Nadia Knox and the Eye of Zinnia

by Jessica McDougle

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Mr. Haynes said. All that time he’d been distracted by his dictionary. “What tribe are we looking for now?”

  “The Maji, dear,” Mrs. Haynes said.

  “This is incredible!” my mom said, ecstatic. She turned to my dad. “We’ve found them. We’ll win!”

  Uru made a face of plain disgust. “Win? What do you have to win?”

  Mrs. Haynes adjusted her scarf and said, "We are hoping to get a FISH award. It stands for Finding Inaccuracies in Science and History. Your tribe has been classified as extinct in our history books for some time now, and we want to prove to the world that you still exist and are in fact thriving on your own. If we can show that, then we have a chance at winning this award."

  Uru looked at her like she was a mosquito on her arm. “You mean you are willing to destroy a people’s entire way of life, just for an award?”

  “No, no, it’s so much more than that,” my mom said. “Your people will be studied, and books written about you.”

  “Don’t forget about the documentary. Everyone is going to see it,” Teddy interrupted.

  “So you’re going to expose them?” Bantu said, looking confused. “I understood that you needed to do a documentary, but you never said anything about bringing others into the area .”

  Glaring at Bantu Uru spat out, "What did you expect them to do once you lead them here? Did you really think that it would stop at them just seeing that the Maji exist and they would go home?"

  Dropping his head in shame, Bantu stood silently taking a chastising that he didn't deserve.

  Mr. Haynes said, "No, it's not as bad as it sounds. The people that would come here are highly professional and would not disturb anything that they felt would be detrimental to your tribe's well-being."

  "Wouldn't disturb anything that they felt would be detrimental?" Uru sneered. "And of what authority are they to determine what should and should not be disturbed? You have no idea what havoc you would cause, the lives you would endanger."

  As my parents stood with Uru begging her to see the good in what they were doing, Bantu stood silently shamed. I could see the hurt all over his face. "No one said anything more than you wanted to find the tribe and shoot a documentary. That's what I agreed to. You said nothing about bringing in more people and showing them to the world." He said quietly.

  "Hey, Bantu, it's not as bad as it sounds," my dad said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

  "Clearly it must be if you felt that you couldn't be completely honest with me," Bantu said, pushing my dad's hand off of him.

  “It’s not just for personal gain,” my mom said, adjusting her purple glasses. “The world will benefit from the foundation studying your people.”

  Uru said, "The world? How is it that you people can do something to benefit the world when it's your people who are responsible for the condition the world is in now? Your technology and pollution and greed have put a terrible strain on Mother Earth. To bring them here to take from our land to give to their own is robbery. The damage will be on your hands."

  As Uru stood there with a stony face, I felt I had to defend my mom. I didn’t like her being attacked like that, even if I felt like what she was doing was wrong. She was still my mom.

  But before I could speak up, Mrs. Haynes stepped in. “Take a second and hear us out. Our foundation doesn’t want to do anything drastic. They want to study your people. To show the world that with all of its changes your tribe has stood the test of times and are thriving.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, Uru shook her head. "And you don't care about the damage that you're going to do to my people."

  "We're not trying to do any damage," Mrs. Haynes said, clearly getting frustrated. "This could bring a new type of protection to your tribe. We could have your land turned into a protected national park, making sure that it always remains the way it is now."

  “A new kind of protection? There is no kind of protection that your foundation can offer that would protect us from the forces we’re up against. You’re going to help yourselves and leave my people unprotected,” Uru said, pointing a long finger at my mother.

  "Of course we would protect you if you let us," my dad said.

  "You can't protect us; you will only destroy us," Uru spat back.

  Throwing her hands up in frustration, Mrs. Haynes walked away.

  I could feel the tension growing, and it was making me nervous. Butterflies were swarming in my stomach, threatening to come out of my mouth. I looked to Bantu for help, but he seemed to be dealing with his own problems. He looked confused as he watched both sides go back and forth.

