Fred quietly. “I don’t want our parents coming here to take us all back before Nokokulu has had a chance to do whatever it is she thinks she must do. I owe her that much after betraying her in my head, thinking the worst of her.”
This was a longer, more serious speech than I’d ever heard from Fred. It made me feel sort of proud of him.
“I agree with Fred,” I said, dismissing the pleading look from Madillo. “But we still have the problem that Mum and Dad are expecting us home tonight. We’ll have to tell them we’re staying over at Fred’s again.”
“What about us?” Madillo asked. “We’re not beyond the reach of the Man-Beast. Chiti may be protected but we’re not. That’s why she didn’t want us to come.”
It was strange to hear her call Fred “Chiti”. Neither Fred nor I commented. She had a strange look about her.
“Don’t think like that,” I said firmly. “She’s just confused by her regrets. By tomorrow she will have met her dreaded Man-Beast in her sleep and sorted things out with him. Then we can all go home and sort out the real demons.”
“But why does she think he’s taken Aunt Kiki? She was living in Lusaka. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed. “She’s just upset and it’s made her muddled.”
“My phone battery is flat,” interrupted Madillo, “and if I make the call I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from asking Mum to come and collect us straight away.”
Which was her way of saying that I had to be the one who phoned. As usual.
Mum sounded tired when she picked up the phone. She had been called out to the clinic during the night and was still half asleep so she didn’t ask any questions – which was lucky, because I’m sure if she’d been properly awake she would have known from the sound of my voice that something was not quite right.
I had gone to stand by the car to make the call and when I came back to the tents I saw that Fred and Madillo had wandered off to look at the strange lying down baobab tree.
“Hey!” I shouted, running over to them.
“How did it go?” Madillo asked.
“It’s done, that’s all. And you two were supposed to be waiting here in case Nokokulu woke up.”
“She’s still asleep. Can’t you hear?” Madillo said.
She was right – the snores were rumbling again.
Not for long though.
“Ha!” came Nokokulu’s voice from her tent. “Ha! You talking about me, Chiti and your two twin friends? What are you up to?”
It was as if, even though she had been fast asleep, she had heard every word we’d said.
“We’re going to climb the tree, Nokokulu,” Fred said quickly.
“And the lightning?” she said.
At that moment, the large black cloud moved across the sun, blocking it out almost completely.
FRED
The Purple-striped Burrowing Praying Mantis
I had almost forgotten about the lightning. Almost. I know Bul-Boo doesn’t believe that Nokokulu has magical powers but it was not a coincidence that just as she said the word, the cloud blocked out the sun. I sometimes think my great-granny likes scaring me. She said to Dad once that it’s good for children to be scared now and again, otherwise they’ll think there’s nothing to be scared of.
There is no danger whatsoever of me growing up imagining that there is nothing in this world to be afraid of.
Last Sunday Nokokulu brought a wooden coffin-shaped box into the kitchen and put it on the table. She told me and Joseph that inside it was a very small dead ancestor and that if we dared open it we would be cursed for infinity. I stared at the small coffin (it was only big enough to hold a cat) and knew that I wouldn’t ever touch it. I didn’t even want my breath to touch the outside of it in case it thought I was approaching with the thought of opening it.
Joseph is different from me. He doesn’t talk much and he doesn’t really believe in things he can’t see.
Nokokulu looked at him. She knows what he’s like.
This was a longer, more serious speech than I’d ever heard from Fred. It made me feel sort of proud of him.
“I agree with Fred,” I said, dismissing the pleading look from Madillo. “But we still have the problem that Mum and Dad are expecting us home tonight. We’ll have to tell them we’re staying over at Fred’s again.”
“What about us?” Madillo asked. “We’re not beyond the reach of the Man-Beast. Chiti may be protected but we’re not. That’s why she didn’t want us to come.”
It was strange to hear her call Fred “Chiti”. Neither Fred nor I commented. She had a strange look about her.
“Don’t think like that,” I said firmly. “She’s just confused by her regrets. By tomorrow she will have met her dreaded Man-Beast in her sleep and sorted things out with him. Then we can all go home and sort out the real demons.”
“But why does she think he’s taken Aunt Kiki? She was living in Lusaka. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed. “She’s just upset and it’s made her muddled.”
“My phone battery is flat,” interrupted Madillo, “and if I make the call I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from asking Mum to come and collect us straight away.”
Which was her way of saying that I had to be the one who phoned. As usual.
Mum sounded tired when she picked up the phone. She had been called out to the clinic during the night and was still half asleep so she didn’t ask any questions – which was lucky, because I’m sure if she’d been properly awake she would have known from the sound of my voice that something was not quite right.
I had gone to stand by the car to make the call and when I came back to the tents I saw that Fred and Madillo had wandered off to look at the strange lying down baobab tree.
“Hey!” I shouted, running over to them.
“How did it go?” Madillo asked.
“It’s done, that’s all. And you two were supposed to be waiting here in case Nokokulu woke up.”
“She’s still asleep. Can’t you hear?” Madillo said.
She was right – the snores were rumbling again.
Not for long though.
“Ha!” came Nokokulu’s voice from her tent. “Ha! You talking about me, Chiti and your two twin friends? What are you up to?”
It was as if, even though she had been fast asleep, she had heard every word we’d said.
“We’re going to climb the tree, Nokokulu,” Fred said quickly.
“And the lightning?” she said.
At that moment, the large black cloud moved across the sun, blocking it out almost completely.
FRED
The Purple-striped Burrowing Praying Mantis
I had almost forgotten about the lightning. Almost. I know Bul-Boo doesn’t believe that Nokokulu has magical powers but it was not a coincidence that just as she said the word, the cloud blocked out the sun. I sometimes think my great-granny likes scaring me. She said to Dad once that it’s good for children to be scared now and again, otherwise they’ll think there’s nothing to be scared of.
There is no danger whatsoever of me growing up imagining that there is nothing in this world to be afraid of.
Last Sunday Nokokulu brought a wooden coffin-shaped box into the kitchen and put it on the table. She told me and Joseph that inside it was a very small dead ancestor and that if we dared open it we would be cursed for infinity. I stared at the small coffin (it was only big enough to hold a cat) and knew that I wouldn’t ever touch it. I didn’t even want my breath to touch the outside of it in case it thought I was approaching with the thought of opening it.
Joseph is different from me. He doesn’t talk much and he doesn’t really believe in things he can’t see.
Nokokulu looked at him. She knows what he’s like.
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