by Rocco Ryg
As the weeks went by, my regrets had faded. I felt like I was really making a difference to those less fortunate than myself… like I was saving the world in my own tiny way. My relationship with my coworkers also deepened. On Christmas Eve, the town held a celebration at the campfire. In-between the villagers’ dances, Esteban would play beautiful Spanish Christmas carols on his guitar, captivating everyone. We all liked him for his sly sense of humor and general good nature. Maxwell would sit next to me, and we would talk about our interests and dreams. He wanted to be a diplomat because of his interest in foreign relations. I told him all about Japan and joked that he should be a diplomat there.
Maxwell opened up to me about his impending marriage to Karla Kloors, the heiress to the Kloors brewery company. It wasn’t what he wanted. His family pushed him into the marriage for financial reasons. I didn’t think such things happened in America, like they did in Japan. “Do you like her?” I asked.
“She’s got a mind of her own,” he replied with a huff. I could tell he wasn’t happy about the arrangement. “Sometimes, it’s her way or the highway.”
“You shouldn’t marry someone you don’t love.”
“I’m... not exactly the favorite son. My father makes that perfectly clear to everybody. I’m starting to think he sent me here just to get me away for a while. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
“So you’re going to spend your life with someone your parents chose?”
Maxwell showed apprehension. “She’s not all bad. She’s got a temper, but... she’s pretty, I guess.” I could see how he wasn’t the favorite son. A more confident man would have stood up for himself.
Over the campfire, I saw Shannon grinning at me like a fox. She must have thought Maxwell and I had a connection. Sadly, her instincts proved correct. I really was falling for the handsome American. It could have been his looks, his family fortune, his beautiful eyes, my youth... or it could have been the potential challenge of making him break out of his shell and live his own life. As we grew closer over the next month, I grew increasingly infatuated whenever I saw him.
***
Village operations continued as usual throughout January. We made great progress in building a small school for the children to attend. I usually worked in the kitchen with James, providing meals to the hungry people. During all of this, I never visited the worksite where the men labored every day. It just never occurred to me to look at the other side of town. I saw enough digging in the village itself, but I never questioned what they were searching for. On the morning of February 2nd, Jeremiah, Shannon and I took a trip to Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone, to pick up some more supplies. Having spent so much time in the poor village, I had no idea such a city could exist in this country. Alongside the beautiful mountains, I saw modern hotels, restaurants and government buildings, as well as crowded streets cluttered with markets.
While walking through the busy market, I spotted a man selling necklaces in a private booth. I scanned through the selection until I spotted a necklace with the Japanese symbol for “remember” on the pendant. I thought it would be the perfect gift to give Maxwell, so he would always remember me when we went our separate ways. I bought the item and drove back to the village with my friends. When we returned, I decided to see Maxwell where the men worked. I asked Mary to show me the site, so she led me to the larger dig site on the other side of the village.
What I saw shattered my optimism forever. Inside the massive clearing, a hundred African men toiled in the unbearable heat digging up the earth with shovels and pickaxes. Some hauled the dirt around in wheelbarrows, while others stood up to their waists in filthy brown water and sifted through pans. Chillingworth’s armed guards stood on high watchtowers and watched through binoculars over the concrete walls that surrounded the area. At first, I thought it was a slave camp, but Mary didn’t seem upset. “What are they doing?” I asked her.
She replied in her broken English, “They pan for diamonds and other valuables. We sell to Chillingworth Company and make big money.” She led me through the dry pathway, and I watched as the men searched through their pans, hoping to find a valuable item. We entered a makeshift building on the edge of the clearing and heard Maxwell talking to the village chief.
“My men are trained professionals. They’ve lined the surrounding area with landmines and walls. The only way in is through the village. Those rebels won’t dare attack this site, I guarantee it.”
The chief replied, “I hope you are right. This is closest diamond mine in area, and these ruthless men need money.”
