The Mandela Effect

Ch 8

 Jon was concerned about being late, but he shouldn't have been. On those intra-country flights, the airline wanted every seat filled, even if it meant departing a little late.

It took him longer than he thought to get up to his room, pack a small bag, and get out of the hotel. It also took longer to get back to the airport than it had to get from it. But, when he came rushing up to the gate, he found the staff waiting for him there. He wondered briefly if Mark; with his white, American name; would have gotten the same treatment; but Jon didn't dwell. He quickly boarded the plane.

Compared to the pair of flights from Chicago, the flight from Johannesburg to East London was a dream. The plane barely attains 'cruising altitude' before descending back into an approach for arrival. Within 90 minutes, Jon is walking out of the airport in East London.

He finds a few taxi drivers outside. Several aren't willing to take him the distance he needed to go. After finding a couple who were, he sets about negotiating a price. Jon had been gone a long time, but he remembers how things work. South Africa, especially East London, was not London, New York, or Chicago: everything can be negotiated.

Finally, finding a driver and agreeing on a price, he sets out for his family's homestead outside of Bisho. The entire ride, Jon can't take his eyes off the world outside his window. It had been so long; he'd forgotten how beautiful South Africa was. Sure, there was poverty, especially visible in East London, but as the city gave way to the highway and the countryside; Jon is reminded of all the things he missed about his homeland.

Eventually, signs began appearing for Bisho. Jon knows he is getting close. Out of the left side of the car, he sees the small city pass by as the taxi bypasses the city and heads back out into the countryside.

As he gets closer, the memories get stronger. He sees turns coming before the taxi makes the turn: a right at this crossroad, a left at the ancient Umsenge wehlathi tree. The freshly paved highway gives way to the recently paved secondary roads, and then the once paved tertiary roads. Before long, they have left the pavement all together and travel on a mix of gravel and dirt paths.

Finally, off in the distance, he sees a small group of buildings around a great umThombe tree. He knows immediately that he is home.

The car takes a winding route that seemed, at times, like it would never reach the tree. Eventually, the tree grows tall and the taxi eventually pulls under its leafy canopy, between several buildings and stopps. Jon steps out, grabbing his bag, pys the driver the balance he owes including a large tip, and thanks him for the smooth drive. Then, he looks around for someone to direct him. As he rounds the corner of one building, Jon sees that a great table had been constructed.

Moreover, a huge crowd of people is gathered. He recognizes some faces from Facebook, but still others are familiar for different reasons. They are like ghosts; ancient memories being brought back to the surface. His mind tries to peel back the wrinkles and gray hair to find that person he remembers from his childhood.

The crowd, turned in his direction, seems to have a palpable excitement running through it. Immediately, the sights, sounds, and smells assault his system. It is almost overwhelming. A lifetime of memories come flooding back, crystalline in their clarity, in an instant. Jon takes a deep breath as the crowd approached.

He is home.