by Jack Ford
‘Yes, he’s a good man…He’s helped a lot of people. He has also rid the community of witchcraft.’
‘How? How, Zola?’
Zola looked at Maddie intently. ‘By killing the Kindoki spirit in them… But it was too late for my grandson.’
Carefully, Maddie said, ‘But why? Why was it too late for him?’
Her words sounded affronted. ‘He came to warn us before, but I didn’t believe my grandson was possessed and so refused Papa Bemba’s help. My grandson behaved so normally. But that’s how it is with the possessed, they’ll say and act as if they have no evil in them, but often that’s the Kindoki talking, trying to trick you.’
Cooper contemplated what Zola had said. It sounded like a hell of a catch-22. Admit you were a witch and you’d be delivered. Say you weren’t, you’d be delivered anyway.
‘When Bemba came to warn you, was your grandson ill?’ Maddie asked.
‘No, but Papa Bemba can see the spirit of the possessed before the sighted can. His darkness gives him the power of healing.’
‘I’m sorry to go over this, Zola, but I just want to get this straight. Papa Bemba knew the so-called evil spirits were in your grandson before he was ill?’
‘Oui.’
‘Then when he actually gets ill, Papa Bemba says he’ll heal him.’
Zola sounded slighted irritated by Maddie’s questions. ‘Yes.’
‘But then when it comes down to it, he doesn’t manage to save him because…’
Zola sighed, clearly disappointed by the lack of understanding. ‘Because it was too late. We’d angered the good spirits by not believing Papa Bemba when he came to warn us, and as a consequence, forces of evil began to grow inside and take over my grandson completely. It meant when I begged Papa Bemba to help us the Kindoki was too strong and therefore Bemba wasn’t able to rid my grandson of them. It was evil which killed him.’
‘And so this Bemba guy,’ said Rosedale, also abandoning the plan of Maddie leading the questioning. ‘He did all this for nothing? He does it just because he likes to go around healing? Caring about the community?’
Zola’s eyes flashed furiously. ‘No, for an exchange.’
Cooper touched Zola’s hand, drawing her attention to him. And remembering what Maddie had explained about the different kind of ceremonies, he said, ‘Where you give the spirits something in exchange for them doing something for you?’
‘Yes.’
‘But in this case it’s Bemba who’s reaping the reward,’ said Rosedale. ‘It’s him you and other people are giving stuff to.’
Anger passed across Zola’s face and travelled into her voice. ‘No! Papa Bemba is the channel of the spirits. He’s their vehicle. It is not for him. It is for them.’
Even Maddie, who understood and had been very much a part of the culture at one time, dug deep not to show her cynicism. ‘So even though Bemba didn’t cure your grandson from the Kindoki, there was still an exchange? You still paid him with something?’
‘Of course.’
Already knowing she probably wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear, Maddie had to ask. ‘And what was the exchange? What did you give Papa Bemba, Zola?’
‘My land. I gave him my land.’
‘Your land?’
‘Yes of course the evil was strong and therefore needed a just exchange… Children are often the hardest.’
Maddie stiffened with a scorn and a coldness in her eyes that Cooper rarely saw.
‘What do you mean, hardest?’
‘Hardest to rid of the sorcery. The evil takes over very quickly and they don’t realize what’s happening to them. So it is for the parents, grandparents and the community to make sure they’re delivered.’
Knowing the answer but needing somehow to hear it, Maddie said, ‘And if they refuse, come on Zola, tell me what you do?’
Picking up on her hostility, Rosedale tried to calm her. ‘Maddie.’
‘Oh no, I’m curious to hear what Zola has to say. Come on. Dîtes-moi.’
Zola stared Maddie straight in the eyes and spoke matter-of-factly. ‘Hold them. Tie them down, or if the spirits really fight, you must beat them. Anything to stop the devil running away.’
‘Jesus. They’re children, Zola!’
‘No. Not once they’ve been possessed. Only when they become free of the Kindoki do they become themselves again.’
‘And is that what you did to your grandson? Is it? Did you tie him down, Zola?’
