oh saturdays and slingshots

saturdays, are still generally long slow days filled with laundry and not much else to do. i was through with my wash, and i was dying for a little stimulation.

it was early and nobody was in the house.

i swept my room, 'made my bed' by throwing my one sheet into wrinkle free status, then went out into the backyard with my new best friend, my homemade slingshot.

i have been wanting to make a slingshot since i was in the first grade and i started collecting ecclectic homemade battle gear. my uncle had made me a wooden sheild to block the flying unripe figs that my older brother and his friends pelted at me on my walk home from school, and i found some sharp rocks to attatch at the end of my spears that would be good for stabbing. my dad bought me camoflauged shorts and a matching shirt, perfect for a city girl trying to hide out. i was set, i thought. but still, deep down inside, i knew i needed a slingshot, or flaming nunchucks.

one day, while i was out on the side of the highway trying to flag down a speeding tro tro i noticed a small shop, the size of a storage shed, selling thick red rubber bands. i walked over and asked the man how much. he said a few cents, so i bought one. then he laughed and asked me what i was planning on doing with my red rubber band.

"defend myself, kill things, you know."

"do you know HOW to make a catapult?" i could tell he didn't have much faith in the white girl.

"ya. of course i do."

"so you know you should buy this band here as well." he said, pointing to a skinnier length of long red rubber. "and this." he held up a short leather strip, the launching pad.

"oh ya, let me get some of those also."

i gave him a few more coins, and snatched the goods away. then i went back to the side of the road, with my purchase dangling from one hand. all the cars were full, nobody was picking me up. my dark hair had absorbed all the suns rays and was sitting on my head like a sizzling cap. i needed some shade.

i went over and sat down at a roadside bench, in the shade. i stared at my rubber bands and felt excitement at the possibilities. i'd make a slingshot, give up my home, travel in the woods, and eat the meat i killed using the slingshot over a fire i started, for the rest of my life. i'd bathe in rivers, sleep in trees, and be free. i wouldn't cry when i sprained my ankles, and eventually i might not even need shoes. i'd finally be hardcore.

a young man, about my age, walked by me looked at my hand and giggled. his smile made me smile. he stopped a few feet ahead, turned around, and asked if i was planning on making a catapult.

"yes. i am."

"can i help you?" he asked.

"i kind of wanted to do this by myself." any male involvement in this activity was going to ruin my vision.

"i see you have the string" he said "but you need that thing..." he was squinting his eyes trying to remember the english word. "you need the stick, for the middle."

"ya, i know. i'll get it later."

"why don't you let me go find the stick for you?"

i didn't say anything, i just stared at him and thought about it. then... "where are you going to get it?"

"i'll have to go to the bush."

"okay, fine. you can find the stick, but make sure it's a good one, nice and strong."

"yes, i will. wait me, i'm coming." then he walked off, across the highway, into the wild.

i sat and waited, not long, and he returned. he had carved the stick into a perfect Y, and he even made the handle smooth by taking off the bark, revealing a firm white underlayer. when he came over to the bench and sat down next to me i noticed he only had one arm.

i stared at it.

"give me the string." he said, motioning to the opposite end of the bench, where they lay.

i handed them to him.

he wedged the stick between his no-arm armpit and he held the thick rubber band around the twig with his other hand. he took the smaller skinnier rubber band and tied the thick rubber band to the stick using thta. he cut off the excess with the pointy edges of his incisors and spit it out on the ground. then he looked up at me.

"can i help you with any of this?" i asked, more intruiged by watching a one armed man make a slingshot than feeling the need to do it all by myself.

"oh don't worry."

then he worked on tying the other half to the opposite side of the Y.

"you really know what you're doing." i said while a chunk of rubberband was in his mouth.

when he was free he looked up and said "every small boy in ghana has a catapult. but you? you are a grown white woman. what will you be using this for?"

i laughed and looked down. "anything really. mostly i just want to shoot things."

then he asked "why?".

"i don't know why, i just feel like it."

hearing the words come out of my mouth i seemed so blase about life, about taking life. i didn't believe i was ever a vegetarian.

"what will you shoot?"

"what is there to shoot?"

"okay, well, you can go looking for bushmeat."

"yes, that is what i will do."

he handed me my completed killing device, and stood up to leave.

