by Karen Prince
Tariro threw him a dubious look.
“Tariro, as weird as this sounds, that is what I saw. That leopard attacked him and he changed.” Ethan pointed in the direction of the leopard, who lounged over the branch, smoothing and grooming its fur. “There is definitely something not right with that leopard,” he added, taking a breath and blowing once more into the woman’s mouth.
Tariro peered at it. “Just looks like a leopard to me.”
“It has an expression on its face,” panted Ethan, “and it definitely attacked her. Look at her, she’s covered in scratches.” The old woman's injuries, although not that serious, included several bites. Ethan wished she would wake up and tell him what had happened.
Tariro frowned at him for a moment. “Yes, I can see she was attacked, but that does not make her Joe.”
Without warning, the woman shot out a stream of vomit, sending bits of mango, brackish water and other vile things flying up at Ethan.
“Eugh!” He backed away, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as a wave of nausea washed over him. He spun away and heaved his breakfast onto the ground, glancing at Tariro as he came up for air.
Just for a moment, Tariro had the ill grace to look pleased before he leaned over the woman, rolled her on to her side and shook her gently. “Where’s Joe?” he asked in English, then again in a tongue-clicking language Ethan did not recognise. Then he asked her in the singsong-sounding Shona.
She just lay there coughing, but at least she was alive.
~~~
On the off chance that Joe was not somehow entwined with the old woman, Ethan decided to leave her with Tariro and search downstream to see if he had washed up near the rapids. He pulled his T-shirt over his head as he went, and tried to wipe as much of the vomit off himself as he could, almost vomiting again when he smelled it. A quick scan of the area showed Jimoh and the hunters, still diving under the water in the middle of the pool, but then Ethan froze. He rubbed his eyes.
The small girl from the rapids meandered towards him in no particular hurry, stalked by two enormous crocodiles. Ethan could hardly bear to look. She would surely die. They were almost on top of her.
“Go and help her!” he yelled at a boy who was closer to her than he was.
“Those crocs, they for that girl,” the boy said casually, not rushing towards her.
Ethan could not believe it. Had the sonic boom somehow unbalanced everybody? Stupid backwoods kids. He would have to rescue her himself.
He sprinted towards her, streaking right past the treed leopard, withdrawing his knife as he went. He wished he had a machete but the machete guys were in the pool. Instead, he waved his T-shirt ineffectually at the crocodiles.
“Shoo!” he shouted, sweeping the surprised girl up onto his back and making a dash for it, expecting to be pounced on at any moment. One birthday, to encourage him to find something in common with his cousins, his mom had bought him a bush survival manual. In it, he’d read that crocodiles move unbelievably quickly, even on land. If he had known he would actually need the information he’d have paid more attention.
When he turned around to look, the crocodiles had flopped down onto the mud. They lay there eyeing him lazily, as if he had imagined the whole thing. No one else had made any move to help him in his daring rescue either. Some of the village kids shook their heads, astonished. Ethan started to feel as if he were in some sort of parallel world, where nothing made sense. He staggered over to the group surrounding the old woman and put the child down where she elbowed her way into the circle of spectators waiting for the old woman to revive.
Some of the kids leaped up suddenly, squealing and scrambling to their feet to scatter into the nearby bushes. Ethan looked up to see the leopard prowling towards him, its powerful muscles rippling under the sheen of its newly groomed coat. He thought he saw Tariro shift into position behind the old woman. Was he shielding himself, Ethan wondered, or was he just propping her up?
Ethan found himself getting angrier and angrier. Nobody else seemed to want to help. It was too late to run; the leopard was within springing distance. Heart racing, he groped on the ground beside him for his abandoned T-shirt, which he slowly wound around his left wrist, his knife already in his right hand. He crouched down into the fighting stance he had learned in Taekwando. Not that his patchy training in the martial art would be much help against a wild animal, but as long as there was any risk that the old woman could be his cousin Joe, he was not going to give up without a fight.
~~~
“You are a brave boy.” The leopard’s communication filled Ethan’s head. “Now stand aside. I must see to the witch.”
