Wizard of the Crow (91 page)

“Stop or else you will contract his illness. One victim of the evil is enough for a day. My walking stick has divined its source and will tell me all …”

A.G. stopped coughing, only too glad to obey, as the Limping Witch now turned her attention to the patient.

“You, listen to me with both your ears,” she said, jabbing the man’s throat with her stick. “I want to speak to the Devil hiding in your voice box.” Kamltl forced himself to look intently at the eyes of the witch, and he thought he saw or imagined he saw her wink. But the runny eyes and the twitching lips repulsed him. Still, he listened to her intonation.

She went on through the entire catechism, with him now almost suspended in wonder and disbelief.

“Now I have ordered the Devil in you to speak to me through you,” said the Limping Witch. “Speak, Devil!”

“IF!” Kamltl barked tentatively, as if challenging her to clear his doubts.

“It is you …” the Limping Witch responded, as if accepting the challenge.

“And I …” he said, and stopped.

“Who were …” said the Limping Witch.

“In the prairie …” Kamltl said, then paused.

“Dancing …” the witch replied.

“Naked …” said Kamltl, to shock her.

“Under the moonlight, the way witches do …” she said, as if to imply that he had failed to shock her.

“Then lead me out of this prison of IF … OH … IF … IF ONLY …” Kamltl said, the Devil inside him begging for release, seduced as he now was by the allure of the Limping Witch.

She turned her eyes to A.G. and Njoya, who were mesmerized by the miracle they had just witnessed. This Limping Witch had done what no other sorcerer, despite their spears, knives, needles, razor blades, and threats, had been able to do: extract a word other than
if
from the patient. She had managed to put the fear of the Lord in the mean Devil lodged in his voice box. They now eagerly waited to hear what the Limping Witch had to say. “If I am to get more out of him, you must bring him to my shrine, from which my medicines derive their potency. Do so whenever it suits you.”

Njoya and A.G. conferred in a corner. A.G. then left the room. Kahiga now entered. When A.G. returned, he did not stay outside but came right in.

“We have been told to go to your shrine right now,” A.G. told the Limping Witch. “You must fully cure him without delay. Then we shall bring you and him back here.”

Kamltl could not believe his ears. All his doubts about the witch had vanished. Nyawlra has effected a miracle, he said to himself, and it was with difficulty that he held back tears of joy, gratitude, and admiration.

The Limping Witch refused to travel by Land Rover.

“Oh, so we are not going far?” asked the three policemen in unison.

“Not very far,” she said. “Over there,” she added, pointing to the horizon.

“Yonder where the earth meets the sky?” asked Njoya.

“Yes,” said the Limping Witch.

“But that is a long way from here,” said Kahiga.

“It is never a long way to a person’s home,” she said. “My power comes from my contact with this soil,” she added, prodding the ground with her walking stick. “I never allow anything to come between me and Mother Earth. Why don’t you go ahead? If you get there before I do, just wait for me.”

“Oh, no,” the police trio said in unison.

“Our orders are that our eyes must not at any time stray away from you,” added A.G.

“When not on foot, what carries you from here to there?” Njoya asked.

“A
mkokoteni.
A donkey cart. Anything pulled by a living being with feet touching the earth.”

“You want us to travel on human- and donkey-pulled carriages?” asked the police trio in unison.

“Donkey carts and
mkokoteni
are difficult to find at this time of the day” added Njoya.

For a response she simply pointed at the writing on her garments:
shauri yako.
My problem? Njoya seemed to ask himself but ignored the insolence.

A.G. guarded the Limping Witch and the “prisoner” while Kahiga and Njoya went in the Land Rover to look for the carriages.

They had not gone very far when they saw a donkey cart and a human-pushed
mkokoteni,
both full of goods, but they decided to hire the carriages.

The Limping Witch now demanded that she and Kamltl ride in the
mkokoteni
while Njoya, Kahiga, and A.G. rode in the donkey cart with the Land Rover following in the rear, gas fumes being very bad for the spirits of magic. The convoy of
mkokoteni,
donkey cart, and Land Rover crept along, slowing down traffic, as the drivers of other vehicles honked with impatience and frustration at its snail’s pace. Above, in the sky, helicopters monitoring the procession of protesting youth pouring into the grounds of the Parliament buildings made for noise and commotion.

