Cry of the Firebird

by T. M. Clark

  Quintin stopped at the first bake store they came across. ‘Koeksisters, been a while since you made those.’ He handed over the money and popped the sugary delicacies into his mouth. He smiled. ‘That alone was worth the visit. You want some?’ He offered around and watched as David carefully fed his sister and gave her exactly half of his sweet delight.

  Quintin gave him another one. David went to feed more to Diamond.

  ‘No, Diamond has probably had enough, but you are welcome to eat the whole thing, David,’ Lily said.

  They walked slowly up and down the aisles, and Quintin watched as an African lady walked past with three children trailing her and one on her hip. They were well dressed, and she was on a mobile phone, and yet she didn’t carry a bag to put her purchases in. He turned and checked that Lily had her bag securely over her shoulder and across her body as she usually did when they were in a crowded place. He moved his own wallet from his back pocket to the front of his jeans, remembering the time he’d had his wallet stolen by pickpockets when they bumped into him in a crowded market.

  He watched the woman and the children as they walked slowly along, touching things, not really looking at them. They seemed to be concentrating on a couple walking in front. The tourists were obviously foreign, and while Quintin could see the man was tall, the woman next to him appeared petite and almost fragile. Her handbag was hanging loosely on her shoulder.

  ‘Back in a second,’ he said to Lily as he detoured past the suspected pickpocket family. He could hear the couple talking in German, which was distinctly different to the Afrikaans all around.

  ‘Entschuldigung,’ he said in German to the strangers, ‘you might want to secure that bag better. This is Africa, and you’re foreign. You’ll be targeted with it hanging loosely like that. You should carry it like my wife over there,’ he pointed to Lily, ‘and make sure that your money, if not on a waistband or in a bumbag underneath your clothes, is secure in the front pocket, where it is less likely to be stolen,’ he said.

  Lily didn’t know what was being said, but the lady looked at her and then she secured her bag across her chest. Lily gave her a little wave and smiled.

  Quintin stopped and waited by the store as the suspected pickpockets walked past and picked up the pace, knowing that they’d been spotted, and moving on to find another victim. Quintin smiled because today he’d foiled at least one bag snatch. But not before the woman with the mobile phone still glued to her ear had glared at him for warning her intended target. He grinned back and greeted her politely, but she ignored him and pushed on. She had people to see and rob.

  ‘Talented, polite and nice enough to want to warn a stranger that she’s about to be robbed. Be still my beating heart,’ Lily said as she linked her hand into his.

  ‘Just because I’m not in Africa all the time doesn’t mean I want other people to suffer what I had to learn the hard way,’ he said.

  They walked around the market, stopping to buy a jar of marmalade made with brandy. Lily bought her biltong and a packet of dry wors, and then they headed towards the plant area. Luckily, it was right next to the face painting.

  ‘Piet and I’ll be with the kids over there, while you sort out all the plants and do your gardening thing here,’ Lily said.

  ‘Sure,’ Quintin said as he dug the list from his pocket and watched as David took Diamond to get her face painted.

  He spoke with one of the vendors, who quickly had a couple of boxes packed full of seedlings—he even offered to take the boxes to the bakkie. When they were done, the vendor pointed to where Quintin and Lily would find the last vendor that they were looking for.

  ‘Look at Spiderman and the fairy,’ Lily said when Quintin joined them in the kids’ area.

  ‘Oh, so beautiful,’ Quintin said.

  ‘You’re saying that I’m beautiful? As Spiderman?’ David asked.

  ‘Definitely not beautiful,’ Piet said, rolling his eyes at Quintin. ‘You are rocking that Spiderman look.’

  Quintin shook his head. ‘As a person, totally beautiful inside and out, but as Spiderman, you’re actually a tad scary looking.’

  ‘Awesome,’ David said with a smile. ‘But Diamond is beautiful?’

  ‘Your sister looks like a little fairy with all that glitter and pink all over her face,’ Quintin said.

  ‘Almost like a flamingo,’ David said.