“I assure you, your village is safe.” Maxwell tried to sound confident, but I could sense the hesitation in his voice.
Just then, a villager that I saw working in the pit earlier ran past us and spoke to the chief in jubilation. Revealing ourselves, Mary and I saw the man present a small diamond. As the elder inspected the find, the worker stood there smiling, like a dog waiting for a treat. The chief put the diamond in a small pouch and said something in Krio to the worker, who ran back outside in joy.
Maxwell noticed us and said, “Oh, Mika and Mary. You’re back from Freetown already?”
Mary asked, “Did we get much diamonds today, father?”
“Yes. Mr. Chillingworth will pay fortune for these.”
Maxwell said, “I sure will. Your village is in good hands.”
When Mary and the chief left to oversee the workers, Maxwell turned to me and asked, “Is something wrong, Mika?”
I didn’t know how to answer. What I had seen baffled me. “Those villagers... is that what they do all day? Dig up diamonds for your company?”
He replied as if reading from a memorized script, “We have a prosperous partnership. They provide what we need for a fair price, and in return, we provide security against rebel forces.”
“But you’re exploiting them.”
“Exploiting? This is a legitimate business deal. Everyone prospers. Besides, they prefer dealing with us than SLUM. Those animals will chop off their hands and force them to work at gunpoint.”
“Does the United Nations know you’re doing this, or is this a secret operation?”
He put his arm around me in an unwelcome attempt at comfort. “Mika, I understand this is a lot to take in, but... this isn’t America or Japan, its Africa. They conduct business not with contracts and deals, but with AK-47s and machetes. Only American-style free enterprise can provide this village with the wealth and protection it deserves. If those incompetent bureaucrats at the UN ran this show, they’d be tangled in red tape while SLUM controlled this place and sold the diamonds for guns and rockets.”
Maxwell tried his best to justify his actions, but I deduced the truth. His father got him into the UN group for the sole purpose of securing the digging site, but as revolting as it sounded, I had to admit that he was right. The rebels really would destroy this village to seize control of the diamonds, and Chillingworth’s occupation of the land at least offered protection and profit. My parents warned me about Africa. They told me tribal, religious and militant groups warred with brutal dictators over valuable resources, and no amount of foreign aid would ever help. I started to see their point.
I removed the necklace from my pocket and gave it to him. He studied my gift and asked, “What’s this?”
“It means remember,” I told him. “I can’t do this anymore.” I walked away and went to file a transfer request. I couldn’t stand this violent hellhole of a country anymore... or maybe I just couldn’t stand him.
“Wait,” said Maxwell as I left. “We still need you. You’re an important part of this...”
Before I could leave both the building and the continent forever, Esteban burst through the double doors and called out, “Max! Max, come quick!” He looked sweaty and out of breath, as if he had run there without a break.
“What is it, Esteban?” asked Maxwell.
“We found something... in the village... buried underground.” The strong Chilean could b
arely breathe as he revealed the news. “It’s got some markings on it. Come on.”
Before Maxwell followed him out the door, he turned to me, his face showing no guilt. “Are you coming?”
I hid my contempt. “I was heading there anyway.”
We walked back to the village across the trail and spotted the huge crowd that had gathered around a pit. I understood now why they had been digging all those holes in town. We pushed through the crowd and saw the amazing discovery that the villagers had unearthed. A huge, ugly stone head stuck out of the dirt with a grotesque face that scared the children. It seemed to threaten us, or perhaps warn us to leave it alone. Chillingworth, however, did not fear the statue. I could tell he was thinking of profit already. “Keep digging,” he said as the villagers flung the dirt away. Esteban jumped into the pit and joined in, impatient to see the finished product.
After two hours of intense digging, the statue sat exposed for all to see. The six foot figure had a large head and flat skull disproportionate to the smaller body, with hair and a beard tied in traditional African tufts and engravings covering its body. It sat on a circular platform with its legs crossed and its stubby feet pointing to the ground, but its most impressive feature had to be the treasure trapped in its hands. The statue grasped a large, black stone that no one could identify.
