Kitafe

by Michael Ray

  Paul swept away a few thorns from the ground next to Graham and joined him. He looked up at through the branches of the baobab shading them, it had lost most of it’s leaves in response to the dry season with just a few optimistic green sprouts of new growth. ‘Perhaps we should never have left the river,’

  ‘Well I’m not going back,’ replied Graham, ‘not without a high-powered launch waiting for us. Any other ideas?’

  ‘We’ve been on a trail so we might as well continue. It must go somewhere.’

  ‘Famous last words. Still holding up?’

  ‘I’m surviving, though I’d rather be sitting in a large armchair, with a newspaper and a glass of malt.

  ‘I used to have an armchair until Ngai blew it up … did you go to the funeral?’

  ‘We had it in the sticks with her family then came back to the Stardust afterwards, packed the place out. Odd without you there, almost as if we were holding your wake as well. A few days later we went throughout the same ritual for Jonathon.’

  Graham drew a finger through the dust, started to write out her name then quickly dusted over it, ‘I miss her, she was a complete pain in the arse and sometimes made my life hell, but I miss her.’ He carefully lifted a tick off his leg and squeezed it between his fingernails.

  ‘That’s the trouble with trails,’ said Paul. ‘Animals keep leaving hitchhikers behind.’

  ‘Bloody things.’ Graham got up and took Rachel by the hand. ‘Up we get, love’ then he grabbed Paul by the arm and helped him as well. ‘Tell them we carry on carrying on.’

  *****

  The dust, dried grass, thorn bushes and baobabs continued and the day got hotter. They walked in silence until arriving at a fork in the track. Benjamin stopped, turned around and started shouting at Rachel.

  … ‘And now it would seem that we’re not lost after all,’ Paul said.

  Rachel came over, bowed her head low, not looking into Graham’s eyes.

  ‘Tell her she doesn’t have to bow all the bloody time.’

  ‘No swearing in front of the children.’ Paul translated and Rachel fell to the ground in front of Graham.

  ‘I told you to …’

  ‘Power old chap, you can’t impose yourself by being nice to people, even your wife. Handing out the odd sweetie is fine, but do it in the same way you’d give a dog a treat. Have you learnt nothing since you’ve been in my fine country?’

  ‘God help them if you ever get to be king.’

  ‘Have no fear on that account, kingmaker maybe, but never foolish enough to be king.’

  ‘So why did she say we were lost?’

  … ‘She says she wanted to protect us. If we go to the village, men will kill us … Ngai told her that she can never return, because the men of her village are demons and will kill her and anyone she’s with. There’s a fork in the trail and she wants us to change direction.’

  ‘And does she have any idea where it goes?’

  … ‘North.’

  ‘Why would we want to go north? There’s nothing there apart from Ngai and his chums! I think it’s all rubbish, Ngai was just trying to put her off going home.’

  Graham put a hand under one of Rachel’s arms and pulled her up. She continued to stare at the ground, whilst talking softly and quickly.

  … ‘She says that the men of her village cut off the testicles of their enemies and it makes them fearless warriors. Ngai says it is wrong to cut off men’s testicles and that the men of her village are evil demons.’

  ‘Do you know, for once I’m with Ngai. So, if they’re fearless warriors, how was she captured?’

  Rachel became louder and more animated with her response, occasionally glancing at Graham.

  … ‘They were away, taking the cattle from another village’… ‘All the cattle in the world belong to her people, but other people don’t think so and they have to take them back.’ … ‘When Ngai came there were only a few of them in the village and most of them ran into the bush. They knew the pathways and where to hide, but some of the children were in the school and didn’t escape.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Graham asked.

  ‘I thought her argument concerning the testicles was quite persuasive, but I’m not convinced about the cattle.’ Paul replied.

  ‘Come on mate, you speak their language, you must be able to persuade the village folk we’re their friends.’

  ‘With regards to the friend thing, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you. If they discover who I am, they may not be too pleased to see us. Her lot and mine have a bit of a vendetta going on.’

  ‘A bit of a vendetta? What about?’