  Quintin and Piet laughed.

  They took pictures on their phones, and then Diamond put her arms out to Quintin to be carried. She put her head on his shoulder and rubbed her eyes.

  ‘Someone has had a full-on morning and probably needs a nap. Your Mr Magaso is just over there. I can sit here with the kids while you go and talk to him,’ Quintin said.

  ‘Thanks,’ Lily said, kissing him. ‘David, will you look after Quintin and Diamond for Piet and me until we get back? Make sure no one comes and paints his face while I’m not looking?’

  David’s shoulders appeared to puff outwards, and between giggles at the thought of Quintin with a painted face, he managed to say, ‘Yes, Dr Lily, I can do that for you.’

  * * *

  Mr Magaso had an umbrella with ‘Standard Bank’ written all over it. Underneath that, he had a small round table and two chairs. The table was covered with skins, and he sat in traditional clothing of a Zulu sangoma. His headdress was made out of ostrich feathers and the head of some poor lion which must have died many years ago—the hair had been reduced to patches of shiny leather in places. His large stomach was well-rounded thanks to an ample beer belly. Covering his shoulders, he had a kaross made from dassie skins which was old and worn with holes right through. On the table in front of him, he had an assortment of bones and stones that he tossed for people and told their fortunes, or warned them of impending danger. He seemed to be alternating between the two options as they watched.

  ‘Come, sit out of the sun while we wait,’ Piet said.

  ‘He is another medicine man?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Yes, when he is free. We need to go sit in his chair, pay the fee, and have your fortune told—only after that can you tell him who you are, and then he will acknowledge me sitting beside you.’

  Lily looked at Piet and raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you serious? I’m to sit there and listen to his rubbish for ten minutes?’

  ‘That is the way it is done,’ Piet said. ‘It is always a show.’

  When the next customer left Lily stood next to the chair and Mr Magaso motioned with his hand for her to sit.

  ‘Fifty rands for your fortune,’ he said.

  Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Fifty rand? That’s a rip-off, you and I both know that. You’re just going to tell me now that I’m going to win money and my life is going to change, which is exactly what you’ve been telling every second person while we’ve been here waiting in the queue. And if you don’t tell me that, you’re going to tell me that I must be careful of one person who is in my life causing trouble and hiding like a snake. Now I’ve told you a fortune that you were going to tell me; I don’t have to pay you fifty bucks.’

  He looked at her and let out a belly laugh. ‘I think that you are the new dokotela that Piet here has been telling me about. You are too clever to be just any customer.’

  Lily smiled and extended her hand. ‘I’m Dr Lily Winters, and it’s good to make your acquaintance, Mr Magaso.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘Piet, good to see you here. It is not often that you come to the market. Sit, sit,’ Mr Magaso said.

  ‘Today was a special day. I came with Lily and her husband, and we brought some of the Platfontein children for an outing. They have not got to experience this market before now. I think they like it,’ Piet said.

  ‘This is good to hear. You are always helping your people,’ Mr Magaso said.

  ‘Talking about helping people, we need more plants delivered to Lincoln. Can you do that today?’

  ‘Yebo,’ Mr Magaso said. ‘How many?’

  ‘About thirty. Lincoln sa
id to make sure they were the same medical strain as the last ones. He does not want any of the other plants, just the medical ones,’ Piet said.

  Mr Magaso nodded.

  ‘Are you a medicine man like Piet?’ Lily asked. ‘Or are you a shaman?’

  She felt Piet stiffen next to her and she wondered if she had just broken some traditional barrier, but she took the opportunity to speak anyway.

  ‘Yebo,’ Mr Magaso said. ‘I am both, I am a Zulu, so we are called a sangoma. I can call the spirits, and I can heal people, too.’

  ‘So, you have patients that you treat with your medicines and you make them better?’

  ‘Yes, all the time. I can see that Piet did not know you would be asking these questions of me because this is the first time I have ever seen him on the edge of his chair. Why do you ask this?’ Mr Magaso said.