“What is this?” I asked no one. I couldn’t think straight with that thing staring at me.
“It is nomoli,” replied Mary, who looked just as enthralled as I was.
“A what?”
“Nomoli. It is statue for fertility and rice harvest. They are very old, from culture no one remembers. They say angels cast from heaven became men, and nomoli remind man of fall from paradise. It holds sky stone, piece of heaven.”
Maxwell knew the subject. “I thought nomolis were smaller. This one is huge.”
We inspected the nomoli, paying close attention to the drawings carved across. Despite unknown centuries of erosion, the engravings looked like new, as though the artist carefully melted lines into the stone itself. On the head, I saw a man flying through the air with a flock of birds following him. Another picture showed a man transforming into a cheetah. Others portrayed a woman whose hands spewed fire, a man with spikes protruding from his body and a child who seemed to be trapped in a tornado.
“Look at this guy.” Esteban pointed to a drawing of a shaman surrounded by skeletons, who stood in triumph holding a body in mid-decay. “Pretty sick, man.”
“Ohhh, this one’s a lady’s man.” Shannon observed a naked man surrounded by a dozen bare women who couldn’t resist him.
“This is unbelievable,” said Maxwell, dollar signs already on his mind. “It’s like a prehistoric comic book. Mary, tell them this archeological find will make this village very rich. I’m going to call the embassy. Tomorrow, we’ll all be famous!” He ran to his hut, anxious to reveal this discovery to the world.
“I need my camera. We’re going to be in National Geographic.” Shannon ran through the crowd of villagers, who looked intimidated by the monstrous nomoli. Jeremiah ogled the strange black stone the statue gripped. “Fascinating. I can’t tell what kind of stone this is. Any idea, Mr. Soto-Mendoza?”
Esteban felt the nomoli’s treasure. “I don’t know rocks, man. I got some equipment in my hut. Maybe we test it out.” He left the pit, leaving Jeremiah and I to ponder what this meant.
“God has rewarded us, Mika,” said Neuhaus, looking to the sky. “This is a sign from heaven.”
“I don’t think God put this here, Jeremiah.”
“Why not? Don’t you believe in miracles?”
“Not really, no.” He gave me a disappointing look. I elected to not question his beliefs any further. The man took his faith very seriously, as that cross around his neck showed.
Shannon jumped back in the hole and snapped pictures of the nomoli, while Esteban went to work on the stone. He scratched it with a scalpel. “It’s very hard, scratch resistant, smooth, no luster... let’s check it with the Geiger.” He removed a Geiger counter from his pack and waved it over the rock. To our surprise, the device immediately went crazy. “Joder! This thing’s radioactive!” We quickly climbed out of the hole to escape.
Maxwell, overseeing us from the edge, walked back to his hut. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“I’m going to call them again. I’ll tell them to bring hazard material protection.”
After he called the right people, Maxwell suggested we take a group photograph to commemorate the occasion. He stood in front and flashed a satisfied smile. I couldn’t look happy if I tried. I had this crazy feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
***
After all of the excitement, I was glad to get some sleep. I still felt betrayed by Maxwell, but with the discovery of the nomoli, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to transfer anymore. Maybe I would change my mind the next day, when the reporters came to reveal the find to the world.
That night, I had a horrible nightmare. I saw myself running through the village as the sounds of gunfire, screams and explosions echoed around me. I saw Esteban dashing into a crowd of men who shot him with automatic rifles, but the bullets bounced off his skin. As Esteban killed his attackers, I heard Maxwell ordering his guards to fire upon them, and in a cowardly panic, I ran to the medical center for protection. Before I could reach safety, a quick, agonizing pain entered my stomach and made me fall. I clutched my gunshot wound as my vision blurred and my hearing deafened to a whisper. Jeremiah kneeled over me, but he couldn’t save me. I heard him shout, “Mika! Stay with me!” as I blacked out and died.
