The next thing I knew, I was in Sam’s lap, which actually brought me closer to Mufasa’s ass. See, I couldn’t think straight for shit!
Sam chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. “Temple, this is my friend, Burhaan. Burhaan, this is Temple; remember I told you about her?”
Burhaan’s eyes actually shifted to my face, and this dude stared at me before lowering his body in kind of a bow.
My confused eyes scurried to Sam’s face.
Smiling, he said, “He’s honored to meet you.”
“Yeah, uh…me too,” I muttered.
Laughing, he said something else to Burhaan in that foreign language, and the beast left, sauntering away like any king would, with his head held high.
Once I’d climbed out of Sam’s lap and my heart had returned to its regular rate, I asked, “What language is that?”
“It is the first language, now considered many African tongues in one. But we call it Asili, after our tribe.”
I nodded. “Sam…are we really here or is this a dream or am I high or something? It’s beautiful and peaceful, and it seems real. That lion appeared to be hella real, but I feel like I should pinch myself or something.”
“Pinch yourself and see.”
I hesitated before shaking my head. “If this is a dream, I’d rather not wake up from it. Not yet.”
His smile reappeared, dark lips framing startlingly white teeth, a vision I’d beheld long ago that still marveled me.
“The fables, or what you thought were fables…they were about here, this place?” I questioned.
“This place, the wonders of life…and my future—who I was and who I was destined to become.”
“Who are you other than Sampson Ibrahim?” The man who still owns my heart even though you broke it.
He stared at me, his intense dark eyes boring holes into mine. I didn’t, couldn’t look away. I matched his unblinking gaze until he dropped his eyes. Then he stood and stooped over, lifting to an erect posture, holding a jagged rock. He kneeled before me, one big mitt of a hand resting on my lap for a moment before he sighed deeply, flipping his hand so that it was palm-up on my lap.
“Watch. No words. Just watch. Okay?” he said, pleading evident in his voice.
With a slight frown, I nodded. “Okay.” But, honestly, he was scaring the hell out of me.
Nevertheless, my eyes were glued to my lap and his hand as he took the rock he held and slid it across his palm, slicing it open. I gasped, my eyes jumping up to meet his.
Shaking his head, he implored, “Watch.”
So, I did. I watched as blood oozed from the cut, making me queasy; and then, after not more than a minute had passed, I watched the cut seal itself shut. No more bleeding.
My eyes met his again as he wiped the residual blood away with his fingers and said, “This is who I am.”
And then, everything went black.
6
Sampson
I paced the room, my eyes darting over to her sleeping form with every step. I’d moved too fast. I’d—shit, I didn’t know what I’d done. All I knew was that the love of my life fainted after I revealed my true self to her. That’d been hours ago, and I was no closer to knowing what to do than I was when I laid her on the bed.
I was sure I needed to wake her up, but I wasn’t ready for her to run away from me. Yet, if she did, I’d understand and definitely wouldn’t hold it against her. Hell, when I fully realized what and who I was, I wanted to run away from it, all of it. I even tried to formulate a way out of my reality for a while, but I eventually realized there was no use.
I grew up like any other boy. I got knee scrapes and stuff, and I healed fast, but not instantly as I did now. The benefits of my bloodline increased slowly, and as it was properly explained to me, reached full strength when I reached manhood. That point varied for us. For me, it was prom night, after I made love to Temple. Lying in bed in that hotel room holding her, the culmination of everything I’d been told and taught by my parents came to fruition. I could hear and feel everything. I could see all the yesterdays and sense the tomorrows. I was…different, sensitive to everything, including my love for her, but I knew I didn’t understand what I was enough to be able to share a life with her, even though I was willing to try. I would’ve never severed ties with her had I not believed it to be the best decision at the time. But now I was my tribe’s Baba. Now, I was mature, brimming with understanding and knowledge of self. Now, I was more than ready to claim what was mine.
Her.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her stir and halted my footsteps. I watched her reach up and rub her forehead, heard her soft moan that made me ache inside to touch her, really touch her.
“What the fuck did I eat before I went to bed? That dream was insane,” she murmured.
“Temple,” I softly said.
She shot up in bed, eyes wild as she took in her surroundings—my bedroom. “Oh my god,” she groaned. “I’m still dreaming?” She slapped herself. “Wake up, Temple. Shit! Wake up, bitch!” she shrieked, slapping herself again.
Rushing over to her, I grabbed her hands to stop her self-assault. “Temple! Stop, love!”
Her eyes locked with mine for a moment, and I watched as they filled with tears. “Sam, I’m scared.”
My heart fell. “Of me?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Where are we?”
“Still in Bolowga…in my chambers.”
Her eyes slowly perused the room, and as grand as it was, draped in gold, I just wanted her to want to be with me. I was willing to do absolutely anything to accommodate her.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Thank you. Uh, Temple…do you…we can leave if that would make you feel better.” I had to offer, although it pained me to. It would be easier for me to say what I needed to say in the comfort of my own personal space.
She stared at me for a moment before saying, “I probably should want to leave, but I don’t. I’m confused, frightened, but I’d like to stay for some reason.”
I closed my eyes and sighed with relief. “Temple, are you hungry? Want something to eat?”
“Yes, and where’s your bathroom, Sam?”
*****
Sitting across from her at the table in my chambers, I watched her eat. Smiling, I took a sip of wine and thought about how surreal it felt to be with her again after what seemed like eons. Surreal and damn good.
Looking up from her plate at me, she stopped chewing, and said, “What?”
“You’re enjoying it?”
She nodded. “It’s delicious. You remembered how I love oxtails, huh? Is it a delicacy here, too?”
“It is today, for you.”
Sitting back in her seat, she asked, “Is this food real, or is it in my head, too?”
“Why wouldn’t it be real, love?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.
She shrugged. “Because I came out of that bathroom that’s bigger than my whole apartment, and there was a table and chairs and food here like it just appeared.”
“It was all brought to us while you were in the bathroom.”