The Big Machine - A tribute to Special needs' kids

 The Big Machine

A short story by Jason Dhanapalan

The owner had seen the kid clamber over the small hills of freshly dug up earth moving towards the big machine as though he was magnetically drawn towards it. He himself had been in awe of its awesome power as it tore away at the virgin soil leaving nothing but the huge rocks freshly exposed. The smell of oil and grease lingered in the air. The operator was a quiet man with a toothy smile that spread from ear to ear. As the brilliant but gentle African sun shone on his face, beads of sweat began rolling down his gaunt features. He stopped momentarily to wipe his face with a crumpled and dirty cloth that he kept folded neatly in his trouser pocket. He would lift his leg to retrieve the cloth from a pocket on the right side that seemed too small for his hands. 

After working for several years on the machine and being known as the ‘expert’ operator, one could see that his hands were calloused and seemed to have permanently abiding dirt and grease stains. His forearm skin was not dry but oily from working all day in the sun, rain and all types of weather in between. The operator always wore a hat or rather a baseball cap. He refused to begin work at this new site because the cap simply had to go. The problem was not the humans though but a huge lion-sized German shepherd dog whose ancestors hailed from Austria. The dog was friendly enough and very good with kids and his openly violent and aggressive stance towards the operator was quite unlike him. The owners and adults in the family began to wonder if they had made a mistake in getting and taking care of such a pedigree. These type of dogs were not openly known for aggression towards humans and had actually become renowned for their ability to relate to humans, protect children and their world-famous noses. They could find things with a scent from miles away. All they needed was regular training.

So, it was a surprise when the dog leaped in the air and almost got to the operator. The neighbor, who had been in the police force and was a former canine officer suggested that the operator remove his hat. He blindly refused. When other voices joined in a chorus and yelled at him, some with threats of “I’m gonna tell your boss!”, he relented and the dog subsequently calmed down. Nobody could come and go into the yard because the dog loved to sit on the cold ceramic tiles on the front porch to cool down because he was so huge. He would often hold a huge discarded brick in his mouth as he panted away like an old man with alzheimer's disease. Perhaps he was too lazy to open his mouth to cool down because any attempt to remove the brick from his mouth would be met with a deep throated growl. This was a clear message to all and sundry that his brick was off limits, including to his owner.

As soon as someone came to the gate to ask for work or perhaps to sell something, the dog would stand up and give just one or two barks. The person at the gate, upon seeing the size of the dog thought ‘nevermind, it’s not worth it’ and beat a hasty retreat. The granny from the house would often ask ‘have you seen the mailman’ or ‘where’s the lady who was selling freshly grown corn and carrots - she promised to come today’. Only the dog knew the secrets of the happenings at the front gate and he was not letting on. He always had the best view of the Indian ocean and the coolest breeze blowing up the driveway. Perhaps he was thinking of his home far away as he watched the outlines of ships sailing the ocean blue. In his mind, there seemed to be nothing but peace. Sometimes he would go into the bush and eat grass and weeds that often got stuck in between his razor sharp canines. Only the owner was brave enough to put his hand into the dogs’ abundantly salivating mouth as he tried to remove the errant weed pieces. Puffs of hot breath blew over his hand and he sometimes got a little scratch from the operation but it did not deter him because any veterinary surgeon would have to make the dog sleep first before touching it. This was a very short, easy but expensive process. So, the owner decided to do it himself.

To prevent the unknown from happening, the dog was locked in the kitchen because everyone was too busy to mind him. People were coming to visit that night and the kitchen was a hive of activity as meals were prepared and delicious aromas wafted through the air. The granny was a great cook renowned for her food cooked next to the garage over an open fire. As the logs crackled away in the makeshift fireplace, she banged on the edge of the pot and intermittently tasted the hot gravy by pouring some of it onto the middle of her palms, the granny was happy. Her wrinkled skin, slightly overgrown fingernails and moons on them could be seen. The dog could still see over the stable door in the kitchen and popped his head over the top. When the operator resumed working after his short lunch, the dog looked over the top of the door and probably wondered, ‘does he still have his cap on…’ As the granny went in and out of the house to retrieve new ingredients or grab a cup of delicious milky hot, over sweetened tea or catch up on some quick gossip or chit-chat, the dog had to be constantly pushed away from the kitchen door to the back of the kitchen so that he could not sneak out and bite the operator. The dog was friendly to all, including strangers that visited the house but he seemed to have a natural aversion to the operator. In his mind, which he seemed to have made up on day one, when the operator showed up to excavate a portion of land at the back of the house, the dog was probably thinking ‘I’m gonna bite you so much and teach you a lesson so that you will never come here again’.