I screamed when I awoke. It was so real. I could still feel the gunshot in my chest. Panicking, I inspected myself, finding no wound and no blood, but I had developed the worst headache I had ever experienced. My head throbbed faster than a heartbeat. I got out of my sleeping bag and put on some clothes, intending to head to the hospital, when I noticed my roommates acting strangely. Shannon tossed and turned in her sleeping bag while moaning nonsensical words. At first, I thought she had taken drugs or something. Mary shivered in her bed. She shook so fast, I thought she’d fall apart.
I shook the Irishwoman until she awoke. “Shannon, what’s wrong?”
“Mika? Whazz goin on? I feel all wobbly...” She eyes darted around in their sockets. I unzipped her bag and helped her out. I then turned to Mary and felt her freezing head.
“Mary? Why are you so cold? It’s 100 degrees out there.”
“Mika? I’m so cold. Please help.” She could barely speak through her shivering.
“Don’t worry, Mary, we’re going to get Dr. Neuhaus and he’s going to make you warm again. Just stay here.” I grabbed Shannon and guided her outside, resisting the pain of my massive migraine. When we got to the medical center, we saw almost the entire village lined up outside. Some people held their heads in pain, while others rubbed their hands or wobbled in a daze. It made no sense. How could an entire town fall victim to different symptoms?
Esteban and James caught up with us. The Chilean walked slowly, as if his body couldn’t move straight, and the village cook held on to an ice pack. “What’s happening?” I asked, as if they knew something I didn’t.
“I don’t know,” said Esteban, who struggled to move his jaw. “The whole town’s come down with something. I can’t even move.”
“It is the nomoli,” said James, who threw his now-warm ice pack on the ground. “Nothing like this happened before we found it. It is cursed.”
We entered the medical center, where Jeremiah tended to the children as their parents watched. A young boy lay on a gurney in a trance. Jeremiah checked his heartbeat and pulse and said, “All vitals are normal. I don’t see any problems other than...” The parents gasped as their son sank into the gurney and fell through the bottom, leaving his clothes on the table. Neuhaus ducked under and found the boy on the ground, his body sharing the same space with the platforms wheels. He tried to touch him, but his hand sli
pped right through.
We then turned our attention to another screaming set of parents. Their daughter lay on another gurney, her skin turning pure white before our eyes. The skin then disappeared, exposing her muscles. Then the muscles disappeared, revealing her skeleton and organs. In another moment, all we could see were her clothes on an invisible body. The girl’s father became so scared while grabbing her, his hands burst into flame, and we heard the girl shout as the fire scorched her transparent skin. The villagers displayed many other strange skills.
Maxwell then entered the hospital, clutching his head just like I had done. He took a quick look at the people who levitated, burned and spit acid that ate through the floor. “It seems our discovery comes with side effects.”
“Side effects?” cried Jeremiah, who held the cross around his neck. “This is insane! People don’t move through solid matter and float!”
“Calm down, Jerry. Aside from initial discomfort, these new abilities don’t seem to be hurting us too badly. We need to maintain order in this village until help arrives, so tell the villagers there is nothing to worry about.” He sounded calm, collected and in-control, oddly unfazed by the impossible chaos surrounding us.
I approached him, my head still pounding. “Maxwell, that nomoli did this to us. It must be the radiation. We have to bury it again.”
“Bury it? Mika, that thing is the greatest archeological find in history. It’s bigger than King Tut. We can’t just bury it. Besides, the embassy already knows.”
“And what happens when they get it? How many people will touch it and become monsters? What will your government do... use it on soldiers?”
Maxwell considered the idea. I guess he understood my point. “Perhaps, but reinforcements will be here tomorrow, with reporters in tow. Unless... Esteban, the rock in the statue was the only radioactive part, correct?”