Rosedale raised his voice. ‘What the hell are you doing, Maddie?’
With her eyes shining angrily, Maddie said, ‘I just wanna know what she did to her own grandchild.’
Rosedale grabbed her arm. Shook it slightly. ‘What is wrong with you?’
‘Me? Nothing’s wrong with me, Rosedale. And it seems clear there’s nothing wrong with Zola because she doesn’t think it’s wrong, do you?’
The old lady, with just as much as fire in her belly as Maddie seemed to have, pointed her finger. ‘Wrong? How can it be wrong to help rid them of bad spirits? To vomit up the devil and let them be free of the evil.’
‘And what about them being frightened? Terrified? What about that, hey?’
‘Their fear comes from the evil spirit inside. It knows it’s going to be destroyed by the deliverance.’
‘Non vous vous trompez! You’re wrong! You’re wrong. It’s not the spirits, Zola, it’s them. People like your grandson who are terrified. Being beaten. Starved. Thrown out onto the street because somebody needs somebody to blame. Children are dying because of this.’
‘Maddie, enough!’
Angrily Zola said, ‘If you die they’ll exchange your life so you can be freed from the evil within, allowing you to be revered in death and walk once again amongst the good. It’s the only way to atone for the harm your sorcery has done in this life.’
As Rosedale pulled her outside, Maddie shouted. ‘Can you hear yourself Zola? These are children we’re talking about. Children. Tu devrais avoir honte…! Tu m’entends? Tu devrais avoir honte!’
62
‘What the hell do you thinking you’re doing? Well go on, Maddison, tell me. Don’t let the cat catch your tongue now, because hell, woman, you had enough to say to Zola.’
Not fully knowing if it was tears or the rain or both she felt running down her face, Maddie said, ‘Just leave it Rosedale, okay.’
‘Well that’s not what I’m going to do. So why don’t we make this easy on both of us and tell me what’s going on’
Maddie shouted over the noise of the heavy rain. ‘I would if there was anything to tell.’
‘I know you Maddison, and okay I might not have known you long, but that wasn’t you in there. The Maddison I know is one hell of a woman but she doesn’t judge. Not like that. She understands her culture, proud of it like she should be. So unless this Kindoki is real and has taken you as well, then sugar, you need to start talking.’
‘You think that’s funny? To joke about Kindoki? Whether it’s real or not and whether you believe it or not kids are being hurt because somehow it’s okay to do that to them. How can it be okay, Rosedale? Did you see them in Kinshasa? Did you see how traumatized they were? They were babies, Rosedale. Six and seven years old. Some younger than that. UNICEF reported that there were over twenty thousand kids in Kinshasa alone accused of witchcraft. Twenty thousand, Rosedale. And nobody’s helping. Not us, not anybody. They live on the streets with no food, no shelter. No-one to care for them because somebody somewhere didn’t get that job or got sick and decided they were to blame. Innocent kids… So yes, I’m afraid it is me, Rosedale, who you saw in there. That’s me. I am going to judge because I don’t know how Zola can stand in there when her grandson’s just died and talk about Kindoki and try telling me they don’t feel fear when they’re locked up in a dark room having the evil starved out of them. Can’t she see her poor grandson had some sort of illness? It wasn’t witchcraft.’
With the brim of his cowboy hat fu
ll of water and the sound of the tapping and patting of rain beating down on the large banana leaves, Rosedale said, ‘What happened to you Maddie?’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. What happened to you, Maddison? Here. In the DRC. What happened to you? Is that why you haven’t visited the country for years?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes you do… This happened to you didn’t it…? Maddison. Talk to me.’
Maddison blinked, drew breath, and held her head high. She spoke with an equanimity Rosedale hadn’t seen in her before.