  ‘Now’s not the time, I’ll tell you later.’

  ‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’

  ‘Because it wouldn’t have made any difference, we still have to go to the village. Just don’t tell them who I am.’

  ‘Does Rachel know a way around it?’

  … ‘She says there is a big road not far from here.’

  ‘A big road! Why didn’t she say?’

  … ‘She says she serves you, and it is not her place to speak without being spoken too.’

  ‘But … what the hell, we’ll sort it out later. Can you last a bit longer?’

  Paul managed a smile, ‘I have an option?’

  *****

  Another hour and the baobabs were joined by other trees, becoming light forest. As the trees became denser, the thorn bushes were replaced by other less violent bushes, used to spending more time in the shade. Paul was still stumbling along, becoming more reliant on his stick for support until he came to a halt and sat down on a fallen tree trunk.

  ‘Sorry old chap, time for a rest.’ He took a few deep breaths and let his head fall forward.

  Graham joined him. ‘Tell the kids to climb a tree and see if they can see anything.’

  … ‘I’ve already told them to get some water, bloody dying of thirst.’

  ‘Bit optimistic.’

  ‘Not at all, there are still a few baobabs around, they’ll know what to do.’

  Graham stood up, looked about and spotted them. Benjamin was stabbing at one with his bayonet, whilst Rachel shouted instructions. ‘They’re the ones with the fat trunks?’

  ‘Upside down trees, the trunks are full of water.’

  ‘Benjamin’s fighting one of them, it appears to be winning.’

  Graham sat down again, lifted the front of his robe up, gave it a shake and let it fall back down. ‘I’ll have the devil of a job getting the stains out of this thing.’

  ‘I’ll buy you a new one when we get back.’

  ‘Very generous of you, I’m ditching the rubber sandals as soon as I can though, bloody agony. Your brogues appear to be holding out.’

  ‘As I would expect; Crocket and Jones, they ship me a pair every year or so.’

  ‘Well they’ll need a polish.’

  Graham took of his sandals and attempted to flatten the ridges the rubber had formed in his feet by rubbing them. It didn’t work. ‘Have you seen them asleep, heard them dreaming?’

  ‘I’ve heard you dreaming as well. You sound a little fraught.’

  ‘I’ve got an Uncle who was in Singapore when it fell and ended up as slave labour on the railway. He appears perfectly normal when you meet him; it’s only when he’s asleep that the barricades come down. My Aunt has to sleep in another room; his nightmares scare the daylights out of her. Hope I’m not going the same way.’

  ‘Do you remember your dreams?’

  ‘You mean my nightmares? Yes thank you.’

  ‘You might need to exorcise them, maybe there’s someone you could talk to.’

  ‘All in good time, for now my main concern is getting these bloody sandals back on my feet again. I must remember to ask Goodyear to make their tyres a little more flexible.’

  Graham struggled for a few minutes with the rubber then having got them in place took a few tentative steps. ‘Good, all set for another hundred miles.
’

  He looked over at the kids. Benjamin had stopped attacking the tree and was standing next to it with a large leaf, whilst Rachel continued to give him instructions.

  ‘So, what do you intend to do with your family when we get back?’ Paul asked.

  ‘I’ll leave that to the shrinks.’

  ‘Psychiatrists! Here?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know, what was your degree in anyway?’

  ‘Theology.’

  ‘Theology? I thought your university career was spent sleeping with all the youngest and tenderest of undergraduates. Don’t tell me you taught them to say their prayers before you dragged them off to bed.’

  ‘Theology was how I got into university; the Church sponsored me.’

  ‘Couldn’t your family have paid? I thought they were rich.’

  ‘Rich, but wanting me back here and married. I had to get one of the Fathers from the mission school to persuade them it was a good idea.’

  ‘I didn’t know your lot went in for arranged marriages.’

  ‘We don’t normally, but my father was very keen on making a business deal and part of it included my marital bliss.’

  ‘Nice girl?’

  ‘Nice enough, though she was only sixteen at the time.’

  ‘And never been kissed?’