  “Uru, please listen,” my mother pleaded. “We aren’t trying to hurt anyone.”

  Uru turned toward my mother, her eyes softening. "If your people come into our land they will desecrate it. Being outsiders, you will disrupt the enchantment that was placed over the land to keep us safe. You will leave our children unable to protect themselves."

  “What do you mean? Protect them from whom?” Mrs. Haynes asked, walking back over to Uru.

  "When my people first came to this land we were being hunted by the Guardian Souls. Kwame, my brother and High Priest of the Kamju, sent them after us. They imprinted on our bloodline. All Kamju are connected by the same bloodline."

  “Yes, yes, that’s right,” my mom said, nodding.

  “It is a trait we develop from birth, and we are forever linked to the Kamju tribe. When we left, that link was broken. Our blood was cursed and tainted, we are seen as outsiders, and it is by our blood that we are hunted by the Guardian Souls.”

  “How is it that you’ve remained invisible to them all this time?” My mom asked.

  “I am a protector, with the ability to protect those who are vulnerable. I placed an enchantment on our land. It serves as a cloak, leaving the Guardian Souls unable detect us.”

  As I listened to Uru, I wondered if Bantu knew this. Trying not to be obvious, I tried to take a quick glance at Bantu's face, but his head was down. Looking at his sagging shoulders, I felt awful. This was clearly a bad way for him to find out about the size of what my parents were doing. I probably should have told him. Part of me knew he didn't understand, but I probably also would have been too chicken to try. I wouldn't have known where to start, anyway. Now Bantu had found out in a way that made him either look like an idiot or a traitor. I hoped he didn't hate me, even though I kind of hated myself.

  "Will you take us to see the Maji?" Bantu asked quietly.

  "Yes," Uru said. "It is important for you to see our people, to see what you would be destroying. To look at the faces of the children you would be leaving unprotected for these strangers' benefit.” Her face was solemn. “I will show you the way. We will meet at the river at dawn. It is a long journey, so we must start at first light."

  Chapter Nine

  As we headed back to camp, the looks on everyone's faces made it feel like we had just lost the world series. I trailed behind everyone else, trying to make sense of everything I had just heard. Enchantments? Protectors? It was all surreal, and nothing was simple anymore.

  The worst part was that none of it seemed to change my parents' minds. They were convinced that they could make Uru see that what the foundation wanted to do would be good for them all. Every time I thought about what Uru said, I couldn't help but see tiny little children running through the wilderness with a Guardian Soul on their heels. It made me feel sick to even be a part of it. There was no way I could let my parents go through with revealing this tribe to the foundation. I couldn't live with myself if I did.

  Picking up the pace, I tried to catch up with Bantu. He was only a few feet ahead of me, but his steps were long, making it hard to keep pace with him. Trailing behind him, I whispered his name, hoping no one else could hear me. I waited for a second to see if anyone turned around. When everyone kept walking, I whispered again, "Bantu."

  Shortening his steps, he turned around with sadness in his eyes. I lo
oked at his face. Another wave of shame washed over me. I opened my mouth, but my voice caught in my throat.

  “Yes, Nadia?” Bantu said softly.

  I tried again, clearing my throat . "I—I wanted to say I was sorry."

  Looking a little puzzled, Bantu answered, “What for? You have done nothing wrong.”

  “No, I did. I knew what my parents were trying to do by finding this tribe, and I didn’t say anything. I’m so sorry.”

  Looking at me with a sad smile, Bantu shook his head. “You have no reason to feel sorry. It is not your place to tell me what is going on. You are not an adult. Your parents should have told me everything, but I am not upset.”

  “You’re not?” I said. “How come?”

  “Because I, too, have been hiding something,” Bantu answered, looking down at his feet. “I have put everyone in danger. I have not been honest with you all.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “I am the reason the Guardian Souls have been following us. It’s me that they want.”

  “What do you mean? What do they want with you?” I asked.

