Lady Victoria stepped into the bathroom after a hard day's work for a refreshing shower. She had come home early that day unable to bear the merciless sun beating down upon the hot Kalahari desert. It had been 12 years since she had lost her husband after the uprising in Morocco in 1936 and it had been long since her tears had dried.
Her's had been a fairy-tale love story, with unprecedented twists and turns. She had come as a part of the American Red Cross team to help those who had been wounded in the uprising. She was then an exuberant teen, fresh out of a decent nursing school in the U.S. Trained, smart, beautiful and intelligent, she was just the type of lady every man dreamt of marrying. But then rebellious as she was, she had just broken up a loving boy friend just because she had found him too predictable and she wanted to explore what life had in store for her. The next thing she knew, she had volunteered for the relief camp at Morocco and she found herself on a small ship to Morocco amongst a hefty supply of medicines and gauge bandages. On the sultry soil of Morocco, she helped the doctors in changing bandages and doing other sundry tasks like satisfying their carnal desires. Then came Mohammed who had changed her life forever. He was a member of the Moroccan Army of Liberation who was brought to the camp wounded and barely living. Victoria nursed him as was required of her job. Somehow the person survived and stayed on in the camp for some days. Victoria sometimes caught him staring at her. Slowly Mohammed started searching for opportunities of talking to her. Victoria had initially avoided him at first but then one night under the cool Moroccan moon, they had started talking and they had slowly opened thei hearts to each other. They found they had quite a lot of things in common, their common dislike for Roosevelt's policies, their common love for tap-dancing and their common fear of rattle snakes. They even found that they had almost the same recurring nightmare of falling into a dry well although with a slight change in events! That night they felt connected and they became pretty sure that soul mates did exist on this planet. And when they kissed that night for the first time under the moon light with an owl hooting in the back ground, they knew that they were made for each other. After a few days of courtship, Mohammed proposed marriage. Although it caught Victoria by surprise or to be precise, by shock, she agreed just to give Mohammed's love a try. They hadnt divorced till the uprising was over and even after that, a fact that sometimes astonishes Victoria because when she had accepted Mohammed's proposal, she was just a casual teen with a non-chalant attitude towards life trying to experiment a marriage with a foreigner which she knew would be over before a wink. A part of her only wanted the marriage for the legitimate sex. But as she grew wiser, she had realised how mature, understanding and loving Mohammed had been. His performance on bed had definitely given a booster to their marriage though. But then Mohammed died years after their marriage on a chilly winter night, 13th of December to be precise and Victoria was heart-broken. She realised how much she missed him. They had decided not to have children, lest their love for each other was shared and the time and attention they gave each other was divided. It was then that she realised her truest love for him and she took a decision of staying on in Morocco alone in the memories of Mohammed and not marrying again. Mohammed had set up a small fruit shop with mediocre business and Victoria decided to sell fruits till she breathed her last.
But business today had not been good for her. With the competition growing and Morocco progressing, it had been getting harder for her to compete. And with a failing health, Victoria had been pressing herself to go on for some more days. She now regretted the decision of not having children. She was lonely and friendless and she sometimes felt the urge to go on waning.
That day when she was about to enter the bathroom, she immediately saw a thin, malnourished black boy staring at her from the window. Victoria was stunned. The first thought that struck her mind was that "How dare a boy hardly 12 or 13 years old do such a shameless act of peeping through the window of the bathroom of the lady around 45 years old?" He shouted at the boy but he seemed unperturbed. She quickly put on the bare necessities of clothing and immediately rushed out to confront the boy. The boy unashamed and undisturbed stood there simply staring at Victoria. On closer inspection, Victoria immediately recognised the boy. She had caught him staring at her on numerous occasions. She had seen him outside her shop, on the road, near her house and elsewhere. But they had not talked to each other.
Victoria's anger somehow dispersed and she was taken over by a sense of curiosity as to who the boy was. His eyes oddly resembled Mohammed's. Victoria called the boy inside and they got on talking. She could not still explain the dissapearance of her sudden burst of anger. As they got on talking, Victoria learnt that his name was Abubo. He was born in a small village nearby. He said he was 12 years old and was born on the 13th of December. He said he hated Roosevelt, he loved tap-dancing and he was very afraid of rattle-snakes. He also added that he had a recurring dream of falling into a dry well often. Then he said "Victoria, my love, I am here for you." Victoria fainted.
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