  ‘As it happens she had, by one of my younger brothers. It all worked out in the end. He married her, father made his deal and they all lived happily ever after. Wish they’d hurry up with the water.’

  Graham got up and had a look. Rachel stood with the leaf whilst Benjamin stuffed the hole he’d made in the trunk with grass .

  ‘You were going to tell me about the vendetta.’ Graham said.

  ‘What vendetta?’

  ‘The one you have with Rachel’s lot.’

  ‘Nothing much, it all happened a long time ago.’

  ‘What happened a long time ago?’

  ‘A bit of a dispute.’

  ‘Your lot cut off their testicles?’

  ‘Certainly not. Her tribe used to have lands extending far to the South, my Great Great Grandfather took them away … with a bit of help.’

  ‘Who from?’

  ‘The British of course; in return for our undying love and admiration, they promised us help in defeating our neighbours.’

  ‘So you were stooges, Uncle Toms.’

  ‘A little harsh I think. My family has always liked to assist our foreign friends. Five hundred years ago we were trading with the Omani Sultan; two hundred years ago the British took over the trade from them. Just look on us as being progressive realists.’ He looked up as the kids returned. ‘Now that’s clever.’

  Benjamin came over reverentially carrying a large, broad leaf with both hands. He carefully passed it down to Graham.

  ‘You first, mate’ and he carefully passed it on to Paul.

  ‘It has the bouquet of the finest Chateau Lafitte,’ Paul proclaimed, returning it.

  ‘Down your leg,’ Graham responded, drinking the rest. He smiled at Benjamin, ‘not bad, bless you mate.’

  Benjamin nodded his head solemnly and they ran back into the bush.

  ‘Where’ve they gone then?’ Graham asked.

  ‘Probably to get another round in.’

  ‘Maybe he could dig up some peanuts whilst he’s at it. You were telling me about your ancestors and their trading.’

  ‘Was I? It’s all a bit embarrassing really, mainly slaves and a bit of ivory.’

  ‘Slaves! So you were traitors to your own kind.’

  ‘Our own kind? Certainly not; our neighbours were savages, not our kind at all. We were forever catching them trying to steal our cattle, and then of course you end up with a surplus of prisoners. Naturally it’s more humane to hand them over to a passing trader than skewer them with a spear.’

  ‘Generous of you, I don’t suppose it damaged the coffers either.’

  ‘The money kept us one step ahead in the arms war, though possibly not in popularity. We’ve helped the British since they first turned up, and they’ve always helped us in return. It’s the reason I can’t get directly involved in politics; for some reason the rest of the country doesn’t trust us.’

  ‘It also explains Eton and Oxford.’

  ‘Eton? Certainly not, I went to Ampleforth.’

  ‘The Catholic place?’

  ‘The Father in charge of my mission school was a former pupil. He was very well connected and had a word in the right ear; my family could afford to pay and so off I went. Seven long years, thrown into the gentle arms of Father Ferris and his ministrations.’

  ‘And Oxford?’

  ‘Easy, the colleges like to have a few Princes on board, it helps raise standards.’

  ‘I’d have thought they’d have better taste; anyway you’re not a real Prince are you?’

  ‘As real as any other, though there are rather a lot of us. Great Grandfather had a large collection of wives, fertile bunch; I’m currently thirty-seventh in line, though I’d rather you avoid telling the Press Corp when we get back.’

  ‘I think they already know … Bloody hell!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can’t you hear?

  ‘Hear what old chap?’

  ‘Engines, we must be near the road.’ Graham leapt to his feet. ‘Can’t you hear them?’

  ‘… I hear but don’t go rushing after them waving your arms, it could be Ngai.’

  ‘Where are the kids?’

  ‘Behind you.’

  ‘How did they … never mind, tell them to keep quiet and stay with you.’

  Graham walked slowly and carefully along the track. He’d never be heard above an engine but might be seen. Four hundred yards further on he arrived at Rachel’s big road, a narrow, crushed-rock track. Apart from insects, all was quiet. Towards the South he saw dust from the lorries that had just passed but nothing else. Then distant sounds, diesel engines and the whine of transmissions, definitely coming his way. He fell back into the bush and waited.