  ‘No, we had not discussed it. Only that I would meet you, as I am interested in the CBD oil that we make from your plants. But I haven’t had a chance to see how it is made yet, because at the moment all my time is being consumed with patients that keep dying from meningitis and pneumonia in my clinics,’ Lily said. ‘So I am reaching out to other doctors and asking if they are having the same problems. Hoping to discuss my problems and perhaps find a solution.’

  Mr Magaso clicked his tongue. ‘Eish. That is very sad news that you are a doctor and you cannot stop them dying. Especially as you have all the modern medicines at your fingertips.’

  ‘For some reason, the medicines I’m trying aren’t working, and I’ve no idea why. I was wondering if you’ve been experiencing the same thing with the people you’ve been treating,’ she asked. ‘And it’s not just the elderly. Young people have also been dying.’

  Mr Magaso looked into the distance and squinted his eyes before he looked back at her. ‘I have had a few people who have died no matter what medicine I gave them—neither from the old traditional route nor the modern medicine that I got from a doctor in Upington. There was nothing that this ubuthi wezokwelapha could do. It was just their time to cross over to their ancestors.’

  Lily bit the inside of her lip. ‘I know that we’ve only just met, Mr Magaso, but could you tell me the names of the people who died so I can include them in my investigation?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll make you a list,’ he said as he lifted the skin off the table to get a briefcase from underneath. He took out a pad of foolscap yellow legal paper and a pen, and he began to write in a neat and concise script the names of seven people. When he was finished, he tore the paper off the pad and gave it to Lily.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Magaso, I appreciate this.’

  She could still feel the tension radiating from Piet.

  ‘Dr Lily Winters, you’re good at bargaining, but you still owe me fifty rands for spending time with me today. I will add it onto the bill for the plants when I deliver them to Piet and Lincoln at your house. Please make sure that you have the cash waiting with them.’

  Lily shook her head in wry amusement. ‘Sure, and thanks again for your list of names.’ She put the list in her bag.

  ‘Those are only the people I can remember straightaway, but I will go home and I will think hard on this, and if I remember someone else, I will write it on a paper and give it to Piet.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Magaso. One more thing before I go. When people die in a rural settlement, do you have to register their death with the authorities?’

  ‘Yebo. We have to make another paper for the new government even when someone dies. We now have more papers for the dying than we got when we were born. You must have the same in your white medicine world? Dr Hawthorne, he said there was too much paper for doctors everywhere.’

  ‘I fear this time, he was right, that there are even more papers in my world. Thank you, Mr Magaso, I never realised you knew him,’ said Lily.

  ‘Briefly, but it is good to meet you.’

  She massaged her temples, realising that the longer she stayed in South Africa and attempted to find out what was happening with the clusters, the more she found that there was a more personal connection between the communities and Ian.

  She stood up to leave. It was only then she noticed that Mr Magaso was sitting in a wheelchair. She wondered how she’d not seen that before until she remembered that his legs had been covered by his cloak of skins; they were only visible because he’d moved it to get his briefcase out.

  ‘Thank you for your help. See you next time,’ Piet said, shaking Mr Magaso’s hand. ‘Come on,’ said Piet, ‘Quintin is coming towards us; he might need our help.’

  Lily smiled at the efficient way that Piet had got her out from under Mr Magaso’s umbrella and onto the pathway.

  ‘You done?’ Quintin was by her side almost instantly. Diamond was fast asleep on his shoulder.

  David manoeuvred himself in between Piet and her. She saw Piet put an arm over his shoulder as they started walking and she grinned.

  ‘That was quite a talk you had going on,’ Quintin said. ‘Looked intense.’

  ‘Yeah, it was interest—’

  The force that hit Lily in her chest knocked her off her feet. She fell backwards, the back of her head smashing into the hard, compacted ground of the market pathway.

  She saw stars.

  Her jaw ached. Her head throbbed.

  Gulping air, she tried to breathe, but it felt like someone had hit her with a sledgehammer in the chest and was still standing on it.

  ‘Lily!’ Quintin shouted.