  "I was a Kamju by blood, but I am now considered a traitor."

  "But you were just a little kid. You couldn't be a traitor."

  “It doesn’t matter,” Bantu said.

  “I left my people, and my link is broken. The Guardian Souls know no difference between child and adult. They only know traitor.”

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. We really had been in danger. Bantu had put everyone in danger and didn't even feel the need to tell us what was really happening. How could he do it? I could feel my anger rising, suffocating the butterflies that had been flapping around earlier.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said. “You could have gotten all of us killed.”

  Looking down at me, Bantu said, “What I did is not unlike what you and your family have done. We seem to be two sides of the same coin.”

  I took a second to think about what Bantu had said. He was right—I was no better than he was. My lie was just as bad. Feeling ashamed, I dragged the toe of my boots as I walked.

  “It is alright, Nadia, don’t feel sad. We all kept our secrets because we thought we would be helping the other by not telling. Sometimes we do the wrong thing to protect the people we care about.”

  “That still doesn’t make it right,” I said.

  Nodding, Bantu walked in silence. Feeling the need to explain myself more, I kept going.

  "My parents didn't tell me everything in the beginning. They only told me about the finding the tribe and bringing the others in, when we were on our way to Uganda. They tried to pass off the lame "It'll help everyone" excuse to make it sound better, I know that doesn't make it any better. After listening to Uru, it makes it worse. What are you going to do now?" I said.

  "I'm going to hold up my end of the bargain and help your parents finish their assignment. I can only hope that they change their minds about exposing the Maji. I'm glad to know this is a fight I don't have to fight alone."

  Chapter Ten

  That night there was so much excitement around me about what had happened throughout the day that I hadn’t given a second thought to the Guardian Soul until we were all zipped up in our tent discussing and planning the next day’s events.

  As the adults talked and Chris, Teddy, and Charlotte played cards, I began to hear footsteps outside of the tent. This time everyone stopped what they were doing and listened. Along with the footsteps, I heard a man's voice singing a song. His cold voice sent a chill wind through the tent, shaking the ground we were sitting on.

  “Bantu,” I whispered, “what’s he saying?” Before Bantu could answer, the Eye of Zinnia began to glow as it dangled from my neck, and the Guardian Soul’s words became clear. “He’s singing about war,” I whispered.

  "It is a song that is sung by warriors. It is used to intimidate the enemy," Bantu said.

  As the voice kept singing, the footsteps got closer, until we could hear them walking around the tent. The footsteps circled the tent five times and stopped. Everything got quiet. Then all of a sudden the tent began to shake violently, and the winds began to scream. Peeking out of the flap, I could see his short braid flapping in the wind as he whipped his large head back and forth. With his muscular arms raised in the air, loud claps of thunder sounded through the night. We were terrified. The tent was shaking, and all of our belongings were being tossed around. It was like the tent had been picked up and placed in the middle of a tsunami. With every step he took, the ground shook harder. Then all of a sudden everything went black. The lanterns were snuffed out, and our campfire outside the tent was just a pile of smoking coals.

  Fumbling through his bag, Mr. Haynes whispered, "I've got my flashlight." He flicked the switch back and forth. Nothing happened. "I seem to be out of batteries, does anyone have any extra?"

  “Never mind dear, mine works.” Mrs. Haynes said flicking her flashlight on. Peeking out of the tent, Mrs. Haynes gasped. “What is that thing?” Closing the tent flap and turning to me, she asked, “Was that what you saw?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh my goodness, we have to get away from that thing, we have to get out of here!”

  "We mustn’t try to leave. Who knows what he’s capable of?” Bantu said.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Mrs. Haynes hissed.

  “Not exactly,” Bantu admitted. “I haven’t seen one since I was a small child. I’m not sure what they could do.”

  “Bantu, can’t you do something?” I asked.

  "Yes. Something can be done, but I will not be the one to do it," Bantu said, looking at me.