  Blimey, British army lorries! Half a dozen at least! He stepped toward the road then stopped himself and dived back. Bloody Ngai, bloody Inquisition army.

  He waited for them to pass then returned.

  ‘Can’t go that way, Ngai’s on the move.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’

  ‘I don’t know. Tell Rachel there are demons on the road and ask if there’s another route.’

  … ’She says we can go back to the fork and head north.’

  ‘No we can’t; it’s the wrong way. Where else?’

  … ‘Unless we take the road, she doesn’t know another way around her village.’

  ‘Why can’t we … look I‘ve given up caring about my testicles. We’re going to her village and if necessary we’ll defend ourselves, but I’m not walking around in the bush for another week wondering where the next meal is coming from. Assuming there’s anyone there alive, we’re going to have a nice supper, probably fish and chips.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I’m sure, ask her how long it will take to get there.’

  … ‘She says by nightfall.’

  ‘Nightfall? That’s another two hours at least! We were only two hours away when we started.’

  … ‘She says this is a bad thing’ … ‘At night her people corral their animals and slam the gates shut’ … ‘They have dogs that bark, but they won’t leave the compound.’

  ‘They don’t have gates do they?’

  ‘Great bundles of thorns probably.’

  ‘Then we can move them out of the way.’

  … ‘They will kill us if we do. First, the dogs will attack us, and then the men will throw spears at us and hack at us with pangas and we will all die and have our …’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  … ’She says even if we stay outside next to the village we will die’… ‘Shetani lives in the bush outside the village and he will kill us. That’s why they close the corral at night.’

  �
�Who the hell is Shetani?’

  ‘Hell’s about right; Shatani’s the Devil. My grandmother used to tell me all about him, largely to stop me wandering off at night.’

  ‘So they’re not worried about keeping the lions out, they’re worried about the Devil?’

  ‘People in these parts don’t worry that much about lions, the lions worry more about them.’

  Graham stared at him. ‘She really doesn’t want to go there does she?’

  ‘She’s terrified and justifiably so. She’ll be in disgrace if she returns.’

  ‘Because Ngai kidnapped her? That’s hardly her fault.’

  ‘You can’t apply Western morals in such circumstances; they may even kill her.’

  ‘Bollocks … So what the hell do we do?’

  ‘I’ve really no idea old chap; you’re in charge.’

  ‘Don’t you want to spend a few nights being looked after in a nice cosy hut while I go and get help? Do you really want to spend the next couple of weeks stumbling through the bush, slowly starving to death, being shot at by Ngai and his mates and tripping over snakes and leopards?’

  ‘I’ll take the snakes and the leopards if it’s all the same with you.’

  ‘No it bloody isn’t. We’ll tell them you come from Warrington.’

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m black not white.’

  ‘Not a problem, I doubt they’ve met anyone from Warrington.’

  ‘And if we don’t get there by nightfall?’

  ‘We bivouac where we can then drop in first light for bacon and eggs. We’ll nip in first and if it looks safe, get the kids.’

  ‘If they haven’t run off in the meantime.’

  ‘Got a better idea?’

  ‘Very well; however, if they get creative with their pangas, I’d be grateful for a bullet through my head.’

  Twelve

  The afternoon wore on, the humidity built up and, punctuated by lengthening rest stops, their progress slowed. Dark clouds now crowned the distant escarpment and by late afternoon, lightning appeared in them, followed by long, distant, rumbles of thunder. They passed through several abandoned shambas and found a few scraggy bananas but little of any value, just detritus not worth the effort of the local monkeys. As they travelled, the clouds moved in above them and the humidity became more oppressive.

  The trees became denser, sunlight that had managed to penetrate the cloud cover now had to filter through a thickening canopy. Paul stumbled along, a hand on Graham’s shoulder for support, Benjamin, still leading the group, was now just a dimly lit smudge thirty feet ahead of them, slashing his way through the undergrowth. Then, the clouds broke into sheets of drenching rain.