The Ear, the Eye and the Arm (39 page)

BOOK: The Ear, the Eye and the Arm
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Very good. You're halfway there,
said the
mhondoro.

The wind swung Arm like a pendulum. Out, out, out he went, then back again, each time with a wider arc and more dizzying sweep. His hands — were they still holding on? They must be or he would have fallen by now. His whole body ached with the effort. He didn't have the strength to look up.

Waste of time anyway,
remarked the
mhondoro.

Out, out, out. A vast creaking. In, in, in and then
slam!
Arm struck the side of the building. His hands opened. His feet lost their purchase. The rope slithered past him as he fell. He slid along the incline of the building. Its rough surface tore his shirt and grazed his skin. Faster and faster he went until he came to rest with a jarring crash on the Gondwannan landing dock.

 

Tendai heard Rita and Kuda weeping as they crouched in the embrace of the She Elephant. He was firmly bound to the chair bolted to the floor. "Look, you don't want war with Zimbabwe," said the big woman. "Why don't I find you a nice goat to sacrifice? I won't ask a penny."

"The Big-Head Mask doesn't like goats," said Obambo Chivari. In the background, Tendai heard the scrape, scrape, scrape of a knife on a whetstone. "The Zimbabweans will never find out what happened here. They're a silly, trusting people."
Scraw, scraw
went the knife. Metal clinked as though someone were riffling through a box of instruments.

"I don't like it!" the She Elephant cried.

"Oh, she doesn't like it," said the Baboon Mask. "She wants to take a little walkie on the landing dock."

"I didn't say I'd cause trouble!"

"Very wise," Obambo Chivari said. The Gondwannan Ambassador tore open Tendai's shirt and jumped back as though he had been scalded. "What's
that?"

The She Elephant leaned forward. "Oh, it's only an old
ndoro.
The spirit mediums in the villages wear them. Supposed to have power, although if you ask me, it's only superstition. It's unusual-looking, though." The woman came closer. Tendai stared back at her with the cold, steely gaze he had learned from Father. "That's the real thing! The ancient kings wore
ndoros
made out of shell. Even then they were valuable. Why don't you sell it and let the brat go? I could help you —"

"You stupid woman! When will you get it through your head that we don't want money?" snarled Obambo Chivari. "The boy is an ideal messenger to our gods. He's the son of General Matsika. He's got the heart of a lion, and he's wearing the symbol of Zimbabwean spirituality. Nothing could be more perfect! When we break him down — and we will — his soul will glow like a hot coal in the dark country of our gods. Oh, they will certainly notice him."

Tendai shifted his steely gaze from the She Elephant to Obambo Chivari. "See that?" said the Gondwannan Ambassador. "Looks just like his father." He placed a box of instruments on a stand where Tendai could see them. The long, the jagged, the hooked surfaces picked up the light from a rack of black candles against the wall.

 

Beware!

I am a deadly mamba,

Wrestler of leopards,

A hive of hornets,

A man among men!

 

Tendai chanted the war song in his head. The warmth of the
ndoro
spread through his body. Even though he couldn't move his arms or legs, he was still a warrior. His spirit would fight them. He would never carry their loathsome messages.

"Excellent!" Ambassador Chivari said with a chuckle.

Something crashed on the landing dock. The Masks all turned at the noise. "One of the limos must have broken loose," said the Porcupine. "It's the wind. The building's really dancing tonight."

"Fix it," Obambo Chivari commanded, but at that instant an amazingly tall man in torn clothes threw open the glass door and began firing into the room.

 

Arm was shaken up by the fall, but the
mhondoro
immediately ordered him to rise.

Get moving! They're alert as a pack of hungry hyenas in there!

Arm staggered to his feet. His body throbbed with cold and scratches. He drew the Nirvana gun, threw open the door and began firing as rapidly as he could. There was no lack of targets. He brought down three Masks before they rallied to attack him. The hatred of a thousand angry animal deaths boiled out at him from the bloated spirits of the Masks. The room was filled with roars and howls and snarls and bleating — but only Arm could hear it. The spirits circled nipping at his heels. They blew their hot breath in his ears and dripped their poisonous saliva on his skin. He turned, bewildered.

Fight! Don 't let them confuse you!
shouted the
mhondoro.

Arm saw Tendai tied to a chair. Rita and Kuda crouched at the feet of the She Elephant, and the Gondwannan Ambassador stood at her side. The detective raised his gun, but something shifted in the shadows beyond the chair and captured his attention.

It was the hole in the ocean of desire Arm had noticed in the Starlight Room.

No! You fool!
the
mhondoro
shouted.

Hello, Arm,
said the Presence behind the mask leaning against the wall. This mask was large and curiously indistinct, but Arm suspected he wouldn't want to see it clearly.
You've never known peace, have you?
the Presence whispered.
Always listening to the
emotions of others, always feeling their petty
yammering on your nerves. What you need is a rest.
The Presence looked out at him like a kind old grandfather.

It's a trap!
cried the
mhondoro.

You?
said the Presence.
You squeaking little goody-goody. You can't even keep your own people in line. They don't even fear you.