  “What do you mean?” my mom asked, confused.

  “Nadia will be the one to do it.”

  "Nadia?" Everyone said it at the same time like they were casting votes for Least Likely to Succeed.

  “What is she going to do?” Teddy said.

  "You will see. Give her time," Bantu said.

  “But we don’t have time,” Charlotte said. “That thing could be coming over here any minute!”

  Bantu looked at me and nodded. The Eye of Zinnia swayed back and forth as I crawled my way through the tent to get out. I felt it light up my face as it glowed.

  "What is that thing?" Chris whispered.

  As I stood in front of the tent, I was terrified. My knees were shaking, my heart was racing, and I couldn't guarantee that I wasn't going to throw up, but I stood to face the Guardian Soul who was every bit of eight feet tall.

  He turned to face me. I fought the urge to run. You can do this, Nadia, I said to myself.

  "You don't belong here," the Guardian Soul bellowed. "Leave my land."

  Reaching over, he picked up a small tree and threw it towards the tent. I could hear Charlotte's brain-rattling scream as the tree grazed the tent, tearing a small hole in the side.

  Turning back towards the tent, I said to Bantu, “I didn’t know they could pick things up.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Bantu said. “Just let the Eye of Zinnia work in your heart.”

  The Guardian Soul towered over me. I pushed aside the dizzy feeling that was making my head spin, took a deep breath, and opened my mouth. From the bottom of my throat bubbled my own song, easing from my lips: roho mbaya kusombwa.

  Each time I repeated the words, I sang louder and louder until I was signing at the top of my voice with so much force my ribs began to ache. The Guardian Soul backed further away from us the louder I sang until, shrieking at the sound of my song, the Guardian Soul backed so far away that he faded into the darkness of the night.

  The winds stop screaming, the ground stopped shaking, and everything was quiet.

  Exhausted, I collapse to my knees outside of the tent.

  Charlotte peeked out to see if the coast was clear, then she crawled out of the tent.

  “That was amazing! How did you do that? What did you do?”

  Too tired to talk, I just sat there nodding my head.r />
  My mom sat beside me and hugged me tightly. "That was amazing; how did you manage to do something like that?"

  “I am the son of a High Priestess,” answered Bantu. “I was taught at a very young age how to handle spiritual attacks, and now I have taught Nadia to do the same.”

  “That was very kind of you, Bantu,” my dad said.

  “Well, I can’t protect everyone by myself all of the time, so I enlisted Nadia for a little help,” Bantu said, winking at me. Catching on to what Bantu was doing, I just nodded.

  As we all headed back into the tent, Bantu stopped me. "We must only reveal your powers to your family if you absolutely must. If it is not necessary, do not reveal your gifts to anyone. It will cause confusion and anger since you are not of my people."

  “Okay,” I said. “Just another secret to keep in the vault.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, we were all up before the sun. It looked like midnight instead of five in the morning. The stars were still shining, and there was a definite chill in the air. As we packed our equipment, I tried to imagine what the Maji territory would be like.

  Walking to the ridge in the dark shed a totally new light on Fort Portal. What looked like a deserted, empty field in the daylight was suddenly busy with life all around us. Field mice ran back and forth across our paths, playing hide and seek. As we walked, I was half-hoping and kind of afraid that we would run into a cheetah or a hungry jackal, but Bantu said they didn't usually hang out in wide-open areas. The early morning birds chirped and squawked, their good morning songs floating through the crisp air.

  Out of nowhere, a small bright blue objected hopped out of a bush onto the path in front of us. “Oh, look how cute,” Mrs. Haynes said, quickly flashing several pictures. With his back turned towards us, the little bird began to hop around like he was doing the hokey pokey.

  “Oh look, it’s dancing,” Charlotte said, laughing. As the little bird shook his tail feathers, a second bird hopped out of the same bush. This bird was the color of fire. Falling right in step with the blue bird, the birds continued to dance.