She spotted Kafara even before the Jeep stopped and waved to him. But he had his back to her, chopping soapstone with a machete. A giant pile of rough-hewn sandstone towered over him like a pyramid. “Kafara!” He didn’t turn, just kept chopping. Around him, other boys with their rusty machetes hacked the stone. She got out, her feet bare on the dry earth. It dusted her ankles and her legs. “Kafara!” He turned then, smiling at her, his teeth white against his black face. “Miss Vonya!” The woman appeared. She always seemed to come from nowhere, although deep in Ronie’s subconscious she knew she must live in the village. She carried a burlap bag on her head, tied neatly, balanced on a coil of rope. As Kafara ran close, she dropped the burlap and let it open. A pineapple rolled out. Kafara picked it up. “You want one?” he asked Vonya. She always said yes, even though she could practically hear herself moan, No. No. Kafara held the pineapple in his hand. He chopped off the top, then the bottom.
What do You think about Mission: Out Of Control (2011)?
