The Final Adversary (26 page)

“We came on April fourth, so we’ve been on the station five months.” She leaned her head back against the side of the house and closed her eyes. Fatigue had etched small lines on her forehead, and she had lost weight. Finally she said without opening her eyes, “It seems like a lot longer than that.”

Katie nodded. “Yes, it does, Irene. Time’s not the same here as it is back home.”

She set the notebook aside, got up from the chair she’d brought outside, and walked to the gourd where they kept water. It was tepid and flat, and no matter how much she drank, she always seemed to be thirsty. She swallowed some more, then sought the shady side of the house.

The afternoon sun was a huge pale globe in the sky, throwing heat that would have turned her skin lobster red if she hadn’t protected it. Shortly after arriving at the station, she had suffered a mild case of sunstroke because she’d forgotten her helmet.

Irene, too, had learned to be careful. She had visited a sick woman in a neighboring village, and discovered the next day that the African sun was not very kind to the white women as she removed layers of skin from her arms. The sun and the heat meant little to the Africans but was a constant enemy to the white missionaries.

“Time really
isn’t
the same here, is it, Irene?” Katie said again. “I mean, the days go by, but there’s nothing to really
mark
them, like at home. Here we just get up and cook early to avoid the heat, study the language, and visit the sick. But it’s like being on a boat that goes down a river with trees on either side. Every day you go by more of the country, but the scenery doesn’t change.”

Irene opened her eyes. “I guess that’s right. We never see anybody except the villagers. And they do pretty much the same thing all the time.” She laughed. “You know, I thought our biggest problem would be wild animals or getting eaten by cannibals—but the deadliest is pure old
boredom!
”

They had seen no one except the natives of the village for three weeks. Gardner had come through in May, headed for the coast for supplies, but had pushed on after checking on their needs. On his return trip, he only stayed overnight.

Katie recalled their conversation. “Barney and me have been havin’ a time of it,” he said. “I took malaria, and after I got over it, Barney went down. Don’t you ladies go off the station till you have your first round of malaria.” When Irene had suggested they might not get it, he had said, “No hope of that, my dear. Everybody gets malaria. Just stay close to the station till you get well.”

“How’s Barney?” Katie had asked.

“He’s a tough ’un, Barney is!” Gardner laughed. “Got all the natives talkin’ about him. They ain’t never seen many white men, see, and they ain’t never seen one that could out-walk ’em. But Barney can! Oh, my word, he can! So they come up with a name for him—
Kwi Balee.
Means ‘White Antelope.’ Oh, he’s got ’em thinkin’ he’s the big rooster,
right enough. Made a few good shots with his rifle, bringin’ down game, and they all say he can’t miss, and he hits five monkeys with every shot!”

But aside from those two short visits, the women had only each other to talk to. The Pahn language was difficult for Irene to grasp and she would have given up but for Katie’s prodding. From dawn till dusk they worked hard, going through their daily routine—housekeeping, cooking, washing, studying, teaching the children, ministering to the sick, and holding services. The deadly boredom of the “dailys” ate into their resistance and drained their strength.

Nothing had prepared them for this drastic change. The glamour of sacrificing all to bring the gospel to an unreached people on another continent had soon vanished.

Irene got up and checked the beans. “These are about done. Do we still have some of that meat Chief Tenki sent?”

“No, but let’s finish what we got from Mutali. I still don’t know what it is.”

“It tastes like old rope,” Irene grimaced. Then she brightened. “Let’s go see Chief Tenki. I’ll bet he’d give us something better than this.”

Chief Tenki’s tribe was located about fifteen miles from Maoli. Katie and Bestman had visited the chief, and to her delight had discovered that he was a Christian—a convert of one of the early missionaries who had died and was buried in his village. Tenki was a short muscular man of fifty, and could speak English fairly well. He had been delighted to see Katie, and had begged her to move to his village. When she had been unable to promise that, he had insisted she send another missionary as soon as possible.

“We have very bad witch doctor!” Tenki had said. “His name Maioni. Very bad man! Bring curse on many people here!”

His plea had disturbed Katie.
Could the open door to Chief Tenki’s village be a call from God?
She shared it with Irene, who said, “As long as we stay together, it’s all right with
me.” But Katie had been unable to arrive at a firm decision, so nothing had been done.

****

Two days later, Katie was teaching hymns to the children—her favorite activity—when Chief Mawali and Bestman came hurrying toward them, accompanied by a stranger. Both the chief and Bestman appeared very disturbed.

