Under the African Sky

The water bounced off Krishna’s head and gurgled down a drain in the floor. Krishna closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. Suddenly the gurgling stopped. Krishna swung around to see why. He nearly screamed as he saw a long gray trunk reaching from behind the wall. The trunk was sucking the water like a straw. Before Krishna could say anything, the elephant’s face came around the wall. “Hi!” it said. Krishna looked at the elephant, speechless. “Hi,” said the elephant again. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard the water and could not resist getting a drink.” “You can talk?” said Krishna, more confused than scared. “I can talk, but not everyone can understand me,” said the elephant. “I am glad you can.” “Do you live here?” asked Krishna. “Yes, I am with a herd not far from here. We often stop here for water,” said the elephant. “My name is Broken Tusk.” “What?” said Krishna, still surprised that he was talking to a wild animal. “Broken Tusk,” repeated the elephant and pointed with his trunk to his left tusk. “See, it’s broken.” “Oh,” said Krishna. “My name is Kris.” “Kris?” asked Broken Tusk. “Well, actually it’s Krishna,” replied Krishna. “It’s the name of a Hindu god.” “A Hindu god! Does he look like you?” the elephant asked. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard that his skin is dark as a raincloud, he wears a crown with a peacock feather in it. And he plays the flute,” Krishna blurted out in one breath. “And he is a cow-herd.” “Ah! He likes animals,” observed the elephant. “Do you like animals?” “I think so,” said Krishna, not sure how to answer the question since he didn’t even have a pet. “Dark as a rain cloud…” said Broken Tusk softly. “A rain cloud,” he repeated. Then, looking at Krishna, Broken Tusk said, “A rain cloud is a beautiful thing.”