Shoot the Gondwannan Ambassador!
commanded the
mhondoro.

Arm took a step forward, but he felt tired, so tired. The hole hovered before him, inviting him with its cool, restful depths. The gun slid out of his fingers to the floor. He moved toward the hole, with the voice of the
mhondoro
growing ever weaker inside him. Too late, he saw the eyes of the Big-Head Mask open. Too late he remembered what the
mhondoro
had told him earlier: it was not a hole but a mouth.

 

Thirty-nine

 

 

Tendai saw a strange man enter through the door. He was long and skinny, like a wall spider, but he was definitely a friend. The man shot three Masks with a Nirvana gun. Tendai had practiced with one at the police firing range and recognized it.

The strange person aimed his gun at Obambo Chivari and suddenly stopped. He began shaking as though he had a high fever. Please, please don't stop now, prayed Tendai. The man seemed hypnotized. He was looking beyond Tendai at the location of the Big-Head Mask. No one moved.

Tendai realized a silent struggle was taking place. He had no idea what it was, but everyone seemed to feel it. The candles spluttered, although there wasn't a breeze at this end of the room. A murmur of sound rose just beyond the level of his hearing. Tendai felt his skin prickle.

The tension snapped. The man dropped his gun and fell to the floor. His head struck with a terrible crack, but Tendai was certain he was already dead before he reached the ground.

Before he could despair at this turn of events, something happened inside his chest. The heat spread out from the
ndoro
a hundred, a thousand times stronger than before. The strength of it frightened him, but it was a clean fear such as one might have before a magnificent force of nature — a volcano, for example.

You're a little young for a spirit medium, but you'll have to do,
said a voice inside him.

P-please,
stammered Tendai.
Who

who are you?

The
mhondoro,
my young warrior. Aha! I recognize this
ndoro.
It was worn by
Monomatapa himself. It feels good to get inside
it again.

Tendai was filled with wonder. The
mhondoro!
And it chose him! He was so filled with awe, he almost forgot the desperate situation he was in, but the tribal spirit soon woke him up.

No time to pat yourself on the back. You know what they're up to here, don't you?

Yes, sir,
said Tendai.

I
have to act through humans, as spirits
always do, so both of us will have to look for a
weak spot in the Gondwannan defenses. If the worst happens, you're going to die. You do know that.

Tendai swallowed. Yes, he knew it, but that was what warriors sometimes had to do. The important thing was to die for the right thing, and with dignity.

That's right, little lion. I can see I made the right choice.

Tendai's heart swelled with pride. He looked up at the encircling Masks. They were apparently waiting for the effects of the Nirvana gun to wear off the Gondwannans who had been shot by the strange man.

"Let them wake up fully," said Obambo Chivari. "We can't do this ceremony with too many missing."

As the moments ticked past, Tendai caught a glimpse of what the
mhondoro
really was. It — for the spirit was both male and female — stretched back to the first human who raised his — or her — shaggy head from the immediate business of finding food. She — or he — became aware of the land. He saw the good red soil and clean water flowing through it, the plants that sprang up and the animals that bounded through them. And he knew that this was where he belonged. This was
home.
Ever since that time, all the men and women who had cared for the land added their voices to the
mhondoro.
Tendai saw, in a distant, shadowy way, the country of Zimbabwe with its millions of souls. As his attention was drawn in from the larger landscape to the room, his vision became sharper. He saw Kuda sitting on the floor with Rita's arms around him. His little brother was planning to trip the Mask next to him. Rita was thinking about how to reach the Nirvana gun.

Last of all, Tendai came to the She Elephant.
Her?
he said.
She can't be one of your people.

They are all my children,
said the
mhondoro.

With the tribal spirit guiding him, he saw the She Elephant as she once had been: a fat, unwanted child. Nobody cared for her. Nobody was her friend. Ignorant, graceless and rough, she ran away from home. "The only way you get by in this world," said the young She Elephant, "is to bash people before they bash you."

Tendai saw her build an empire in Dead Man's Vlei. The
vlei
people were her real family. She didn't lure them out there: they came willingly. She bullied and exploited them, but to the mournful, unwanted
vlei
people she represented
home.

He gazed at her in wonder. It was difficult to understand the feeling the
mhondoro
had about her. The closest he could come to describing it was:
she belongs.
At that instant, the She Elephant noticed him watching her.

Her eyes widened. Tendai felt a smile break out on his face. It was a good, friendly,
belonging
kind of smile. The big woman shuddered and turned away.

"It's time for the ceremony," said Obambo Chivari. Reverently, the Gondwannans carried the Big-Head Mask from the shadows to place it before Tendai. The darkness flowed along with it. Even in the light of the candles, its form seemed incomplete. Tendai could focus on a part — the little teeth or scraps of scalp — and another area would collapse. When he shifted his eyes, the mask seemed whole, and yet an instant later something else would grow dim.

It isn't completely in this world,
explained the
mhondoro. The ceremony will give it substance.

BOOK: The Ear, the Eye and the Arm
12.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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