Magical tinkling of a tin wind chime is heard.

We now move to the wells on the outskirts of town.

The cut out of the baobab tree is placed near one of the downstage floor lights, casting an enlarged shadow version of itself onto the front gauze screen.

NOMVULA enters, taking in the alien surroundings. She lays a grass mat at the base of the shadow tree.

NARRATOR: Nomvula was banished to sleep beneath the great baobab. During the day she would work at the wells. At first light she would rise, to lower bucket after bucket into the endless hole. Sometimes, when leaning over the well, she would hear her heartbeat echoing back at her …

NOMVULA lowers an imaginary rope into a tin bucket placed at the edge of the stage. She stops and leans in, listening intently. Her heartbeat pounds (three times) and echoes in the well.

NARRATOR: … giving her strength to face each day.

The NARRATOR places a branch across her shoulders. It has tin buckets dangling from either side like a yoke. She starts to pace wearily back and forth on the same spot. The water in the buckets weighs heavily on her little shoulders. Music accompanies her journey.

NARRATOR: Then she would begin the long walk into Tin Town, delivering water rations to the people's doorsteps. On these days the town had nothing better to do than line the streets and laugh at her. The children from school, pointing and pulling faces. Back and forth … back and forth … back and forth … days passed … weeks … months … back and forth … back and forth. One day, while she was out on the road, she cried out to the sun for help.

NARRATOR as NOMVULA [gazing up to the heavens]: Please, sun, help me by making your days shorter, your shade longer, your light softer.

NARRATOR: But the sun only frowned more angrily upon her.

NOMVULA: Then please, road, guide me away from this town. Take me to a place where my heart may beat freely again.