Ethan’s legs went numb with fear. He whipped his head around to see if anyone else had heard the leopard speak. Not that it spoke, exactly. It emitted more of a faint spike of adrenalin that passed through his brain, with an icy edge to it, and then he knew what it meant. Everyone else looked blank.
Struggling to stand his ground, he said, “No! Back off!” and then for good measure, “Bad kitty! Sit!”
The leopard sat, as told, regarding him thoughtfully.
“I will not harm you,” it said. “I need to help the witch. I will need you to do something for me.”
“How do I know you are not lying?” Ethan said. Have I gone completely mad? I am talking to an animal.
Tariro’s head turned from side to side, his eyes darting from friend to friend, as if hoping one of them held the answer to Ethan’s strange behavior.
“Yussy!” Ethan said. “Am I the only one who can hear the leopard?”
“You must find the amulet,” the leopard said, ignoring everyone’s confusion. “I fear she has dropped it in the water.”
“Are you out of your mind? I’m not going near that water.” Ethan’s eyes darted from Jimoh’s group, who had climbed out of the water, and were resting on the other side of the pool, to the spot where the crocodiles had been. One was basking in the sun, but sure enough, the other was missing. Most probably in this very pool, he thought.
The leopard stood up and moved closer towards him in a menacing way. Its face, as it stared at Ethan, had a very un-leopard-like expression on it. Its jaw jutted out, and a single muscle twitched below its eye.
Ethan backed off. He was shaking but he knew he needed to sound as strong as he could. He knew if animals sense fear, they pounce. “Where’s my cousin? Where’s Joe?” He was trying to buy time till he could think what to do. It sounded absurd as he said it. Even if the cat really was talking to him, how would it know where Joe was?
“You cannot reach this Joe for now,” it said, starting to show impatience. “Only the witch can find him, but she will need the amulet to recover. The amulet is in the water.”
They both looked towards the witch who slumped against Tariro, breathing erratically. Ethan wondered if he could get Tariro to go back into the pool and fetch this amulet, whatever it was. Aside from the crocodile, he was worried about the teaming throngs of parasites that lurk there. He shuddered, imagining microscopic creatures worming their way into every nook and cranny of his body.
“Why can’t he do it?” Ethan said, pointing at Tariro, who was after all just as close, and had already exposed himself to the parasite-infested water by jumping off the ledge.
“He does not believe,” the leopard said. “And look at him, he looks as if he has seen a demon.”
Ethan looked hopefully in the direction of Jimoh.
“You are the one who kissed the witch. Only you can do this thing,” the leopard said, following Ethan’s train of thought. He didn’t know if it could tell from the expression on his face or if it was actually reading his mind. It sat down and lifted a paw, inspected its claws pointedly, and glowered at him.
“It’s too deep... I can’t swim,” Ethan tried.
“Then you will drown trying,” the cat said, retracting its claws and stepping closer in a fluid move, “because the witch can wait no longer.”
Time stood still for Ethan as the leopard’s
bright yellow eyes narrowed at him threateningly, less than a foot away from his face, betraying the internal battle raging within it. It was odd how Ethan was so easily preoccupied by it. It smelled mildly rank, like a wet puppy. Pure white whiskers grew out of either side of its face in sharp contrast to its perfectly symmetrical black rosette markings. Its dark golden fur looked so soft, Ethan had to control an impulse to reach out and touch the animal. Then he recoiled in confusion as a muscle tensed and relaxed across its powerful jaw. It did not blink. Sjoe! What was he thinking? He had never voluntarily touched an animal in his life before. An impatient talking leopard was not the place to start.
“Okay, what does this amulet look like?” He let out a long shuddering breath.
“It will shine,” the cat said smoothly, all business now that it had won the stand off. “Do not touch the stones. Lift it only by the cord that connects them.”
~~~
Ethan turned towards the water and forced himself to walk slowly to the edge. Whether his pounding heart drew the crocodile towards him, or the beast smelled his fear and came for him, one way or another he was convinced it was going to get him. Trying not to splash, he waded cautiously into the water, but it wasn’t any use. His muscles twitched spasmodically, as if they had a life of their own.