Just then a Mercedes-Benz rushed toward them from the opposite direction, the driver ordering the donkey to stop, which halted the entire convoy. It was Kaniürü. Thereafter, nothing but chaos ensued. The Limping Witch immediately ordered the two
mkokoteni
drivers to take off, which they did as if possessed of wings. In pursuit of the
mkokoteni,
the donkey cart threw off Kahiga, Njoya, and A.G. The Land Rover picked up Kahiga. Njoya commandeered a bicycle and A.G. followed on foot, running, calling on Njoya to let him get on the bike.

The
mkokoteni
had the advantage of being able to weave in and out of traffic; the Mercedes-Benz had trouble pursuing it down the narrow two-lane road. The donkey cart blocked the Land Rover. Pedestrians on the sidewalks wondered why a Mercedes-Benz was pursuing and honking at a pushcart, a donkey braying at a Mercedes-Benz while defecating, a Land Rover honking at the donkey cart, a cyclist ringing bells at the Land Rover, and a policeman running and shouting,
Simama!
They could not figure out whether he was saying stop or calling out to somebody by that name. A.G. was the first casualty of the chase. He stepped in donkey dung, slipped, and fell, passersby describing it as a mighty fall.

The speeding
mkokoteni
went past the railway, crossing just in time before the red barrier came down and blocked the Mercedes-Benz. “Run for it to Maritha and Mariko’s place,” the Limping Witch told the Wizard of the Crow. “Don’t ask any questions. We’ll talk later.”

The Wizard of the Crow got out and ran, even as the
mkokoteni
sped off. When the Mercedes-Benz finally crossed the rails, Kaniürü just spotted the
mkokoteni
in the distance. Go get it, he told the chauffeur.

It was later said that a donkey had stood in the middle of the road, impeding traffic until the Limping Witch and the Wizard of the Crow had safely fled. But other rumors said no, all the donkeys of Santa-maria had lined up and down the road, defecating and urinating, making it so slippery that vehicles could hardly move, and when the police tried to pursue the two they slid all over the place and eventually resorted to commandeering whatever bicycles were to be had.

“Was that true?” Vinjinia asked her husband, Tajirika, the evening of the following day.

“Leave rumors to rumormongers,” Tajirika said irritably, for he was not happy about the news that the Limping Witch and the Wizard of the Crow had escaped. His evolving monetary policy involved the production of foreign currency, naturally grown dollars, and it all depended on the Wizard of the Crow doing the will of the Buler. He feared that the wizard’s flight might put his governorship of the Central Bank at risk.

Vinjinia was a little crestfallen: so the news of the escape of the Wizard of the Crow was just rumor r

“The bit about his escape is true,” Tajirika said. “But he was helped by the Limping Witch, not asses, whether one or many”

“A limping what?”

“One of the sorcerers. The sorcerer’s left leg was shorter than the right, and so the nickname,” Tajirika explained, and then paused. “Vinjinia, your suggestion that we openly advertise for witches and sorcerers to come for a national achievement test at the State House was brilliant. It would have almost certainly borne fruit but for the Limping Witch.”

“A man?”

“No! A woman, and she and the wizard have vanished!”

“How is that possible? I mean, their escape?”

“I can only tell you what I heard Kaniürü teil the Ruler when accusing the guards of negligence, asserting their unfitness to wear the uniform of loyal officers. But you know that the nosy one is a liar and with him it is difficult to tell fact from fiction.”

“How does Kaniürü come into this?” Vinjinia asked, genuinely puzzled.

Even though he was tired, Tajirika managed to recap the story.

That the Limping Witch had escaped made Vinjinia happy, for she was most likely one of the women who had helped her in her time of need. She was also pleased with herself for having rejected the temptation to betray Nyawlra. But what made her even happier was knowing that she was in solidarity with people she had once thought evil, people who, despite her disagreement with their politics, she now saw as humane and generous at heart. She certainly preferred them to the beastly and mean-spirited Kaniürüs of Aburlria. Now she was elated at having worked out, all her own idea, how best to thank Nyawlra.