The dog seemed to appreciate the changes being made to the landscape as it could now sniff out newer stuff although one didn’t need a dog’s nose for that because the smell of diesel, grease and oil lingered in the air. This coupled with the smell of black smoke that billowed out of the tail pipe that was erroneously named because it was not in the back of the big machine but stuck out in the air like a hitch hiker looking for a ride. As the machine went forwards and backwards, tearing up the soil and crawling like a huge caterpillar over embedded rocks that shone in the sun like newly exposed dinosaur eggs, black some poured out its ‘tailpipe’ with a vengeance as though it was determined to soil up the pristine air in this environment. The owner had bought this place for the express purpose of living away from the city where in the evenings just before sunset, one could see a heavy thick black brown sheet of smog cover the horizon like a stubborn wet blanket. The owner was not too worried about this temporary intrusion of pollution as he was aware that that was something he could not avoid. He consoled himself on the second day by saying , ‘it will be over tomorrow’.

As the machine continued to growl and roar, it started chewing on newer and fresher ground, the kid who lived a few blocks away stood upon the highest mound of dirt and gazed at the awesome and powerful machine working relentlessly without stopping. His jaws seemed to have lost their muscle strength as his mouth remained uncomfortably open and drool dripped down off the side of his cheeks which by now had shiny droplets of sweat glistening in the African sun. The kid should have chosen a shady vantage point from which to observe the machine at work but he did not want to be anywhere else for fear that he might miss something. He didn’t care about the sun as other kids would and continued to let it shine on his head that sported a really short military style crop of hair. The granny called out to him in her paraphrasing manner of speech “Go in shade!” but he wasn’t listening as all his attention was on the different movements of the big machine. Sometimes the operator would dig with the digger and sometimes he would level and scoop up huge amounts of dirt in the scoop at the front of the machine. When the operator stopped working and shut the machine down to refill the fuel tanks with extra fuel that he had brought in 20 gallon drums, the kid continued to observe the whole process as though everything that was happening was connected and it was.

An hour passed and the sun began to set in the West. As it dropped below the clouds and its golden glow began to lose intensity, the driver promptly announced that his working day was over. He did not have a watch and for his entire life had been telling the time based on the rising and setting of the glorious sun. The owner, with a little bit of irritation that the job was coming to an end and likely looking to take a fourth, unplanned-for extra day wondered with amazement as he looked at the kitchen clock to confirm that indeed, the day was done. He stood by the stable door and yelled out to the driver “Come early tomorrow, ok” because he did not have it in his heart to tell the operator that he was off by a few minutes because he still had to wash himself before taking the long walk home. Soap, water and a final cup of tea were provided. The driver politely accepted a homemade snack with his tea and broke out into a big grin that more clearly showed his yellow-brown teeth in a mouth stained by tobacco and missing a good few too many molars. As the operator sauntered down the driveway to exit the property, he had to think extra hard about replacing his cap on his head but not before being reminded by the dog’s low, deep growl. The machine lay prostrate like a dead jellyfish on the seashore.

The kid too, was reluctant to leave the property as if expecting the machine to suddenly roar to life again and cause the blood in his veins to pump more vigorously. The granny again, observing the kid as she was wont to observe all the happenings at the house paraphrased to the kid “Wanna eat?” The kid smiled because he understood but did not respond as he could not speak. He clambered off the mound of dirt that he had been standing on since the morning and slowly walked down the driveway. The owner was at a loss because he did not even know his name and he never bothered to ask. He remembered him standing in the sun the whole day, without going home for lunch or even to drink something, his smooth shiny skin and big round eyes. His clothes too, had been used for several days without being changed.

As the supper guests arrived one by one, they marched straight to the back of the house where the big machine was now snoring in the twilight. It had been driven to produce results and it had not disappointed. It was a pretty picture because the sun had not settled completely. Its silhouette and yellow color could still be seen. The porch lights were turned on for the guests were going to sit outside and eat. The table was set and the food was brought out in sequence. All women present wanted to carry out one of the bowls of food and salads and desserts and there was no shortage of things to carry or eat. The smell of freshly torn up grass, weeds and soil still lingered in the air. One of the female guests commented, also in her paraphrasing style “Y’all building now? This was more of a statement than a question. “Yes,” said the owner, “They finishing tomorrow”.