Once the rippling water reached up to his shoulders he held his breath and dipped his face into it. His eyes shot open spontaneously. I’ll probably go blind, he almost sobbed. At least the pool was crystal clear. He could see right to the other side where Jimoh’s group sat dangling their feet in the water. Revolving slowly to get his bearings he looked out for the crocodile. He thought he could see it about thirty meters downstream with its back to him, so he swam cautiously towards the spot where the old witch had entered the water, and floated on the surface for a moment with his face submerged, scanning for the amulet.
He would have been able to see the amulet quite clearly even if it did not give off that eerie glow. It was in amongst the pebbles about six meters below him. An orangey stone lay on one end of a string connecting it to a strange dark stone on the other end. Its dim light pulsated so slowly that it looked as if time had slowed down. He was about to dive down towards it when a movement on the edge of his field of vision caused Ethan to whip around.
His scream turned into a gurgle as something huge and gnarly clamped down on his foot and spun him round and round, dragging him towards the bottom of the pool. Trying to curl up into a tight ball and go with the spin before the crocodile ripped his leg off, he opened his eyes but he couldn’t see anything with the water bubbling around him. He doubled over and groped between his legs for an eyeball to poke his finger into. Feeling his way down the creature’s nose, Ethan frantically moved his fingers backward towards the eyes and was about to dig his thumbs hard in to each squishy eyeball when his shoulder crashed painfully into the bottom of the pool and the crocodile let go abruptly, scattering sand and pebbles.
Ethan shook his head in slow motion as he righted himself. Perhaps he was just dizzy, but he could have sworn the amulet drifted purposefully towards him. Trying to ignore his burning lungs, he reached out and snatched it up, taking no care at all to avoid touching the stones. Energy rushed up Ethan’s arm as he gripped it, sending waves of prickly heat reverberating through his body. About to push off from the bottom of the pool, he looked up towards the surface, and froze. The shadow of the crocodile circled slowly above him, choosing its moment...
It would be seconds before he ran out of breath. His chest was burning, a deafening drumming in his ears. If only he could make it to where he could see Jimoh’s feet dangling in the water. They would help him out of the water, only, his arms and legs wouldn’t move. He didn’t seem to have the strength to propel himself towards them. He felt a massive surge of water pushing him along as he passed out.
6
A Peculiar Forest
Joe woke up disoriented. His mind hovered for a few moments on the edge of reality. He was not sure if he had drowned or hit his head on the bottom of the pool. Strangely, he didn’t even feel wet. He wondered if that was because he had been lying here long enough to dry out.
The forest canopy above his head wafted in and out of focus; the gigantic trees, nothing like the ones at Crystal Pools, were such an impossibly dark shade of green they were almost black. He blinked a couple of times, thinking there must be something wrong with his eyesight, but stopped, because that made him dizzy. He guessed Tariro had gone for help but he wondered where everyone else had got to. Someone was beating a drum. Just what he needed. His head wanted to explode.
Trying to roll over, he felt dread rising as he discovered that he could not move his arms or legs. He must have broken his neck! When he opened his mouth to howl in anguish, all that came out was a weak cough.
Turning his head to the side slowly and painfully, but with the relief of realising his neck wasn’t broken after all, he squinted in the direction of the noise to see who was beating the drums, and swore he could see not just one, but a whole troop of Tokoloshes.
Am I hallucinating? He had heard the fairy stories about the hairy little men that lived in crevices and under riverbanks. They were supposed to be visible only to children. And I’m not a child, he thought.
One or two of the little creatures yelped as he moved, and bolted in fright towards the edges of the clearing, their scrappy animal-pelt skirts flapping around their knees. A few braver ones crept forward to take a look at him or touch him before running away again in a sort of delighted panic. Closing his eyes wearily, he wondered if the reason he couldn’t move his arms and legs was because they had tied him up, and then he passed out again.