She went over what she had done. She had gleaned all the information about the condition and whereabouts of the Wizard of the Crow from Tajirika during shared meals and pillow talk, and had imparted it to Maritha.

It was Vinjinia who told Maritha that the Wizard of the Crow was captured in a bar and that he had contracted the malady of words after being hauled to the State House. It seemed to her, she told Maritha, that it was only the males of the species who were susceptible to the disease. She told her about the national sorcery achievement test and that its object was to cure the wizard. Vinjinia did not once hint to Maritha what she was to do with the information, for she of course knew that Maritha would relay every bit of it to Nyawlra. Yet she had not foreseen the escape. She had simply intended to put Nyawlra in touch with the Wizard of the Crow. Her machinations, it seemed, had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.

Still, she was irked that Kaniürü had somehow managed to insert himself into the events, and in this she and her husband were in complete agreement.

“Can you believe that despite his interference in matters that did
not concern him and his failure to capture the runaway
mkokoteni,
Kaniürü has been entrusted by the Ruler to bring in the fugitives?”

“That man! I don’t know what it will take to stop him from benefiting from his evil ways,” Vinjinia said. “What about the three policemen? How did they explain their behavior?”

“A.G., Kahiga, and Njoya have joined the ranks of the jobless,” Tajirika said.

The news gnawed at her. “How could the Ruler dismiss the three who had served him so loyally?”

“The Ruler is never wrong,” Tajirika hastened to say. “I am sure he would not have dismissed the officers without good reason.”

“True,
Haki ya Mungu,
when we went back to the State House we found that Kaniürü had already poisoned the atmosphere with lies. He even claimed that he found us surrounded by tourists with cameras clicking away at the sight of policemen riding a donkey cart, a scene that gave the impression that the Ruler was so broke he could only afford carts for his police force!

“They dismissed us from our jobs and told us to get out of government housing immediately. Stray dogs, even when they have snatched something, are treated more kindly by passersby than we were treated by those we had faithfully served all our lives.

“I don’t know about the other two, but I had no land or house or any property that I could call my own. In discussing the options before us, we realized, too late, that we had no skills other than those of arresting, torturing, and taking people to court. The only jobs that offered possibilities were the private security firms that were mushrooming throughout the country. With the much-flaunted IMF-brokered prosperity confined to a few, the houses of the rich had become luxurious prisons. But imagine the shame of two ex-superintendents and one ex—assistant police commissioner reduced to guarding people’s houses with a terrier’s leash in one hand and a
knock-berry club in the other! Or simply armed with bows and arrows?

“We sat down by the roadside near the same railway crossing, wondering why fate had dealt us such a blow. Where are we to gor Why has good fortune abandoned us when we most need it? Who was this Limping Witch?” Kahiga moaned.

The Limping Witch and the Wizard of the Crow are one and the same, a worn-down A.G. told Njoya and Kahiga solemnly. A disagreement erupted among them, Kahiga and Njoya maintaining that the Limping Witch and the Wizard of the Crow were different and distinct entities. A.C. tried to explain that there were times when the wizard appeared as female and other times as male. The Limping Witch is the other face of the wizard, and the captive was simply his shadow. He told them of the night he had chased two human-shaped apparitions in the prairie but that when they jumped over the rock cleft as two—”You remember the rock and the bush where we saw the plants with the dollar-shaped leaves?”—they became one person …

No sooner were the dollar-shaped leaves mentioned than Kahiga snapped to attention. “I say, let us go and look for the Wizard of the Crow, be he the Limping Witch or not, a woman or not, a shadow or not,” he said excitedly.

What? After what the Ruler has done to us?” asked A.C., surprised by his own critical tone.

“Yes, a donkey expresses gratitude by its kicks,” Njoya observed.

“There, you have said it,” Kahiga said. “Remember the holes we dug night and day in the prairie? Did we ever get anything for our effort? We don’t even know what they did with the plants. And now this? Dismissals based on brazen lies! No. We are going to look for the Wizard of the Crow, all right, but this time for ourselves. See? We tell him about our jobless misery. We will pray to him to tell us the secret of growing money on trees. We don’t need to know about the dollar-producing type. For us a Burl-producing plant will do,” Kahiga noted as the other two nodded in agreement.