Fragments of a Childhood by Rowley Habib

THE AWAKENING Carolyn climbed up onto the sofa beneath the window and began jumping up and down in rhythm with her chanting. The dust from the sofa rose thickly from beneath her feet. The early morning sunlight streamed in through the open window of the kitchen forming two huge beams of light, one a little larger and brighter than the other, that slanted down and rested on the floor and part of the wall. The dust from the sofa and the smoke from the frying fat in the pan on the stove intermingled in the beams, moving and shuffling. They were like little live beings, never still. Nick sliced his arm through the beam of light, and the particles of dust swirled madly for a second, then gradually settled down again. The boy sliced his arm back through it, watching the things swirl madly again, this time in the opposite direction. Violet and Louise were lined back against the wall waiting for the beams to settle down. You could not see the dust and smoke in the rest of the room where they were not caught in the light, unless you looked very closely, then when you saw them you began to see more and more and you wondered why you had never seen them before. ‘Now!’ Violet cried, and the two girls shot from the wall and sliced through the light. They seemed a little surprised when they reached the other side. So thick and impenetrable the beams seemed that they looked solid and the children were always surprised to be able to pass through them. The girls turned and waited till the dust and smoke settled down. They leaned slightly forward from the wall, like race-horses straining at the barrier, ready to plunge back through the light again. ‘Right!’ Violet cried, and the two shot off their marks again and went squealing through the light to the other side of the room. Nick walked through the shafts of light, slowly, fascinated when the big yellow beams parted to let him through. He stood in the middle of the strongest beam letting it engulf him up to the waist. The light streamed around him swirling and shuffling. And standing there the boy experienced a very real sensation of being in something tangible, like water, although he could not actually feel the light about him. ‘Come on you children,’ their mother called. ‘Sit down while your porridge is hot.’ The room was full of the wonderful aroma of frying eggs and bacon. The children made a few more quick passes through the beams of light then one by one took their places at the table, wading through their porridge, impatient to get at the eggs and bacon that followed. Afterwards their mother gave Luke the big lunch bag with all their lunches and the children trooped out the door into the glorious morning sunshine, on their way to school. Nick went with his brothers and sisters as far as the gate. He tried not to think of all that time when they would be gone. He played with the rest as though he were one of them, but when they came to the gate he knew he wasn't. The rest carried on, through the gate and out onto the patch of grass, but he stopped — partly from habit and partly because he feared going any further anyway. For he was not yet of school age. So the others set off down the roadway, moving slowly further and further away. The boy stood a long time watching them, his heart sinking. A great loneliness came