in the road that was not marked by gnarled root or a brilliant blossom, but instead a large stone altar. The carvings had changed, their elaborate faces came to bear people he was more familiar with than the obscure.

He settled his feet firmly against the dark earth in front of the stones and swept his fingers over the faces that were of his mother and other maternal figures in his life. The trees groaned in their sway with the wind that seemed warm rather than cool in the comfortable climate of the garden. He swallowed down the stone that was slow to form in his throat before he lolled his head to the side. An inhale of a strange but familiar odor crept over his shoulder long before the spindly white fingers touched his skin.

"You're a lot taller than I remember," her voice was soft as she spoke. Taking a step back, the woman tightened the white shawl around her arms and curved her mouth into a faint smile as pale eyes watched him.

"You..You look exactly the same." Shock laced his words as he turned around to face her, shielding his eyes just faintly from her because the sun hit her skin directly and made her shimmer like some ethereal beast.

Her laugh was melodic as she tipped her head back so that he could see it ripple in her throat. Gold spun hair flew back like blades before she tipped her head up and let her eyes narrow into slits. Fingers fanned over her breastbone when she spoke. "Should I be complimented or offended by this revelation?" Her words echoed like a shiver through the trees as she stepped forward to circle him. "Though, I must say I prefer you all grown up. What a handsome devil you've become Danladi." Her fingers swiped over his shoulders as she made her circle around him.

"I am no devil," he responded as he brushed her fingers from his shoulders.

"No," she began with a purse of her lips. "You are no devil, you don't have the heart." Her fingers crawled across the linen over his heart.

"The devil has a heart?"

"Oh," she smiled through the breath of a word as she leaned in to paint her lips over his ear. "You'd be surprised how much heart I have."

He tilted his head toward hers until the cold jut of her cheekbone was flat against his so that his words would pour into her ear, "I am rarely surprised by vanity. It is what makes the world go round."

"Funny," she spoke the word like frostbite against the ridge of his ear before she pulled away. "I thought that greed did."

"A sin is a sin no matter how you name it."

"I prefer not to, actually." She smirked before she slid onto the altar with arms dangling over the ledge like a mausoleum carving. "Labels are a nasty and tricky business that I really don't have time for."

"I didn't think that time was a relevant concept for you."

"Not relevant no, but a necessary evil." She offered him a wide bow of her mouth before tossing a wink. "Wake up darling, I'll see you very soon."

[swing]

Danladi's fingers spread wide over the surface of the table which fanned its spider veins of marble beneath the fragile porcelain cups that sat on immaculate saucers. Across from him sat a man with a sullen expression -- cherub's mouth down turned just slightly as dark eyes hovered over the stoic expression of his companion. When Gabriel's eyes turned away toward the window, Danladi took up the small cup of coffee but halted before it reached his mouth. He stared into the blackened mirror as the sigh that escaped his lips disturbed its reflection.

"I had a dream the other night," he spoke in a low tone that still rumbled across the table like an earthquake. "About her."

"Oh?" Gabriel's eyes flickered away from the window that had suddenly darkened as soon as Danladi spoke. "What happened?"

"The same thing that always happens, save that she spoke to me," Danladi paused to take a sip from the cup and then fingers set it back on the saucer but remained glued around its lip. "I haven't dreamt of her in ages, I wonder what it means."

"What did she say to you?" Gabriel strained his words through a tight-lipped smile as his hand wrapped around the cup in front of him. "Anything interesting?"

"Not really," Danladi spoke as he pulled his hand away from the cup to rest fingertips on the cool surface of the table. "Just that she would see me soon."

Gabriel's hand tightened around the cup until it shattered in the heart of his palm and skewed bits of porcelain and coffee like an oil spill across the table. "Did she now, that is strange," he paused to look at the mess he had made due to Danladi's horrified expression. "How terrible! I seem to have made a mess, will you excuse me just a moment?"

Danladi nodded as Gabriel shifted away from the table in order to grab a towel from the front counter where the staff stood in wide-eyed terror. Slow circles cleaned up the mess while Danladi smoothed down his tie and cleared his throat. "This bothers you?"

"What bothers me?" Gabriel asked upon his return as he folded back into his chair.

"What I told you. It bothers you?"

"Well, don't you think it's a little strange to have dreams about her?"

"Why would it be? People have dreams about God and angels all the time and have seen neither. That is not considered strange."

"Most people would consider that kind of dream a nightmare."

"Perhaps," Danladi shrugged before he stood from the table. "But I've had this dream all of my life, it is a kind of comfort."

"Evil shouldn't be a comfort."

"Neither should religion, but many use that as a crutch every day. Thank you for the coffee, it was good to see you again."

"Will you let me know if she does come to visit?"

"I thought you were a God-fearing man," Danladi grinned.

"Something like that. Still, I'm curious."

"Curious, maybe. Or worried, but either way I will let you know." Danladi turned away from the table before he paused. "For someone who doesn't take much stock in superstition, you seem very interested in this."

"Let's just say that she and I have some unfinished business."

"I don't want to hear about how you sold your soul." Danladi covered his ears with his hands.

"Some other time, I'll explain everything." Gabriel waved him off. "Better hurry or you'll miss your train."