  His voice was muffled, and he was blurred when she looked at him. She could hear Diamond screaming.

  She lifted her hands, trying to rub her eyes to clear her vision. They were wet. Tears were natural given the intense pain she’d just experienced. She ran her hands across her face. There was a ridge running from her jawbone to near her eye—she could feel it.

  Slowly, air seeped back into her lungs. She turned her head towards where Piet had been just a second before but he was gone. She could make out the legs of a man who was running away from them; she knew they belonged to Piet, in pursuit.

  ‘Lily?’ Quintin said as he bent down and held her face in his hands. ‘Lily, stay with me.’

  She could hear Diamond crying and realised that Quintin had given the baby to David to enable him to check on her, but Diamond was shaken and scared, and David was doing what he could to comfort her.

  The noise of the market returned; it burrowed into her throbbing head, loud as a freight train. Air rushed into her chest, and she could finally breathe normally.

  She put her hand over Quintin’s. ‘I think I’m okay, just winded,’ she said as she sat up. Quintin was crouched beside her, holding her steady, ensuring she didn’t flop back down, as she lifted her knees and put her head in between them to steady the dizziness that washed over her. She felt a pain in the top of her arm on the inside.

  ‘Maybe a small concussion,’ she said, ‘going to have a bruise on my inside left arm. That hurts more than my face.’

  ‘I’m going to call an ambulance,’ Quintin said.

  ‘Might be an idea, but I would rather go home. I’ll take some paracetamol and rest with you on the couch.’ She looked down. Her T-shirt was torn at the sleeve, and her handbag that had been over her shoulder was gone. ‘How bad does it look?’

  ‘I’ve seen worse: it’s just a scratch from what I can see. We’ll need to get it clean to look properly. And I’m calling that ambulance.’

  She beckoned to David and took Diamond. She put her arm out to include him in the hug. ‘It’s okay; I’m okay. We’re all going to be just fine.’

  Tears spilled from David’s eyes. ‘I thought he killed you, Dr Lily.’ He bent down and put his arms around her.

  With Diamond’s head on one side of her and David’s on the other, Lily looked up at Quintin.

  He hugged them all together.

  ‘I’m not dead. And Diamond was nice and safe with Quintin. He held onto her tightly, so she didn’t get hurt. We’re just shaken.’
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  Diamond hiccupped and wriggled, no longer screaming, now just restless. Quintin stepped back, giving them room. David let her go, but remained close, his hand still touching her.

  ‘What was in your bag, Lily?’ Quintin asked.

  ‘Other than my purse and the money I had in it for the market, there was nothing special in there, only the list that Mr Magaso just gave me of patients. You have the Cruiser keys on you, so he’s not getting the car, and he didn’t get the house key or anything. Oh no, my mobile phone was in there. Our pictures of the face painting.’

  She could see Quintin quickly checking his front pockets.

  ‘All present here. We still have some on my phone, so all is not lost. And yours might have already loaded up to the cloud. We can cancel that phone and organise another one for you. Not like anyone can get into it, you have your screen lock on, don’t you?’

  ‘Always.’

  ‘Right, I’m calling the ambulance.’

  ‘No ambulance. I’ll be okay. But you can call Piet. Find out if he got the guy and where he is,’ Lily said.

  ‘On it,’ Quintin said.

  Quintin had his phone out and was calling, but he kept a hand on her shoulder as if he was worried she would disappear. David and Diamond clung to her still. Where she should have felt anger at what happened to her, she didn’t. But she was as mad as a snake that the incident had upset the kids’ beautiful day out. Their painted faces were now both streaked with tear marks, and clearly wiped all over both Quintin’s and her shirts, and the market magic had been stolen from them.

  ‘Sorry, Dr Lily, that man stole your bag and hurt you,’ Mr Magaso said after wheeling himself out towards them. ‘I find it so hard to believe that in the new South Africa so many people turn to crime and stealing rather than putting in an honest day’s work. This is not a reflection of who we are as a people; we are better than this.’