And all of a sudden in the middle of her sentence, she paused.
‘Did you hear that,’ she asked?
‘Hear what?’ The only sounds I could hear were the birds off in the distance, chirping a fine tune. And before I could respond any further, she stood up and began to dance. And then I felt it. The music surrounded us – a big bellied man on a piano, a purple woman playing the banjo, several little people with Litungus and Maracas shaking everywhere.
She danced the Samba and shook like the Basoga people, bringing unity in all the sounds that radiated around us. I was mesmerized and in a state of disbelief. I rubbed my eyes and once they opened, I saw elephants dressed in colourful clothes, swaying to the music. Koalas in caps and Macaques wearing bells.
A merry-go-round, full of little things with pumpkin heads, went round and round at a speed faster than my eyes could keep up with. Ice cream cones were floating in the sky and cotton candy swirled around the imaginary stars. She reached out for some and let it melt away in her mouth, until her lips were rosy red, like the colour of…could it be? Yes, on an ice stand stood a 20 layered red velvet cake, covered with cream cheese frosting that looked like fluffy clouds galore. She dove into it, and gobbled each layer, one by one.
The initial shock had surpassed. I took to my feet and swayed through the blue grass, flying over the multi coloured eggs and somersaulting in the air, like no acrobat had before. She took my hand and we jumped into the green sea, so soft and squishy. We danced to the madness and sang at the top of our lungs. I was ecstatic, like a child at a fair. Yes, this was my fair.
I turned around and looked at her, ‘Thank you for making me hear the music.’