‘I was twelve years old and it was four years before the civil war broke out. I’d come to stay in a village not too far from here. They were close friends of my grandmother so I’d known them since as far back as I could remember. Every time I’d come to visit the country I pestered my grandparents to let me go and stay with them. Then one day after lots of persuasion, I was allowed to go. So you could imagine how excited I was. Daddy was in Kinshasa and my grandmother had taken the opportunity to go to a wedding over in Yangambi. And I was delighted… Things were fine for the first few days. It was everything I thought it would be. We had fun. It was like staying with your favorite aunt and uncle at Christmas time.’ She gave a melancholy smile. ‘But then one night I was dragged out of bed and a hand put over my mouth. I was terrified. I tried to fight but it turned out there was more than one person. Holding my feet. Pulling my hands behind my back. I didn’t know what was happening, I thought they were intruders but then I caught a glimpse of their faces. It was my so-called aunt and uncle. They looked at me with a mixture of revulsion and anger, and as I cried and begged them to stop there was no kind of empathy. They bound my legs and hands behind my back and they took me to the river. Tried to drown out the devil. Eventually I passed out and woke up in a small room. Still tied up but now there was not only my aunt and uncle but also a self-appointed pastor who force fed me a drink, just like we saw Bemba doing to those children back at the church. It made me vomit. I was so sick, Rosedale. I didn’t think anybody could feel that sick. I was covered in it, but they didn’t clean me up, they just bundled me in a large sack like a laundry bag. Tied the top of it and left me there. Locked up and terrified and every few hours they’d come in and beat me with belts through the bag. I was like that for two days in that sack but it felt like forever, Rosedale. No food. No water. And not being able to go to the bathroom. I sat in my own urine thinking I was going to die… So yeah, you were right, Rosedale, Tom’s not the only one with ghosts.’
‘Jesus, Maddie, I…’
‘Don’t know what to say? There isn’t anything to say.’
‘How did you get away?’
Maddie said, ‘My grandmother came home. Simple as that. I know there was a huge argument but I was too traumatized to really know what went down. She took me back to Kinshasa and once I got checked out at the hospital I flew back home to the States with my daddy. And that was it. I’ve never been back. Until now. Daddy never spoke to his mom again. He blamed her and ironically she blamed the spirits. And you know what, Rosedale, the whole thing happened because my uncle had a bout of gastritis which made it impossible for him to go to work and he missed out on some opportunity.’
‘What happened to them?’
Maddie shrugged. ‘Nothing. That’s just how it is. Something which happens. And it makes me so mad… So sad.’
‘Honey, I’m so sorry. Does Thomas know this?’
Maddie shook her head. ‘No and I don’t want him to. Okay?’
‘Whatever you say. Your call,’ said Rosedale, then added: ‘It doesn’t take a shrink to know why you chose the job you did. You’re kick ass, baby. Both in what you do and who you are. Don’t you ever forget that, Miss Maddison.’
Maddie wiped away her tears along, pushing her memories away and smiled.
‘I’m not sure if this place is good for any of us.’
‘It’s not the place. We take our baggage with us.’
‘So what baggage are you carrying? Because I reckon there’s one big suitcase.’
With the rain pouring down, Rosedale leant on the tree, picking out his cuticles with his thumb. ‘Maddison, what the hell are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about you. The real you. You never tell me anything about your life.’
Rosedale shrugged. ‘Nothing to say.’
‘Don’t give me that.’
‘Okay. Lots to say. No-one to listen.’
‘There must have been someone special at one time.’
‘Imagined or real?’
Maddie said. ‘What do you mean?’
‘As you know I worked for the CIA Clan— ’
She rolled her eyes then grinned and finished his sentence. ‘Clandestine Service. Yes. Think we all do.’
He grinned. ‘The point is you live a life where everything’s pretend. A big ol’ pretend world. Pretending to be somebody else. Pretending to be a guy with kids and a wife. Pretending to be love’s young dream with some CIA operative who hates the sight of you and you hate the sight of them. And then what happens is because you submerge yourself in the make believe to do the job, you eventually end up believing it’s real yourself. That you’ve got the wife. You’ve got the kids. You’ve got the house. And you’ve got the love. The American dream. Then one day, the mailman comes and delivers your pink slip and it all disappear in a cloud of smoke and you realize there’s nobody there at all. Never was… And that’s why I think he’s a fool.’