The second time Joe awoke, he was startled to find a Tokoloshe face swimming in front of his eyes. Yes, it was definitely a Tokoloshe. The little man perching on his chest gripped Joe’s cheeks in both his hands and stared intently with his little jet black eyes into Joe’s eyes. The long, spiky hairs growing out of his ears twitched while he and Joe considered each other. Joe noticed that, close up, the Tokoloshe had longish, bristly, clay red-coloured hair all over his body, but he looked closer to a gnome than any sort of an ape. He shifted a primitive-looking bow from one shoulder to another and reached down to a second Tokoloshe for a gourd, which he pressed to Joe’s lips.
“Drink,” he commanded. Joe had taken a swallow even before he got over his astonishment that he had understood the fellow. The soothing liquid slid down his throat more like cool oil than water. It had no taste but it gave off a smell of pears.
“Where am I?” he croaked, more to himself than to the creature. “How come I can’t feel my legs?” The Tokoloshe turned and signalled to someone over his shoulder. Joe shrieked in agony, sitting up abruptly, clutching at his shin, and almost toppling the Tokoloshe from his chest. One of them had stabbed him in the leg with a spear or something.
The Tokoloshe – now dangling from Joe’s neck – jumped down and squinted up at him looking a little embarrassed. “’Sokay now,” he lisped.
The sudden movement was too much for Joe. He felt dizzy, and terribly sleepy. He lay back on the ground. At least he could feel his legs again, however weakly. His eyes grew heavy and he felt himself drifting back into unconsciousness.
The Tokoloshe shook Joe’s cheeks uneasily. “Stay awake!” he cried. “We need to move you to a safer place.”
Joe fought hard to keep his eyes open. What did the Tokoloshe mean? And were the Tokoloshes themselves safe to be with? He drifted back to sleep.
~~~
It was late afternoon by the time Joe woke again. There was no sign of the Tokoloshe. Instead, a huge tiger lounged on its back amongst the dappled shadows of the forest, a stone’s throw away. Its giant paws dangled limp-wristed in the air like a playful puppy. Its mouth was closed and it blew through its nostrils, alternately producing a breathy snort and a thunderous purr that rumbled up through its chest and resounded through the jungle.
Joe groaned softly. This must b
e what the Tokoloshe meant about getting him to a safe place. There was no way he was going to survive this... Or would he? Surely if the tiger were going to eat him, it would have done so while he was unconscious, unless it liked to play with its food. Joe did not know all that much about tigers. What the hell had happened? Perhaps he was already dead, and it would just go away. Yes... Yes, he was probably dead. Being dead was the only way he could make any sense of the situation.
The tiger pounced so suddenly and so smoothly he could hardly follow its movement. One moment it had been scratching idly at its light furry underbelly and the next it had closed the distance between them and was all reddish orange fur and dark vertical stripes, one huge padded paw resting gently on Joe’s chest. A small shift in the cat’s weight would crush him, he realised.
“I know you are awake,” it said, gently nudging him on the shoulder, its face an inch from his. Joe recoiled, shaking. Was he in a dream? He thought those trees were too dark. Was he in India? How the hell had that happened? He watched the muscles in the tiger’s face tense and relax while it scrutinised him close up. The tip of its tongue, the texture of sandpaper, licked his face, leaving a light graze.
“Mmm...” it murmured enigmatically. Joe shot it a terrified look, but it merely sat back and watched him.
“I am Hajiri,” it purred eventually. “I’m glad you came. I was looking for someone to light me a fire. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
It had spoken to him! He hadn’t seen its lips move, yet he had heard it quite clearly.
“Where are those Tokoloshe?” Joe asked. He struggled to sit up, surreptitiously edging away from the tiger. He’d felt a lot safer with the Tokoloshe, and not only because they had given him water, although that may have been a trick. He’d heard they were tricky, and he had felt extremely sleepy afterwards.
“Oh, the Tokoloshe?” Hajiri purred, waving a paw in the general direction of the forest. “I chased them away. Pesky creatures. All one wants at the end of a long day is a nice fire and good company, not that lot of vandals with their noisy drums.”