This is the first chapter of sugar rush in the infantry stage MARK 2.
There is much to be learned in the infantry stage. The first is to move ahead at a lively pace. Never pause, never allow the thicket, not matter how heavy, to trip you up. That is the first principle. Learn it well and stay ahead. The banana plantation shouldn't be an issue. The sugar plantation gets a bit sticky. You need to keep on going no matter what.
Suddenly his face appeared. It was Sammy, eyes abeam behind the yellowed stips of dried-out leaf material. He said we shouldn't tell each other's names, but I will tell you anyway. He smiled at me. Oh, how he smiled. I hadn't seen such a face so ripe for life in almost three weeks.
We locked arms together and we clambered on ahead. I told him not to worry. Not too long to go now. Just beyond that hill.
Sugar was Sammy's indulgence and best for him to avoid. He got all excitable. His fingers trembled and his eyes flashed on an off. It was a sight. It filled me with pleasure for him. I have to say we made our way with gusto after that. The sugar cane.
He was still in the infantry stage at this point. He had a lot to learn. The shadows for instance -- which ones to avoid and which were safe to jump straight into. I said he shouldn't take these difficulties too much to heart. He'd learn them over time.
We were on our way to meet the other team and we had not that long to go. It's getting tiresome. Grass scrapes all along our knuckles. I should rue the day I ever set out on this journey. Rue the day.
And it was noisy -- noisy as hell. But the noise was inside our heads, like a leapard chewing a giant bone, over and over. Crackle, crackle, keer...ack. At first I couldn't tell where the loud noise was coming from, but then I realized it was right inside my head.
That was the first week of the infantry stage. I'm glad to say that Sam and I both passed all aspects of the course with flying colors. They said the second week would get easier and after that much easier still. I couldn't wait. Left right left right -- but we couldn't say where we were. We'd have to hush down, keep our heads low for a while. Strangers were passing. They made a strange whistle. I couldn't stand that whistle. What was it?
I wanted to get closer. I could see their movements, very coy and gingerly. They moved in single file. "It's nothing," I told Sam. Just the humans passing through their regular route.
They leave nothing but old drink bottles behind, because in many ways they are nothing. They take up little space, but it is all the space we have, because they move around so much and never leave us in peace. They're gentle ghosts so long as they don't get inside our heads.
We continued in our infantry stage and we were getting stronger. There was no fooling around. We became courageous. It was time to go in for the kill. But first it was nightfall.
***
'
There is much to be learned in the infantry stage. The first is to move ahead at a lively pace. Never pause, never allow the thicket, not matter how heavy, to trip you up. That is the first principle. Learn it well and stay ahead. The banana plantation shouldn't be an issue. The sugar plantation gets a bit sticky. You need to keep on going no matter what.
Suddenly his face appeared. It was Sammy, eyes abeam behind the yellowed stips of dried-out leaf material. He said we shouldn't tell each other's names, but I will tell you anyway. He smiled at me. Oh, how he smiled. I hadn't seen such a face so ripe for life in almost three weeks.
We locked arms together and we clambered on ahead. I told him not to worry. Not too long to go now. Just beyond that hill.
Sugar was Sammy's indulgence and best for him to avoid. He got all excitable. His fingers trembled and his eyes flashed on an off. It was a sight. It filled me with pleasure for him. I have to say we made our way with gusto after that. The sugar cane.
He was still in the infantry stage at this point. He had a lot to learn. The shadows for instance -- which ones to avoid and which were safe to jump straight into. I said he shouldn't take these difficulties too much to heart. He'd learn them over time.
We were on our way to meet the other team and we had not that long to go. It's getting tiresome. Grass scrapes all along our knuckles. I should rue the day I ever set out on this journey. Rue the day.
And it was noisy -- noisy as hell. But the noise was inside our heads, like a leapard chewing a giant bone, over and over. Crackle, crackle, keer...ack. At first I couldn't tell where the loud noise was coming from, but then I realized it was right inside my head.
That was the first week of the infantry stage. I'm glad to say that Sam and I both passed all aspects of the course with flying colors. They said the second week would get easier and after that much easier still. I couldn't wait. Left right left right -- but we couldn't say where we were. We'd have to hush down, keep our heads low for a while. Strangers were passing. They made a strange whistle. I couldn't stand that whistle. What was it?
I wanted to get closer. I could see their movements, very coy and gingerly. They moved in single file. "It's nothing," I told Sam. Just the humans passing through their regular route.
They leave nothing but old drink bottles behind, because in many ways they are nothing. They take up little space, but it is all the space we have, because they move around so much and never leave us in peace. They're gentle ghosts so long as they don't get inside our heads.
We continued in our infantry stage and we were getting stronger. There was no fooling around. We became courageous. It was time to go in for the kill. But first it was nightfall.
***
'
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