"hey" i said, "thanks for helping me. you did a lot better job than i would have done." he had secured it tightly, and i was sure it'd last a long time.

"yes, it's true. and you see my arm here?" he lifted his wedge.

when i looked closer i realized he actually did have an arm, but it had curled up and molded itself together.

"what happened?" i asked.

"buruli ulcer."

"sorry." i said.

"eh, it's okay. by the way, what is your name?"

"i'm kacie."

"okay kacie, have a nice day."

i raised my slingshot up "you too, and thanks again."

now whenever i look at my slingshot i think of my buruli ulcer friend. sometimes i see him playing checkers with his friends, when i'm waiting for a tro tro. i call out to him, and he gives me a big smile back and waves.

but it was all an act, my desire to kill things.

nanakwame came by that saturday, saw me with my slingshot shooting at nothing in the distance, and told me i wasn't "correct", that we needed to go to where his finger was pointing.

i jumped up gladly.

we went hiking in the bush behind our house, after having walked through acres and acres of orange trees to get there. in the orange grove he showed me his shooting skills by aiming at the innocent fruit, which plunged to it's death because of his accurate shot. he stuck them in his pockets for a better time, when we hid and ate them in secret.

my pants were full of walnut sized rocks and i couldn't stop shooting.

"kessy!? NO! you don't shoot there- you don't shoot there. you shoot the tree, why?"

"because i want to!" i'd yell, as i launched another attack on the distant folage.

he walked over authoritaritively and ripped the slingshot out of my hands.

"hey nanakwame! what are you doing?"

"is no correct!"

"i'm shooting..."

he pouted his lips and handed me my slingshot. "like this" he said, creeping close to the ground eyeing a little bird sitting on the end of a tree branch. he jumped and shot and the bird flew away. i liked the sound of rubber whizzing through air.

we spent the rest of the afternoon shooting birds and oranges. we were only successful with the oranges.

"is kama kama!" nanakwame said, approving of my newly aquired slingshot skills. i was quite proud myself, even though we didn't get any animals. but i was glad we didn't kill a bird, nanakwame stopped shooting once i told him i don't eat bird, apart from the usual.

"you don't eat then you don't shoot." he said.

but i kept at it any way, sure i wasn't going to come close to anything that had an opportunity to move. i wanted my shot to sound like his.

we eventually had to go home because we both needed water. after a day of hiking in the sun i rested for a bit on my bed, but the sound of the birds crashing into the front window was disturbing me. i tried to ignore it, but it sounded more like a flock trying to get through than just 1.

i heard sofie's door open, not realizing she was home too.

"sofie!" i called through my window, the one that faces the living room.

"those birds man!" she said.

i grabbed my slingshot and went into the living room. "i'll shoot them." i said. "i just need some rocks."

sofie ran into the backyard and found some uneven concrete chunks and deposited them in my palm.

"thanks." i said.

we crept down the hallway, quietly, the way i had seen sakola do it when he shot the birds. they were kaa-ing in the front, bashing their beaks into the thick black reflection. i threw open the front door, jumped up, let the concrete chunk fly and it hit the window with a bang.

all the birds turned and took flight, unscathed. but the sound of the rock hitting the window was jarring, and i inspected for possible crackage.

sofie didn't get to see what happened but she heard it. "nice shot." she said. i had hoped i impressed her, but i didn't show it. i wanted her to see my unlimited abilities, one of which was master hunter.

but i knew i was a long way off when just a few days later auntie had some men at the house repairing the front window.

"it broke?" i asked, eyes big and feeling fully responsible.

sofie said "yeah- you didn't hear the bird the other night? it crashed through the window- woke me up and scared me half to death!"

i looked at the spot where the firework crack was expanding. "are you sure?" then i admitted guiltly with concerned eyebrows... "i think i broke it."

"na, i heard it, it was a bird in the middle of the night."

i felt the need to fess up to auntie but i didn't know how to explain a situation with so much uncertainty involved. in her language either i broke the window, or i didn't, and i wasn't sure if i really had.

the crack was exactly where i intended to shoot the bird, but sofie said it crashed through at night.

"okay" i said, "i believe you."

i've now set some ground rules when i go out slingshotting.

1. i'm not allowed to do it around glass.

2. or children.

and i've had to come to terms with the fact that my future probably doesn't involve being hardcore, or, as much as i'd like to pretend, but sometimes, pretending is the best part.