‘Who is?’
‘Thomas.’
‘Why?’
‘For letting you go. If I’d been lucky enough to have someone like you, I would’ve never let you go.’
Maddie brushed the rain off the end of her nose. ‘Rosedale. Thank you. That’s the kindest thing someone has said about me in a very long time.’
Rosedale shuffled. Put his head down. ‘I don’t mean it to be kind, ma’am. It’s the truth. I can’t help the way I feel.’
‘Rosedale, listen…’
‘No.’
‘Rosedale…’
‘No, Miss Maddison. You want to know things about me. Well here are two things to know. I’m not real good at sentiment or disappointment, and I’m guessing what you’re about to say is one of the two, so I think it’s best we leave it there. But I will ask you this… What do you think of Kevin Costner?’
And in the middle of the dark, rain-soaked forest, Maddie stared at Rosedale.
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’
A wide smile crossed Maddie’s face. ‘I think he was robbed.’
63
‘Donald?’
‘Speaking.’
‘It’s John Woods.’
Donald Parker used his tongue to push a piece of white bread to one side of his mouth. ‘I have to admit this is an honour and a first, I don’t usually get a call from the president of the United States when I’m tucking into a meatloaf sandwich. It’s good you caught me, I’m due to fly out of town on some business this evening. Hence the rushed breakfast-cum-lunch-cum-dinner.’
Woods mouthed a silent thank you to Joan, as she placed a cup of coffee on his desk in front of him and he continued to fiddle with his red fountain pen, spinning it round between his fingers until it dropped on the floor. ‘Well I hate to come between a man and his meatloaf, so I’ll make this quick. I just wanted to call you personally to say this administration is excited to be part of such an innovative campaign. I know you’ve spoken to Teddy and my team since we made the decision, but I was going over some paperwork and what you’ve done in the DRC, well, it’s really very impressive. Especially what you’ve done with Lemon water treatment. Exceptional, in fact. It shows such an altruistic responsibility. A real social conscience rather than just business acumen. Making a difference to the community is why I got into politics in the first place. You should be very proud of everything you’ve done and I look forward to being part of it.’
At which point Parker swallowed the piece of sandwich, and said, ‘Thank you, Mr. President. I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to make this call.’
‘Well I feel it’s important to support anything which puts us as a nation in the right direction. And clearly supporting conflict free products does just that.’
‘As well as giving you your votes for the reforms.’
Woods wasn’t quite sure why Parker’s choice of words made him feel a little uneasy. A little like he was heading to sit in someone’s pocket. But he carried on. ‘And this administration appreciates your support. Anyhow, all the details, my team are working on at the moment and we should have a strategy put together pretty soon which, once you see it, I’m sure you’ll approve of. Then as agreed we’ll be making a press announcement.’
‘Mr. President, I hope this doesn’t sound too presumptuous. But I think you’re doing the right thing.’
Woods bent down to pick up his red fountain pen. Took a sip of his coffee. ‘You know something Parker, I think I am.’
64
With the morning sun rubbed out by the rain, the trio stood under the part of the hut’s roof which still remained intact.
Maddie watched with some distaste as Rosedale enthusiastically poured some bottled water into a pouch of freeze-dried food to reconstitute the meal.
‘You really like that stuff don’t you? I hate it.’
With rain dripping off his cowboy hat, he grinned. ‘It’s not bad, you should eat yours up quick before Mr. Hungry Monster eats yours as well.’
She laughed. Scratched at the multitude of insect bites on her arm. ‘You mean you? You’re welcome to it. Here have it.’
‘Nope, not me… look at Thomas, he’s almost salivating for yours, ain’t that right, boy?’
Cooper answered cordially but he was struggling. Struggling even to put one word in front of another. ‘I’m with Maddie on this one. It’s hardly Manny’s Deli, is it?’
Maddie glanced at Rosedale who’d just finished sucking a large amount of the food pouch into his mouth. She reached out and tenderly wiped his face. ‘You had some on your chin… What flavor’s that anyway?’