“What’s wrong?” Katie jumped up.

“Bad thing!” Bestman said. “This man from Chief Tenki’s village. Very bad thing!”

“Tell me, Bestman!”

“This man, he say Chief Tenki in bad trouble! He say chief die soon.”

“Is he sick?” Katie asked with alarm.

“No! Witch doctor, he go kill chief! This man, he say Chief Tenki say Mammy come quick.”

“I’ll go at once!”

When Bestman interpreted, Chief Mawali shook his head, gesturing violently and speaking with great force.

“Chief Mawali say you no go, Mammy.”

“Why not?”

“Witch doctor strong man—very strong! Chief, his brother, he die. Maioni, witch doctor, say Chief Tenki put evil eye on him. People lock up chief. Him die soon.”

Katie set her jaw. “I’m going to Chief Tenki.” She whirled and ran to her house, calling as she entered, “Irene, I’ve got to leave!”

She explained the situation while she packed, but Irene insisted on going along. “I don’t like to be alone, Katie,” she said.

“It won’t be for long,” Katie said. “One of us has to stay here.” She didn’t add that the trip was potentially dangerous, but said only, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You get all the Christians praying for me.” With that she kissed Irene and ran out of the house. She found Bestman alone.

“Where’s Chief Mawali?”

“Chief, he scared,” Bestman nodded. “Nobody else go, Mammy.”

“Will you take me to Chief Tenki, Bestman?”

The tall African nodded, surprised. “Bestman always go with Mammy.”

“Bless you, Bestman,” Katie smiled. “We go now!”

****

As they walked into the cluster of thatched huts, an overwhelming oppression hit Katie. It was not doubt, or even fear. This was different.

The deeper she went into the village, the more suffocating the assault on her spirit became. She had never encountered such heaviness. Though the sun was overhead, there was a sense of darkness she knew was not physical. A strange silence hung over the village—no children laughing, no murmur of voices. Even the dogs were silent as she and Bestman walked slowly toward a large hut.

Katie could almost hear the palpitation of her heart. Her knees trembled, and she wanted to flee the miasma of fear and darkness that seemed to hover over the silent village.

When they neared the hut, Bestman whispered, barely able to speak, “Witch doctor, he come, Mammy.”

What a heroic and courageous thing for Bestman to come,
Katie thought.
He knows all about the fear, yet he came!

Suddenly a grotesque figure burst from one of the huts. His long mop of hair, smeared with palm oil and cow dung, hung over a face deeply etched with tattoo scars. Almost naked except for the string of leopard’s teeth around his neck, pouches of juju and fetish medicine hanging from his waist, and several white tails of bishop monkeys trailing behind him, the man was the strangest creature Katie had ever seen!

Her pulse throbbed in her ears, but by sheer iron will, Katie did not blink or show a sign of fear as the man came toward her, shrieking, his face contorted with rage. A line
of men, armed with bows and arrows and ancient muskets, formed a circle around Katie, Bestman, and the witch doctor.

The witch doctor screamed and several times advanced to within a few feet of Katie, shaking bones in her face. She knew instinctively that he was trying to break her nerve, but she stood perfectly still, watching him without a word or sign of fear.

But there
was
fear—for evil, as palpable as black smoke, hung in the air! A sickening, filthy fear that gnawed at Katie’s mind, seeking entrance—like a wild animal intent on killing the person inside a house. She could
smell
the evil! An odor of death and corruption filled her nostrils and throat.

Lord, I can’t stand this!
she cried out in her spirit.
You are master of this devilish thing. Give me your strength, Lord Jesus!

As she prayed, the darkness that tried to smother her spirit lifted, and she spoke with authority. “I come in the name of Jesus Christ, the son of the Almighty God!”

At the name of Jesus, Maioni put his hands over his ears and ran around, howling like a dog.

Katie cried out again, “In the name of Jesus, Satan, I bind you and every demon in this place!”

As though driven by an unseen force, Maioni ran screaming out of the circle, knocking over some of the armed men in his mad dash to get away. The villagers stood stock-still, then turned to watch Katie with intense curiosity.

“Take me to your chief!” she commanded, and one of the men motioned her to follow him.

“Come with me, Bestman!” she urged.

When they drew near, the guide stopped and pointed to the house, saying something to Bestman.

“Come, Mammy!” Bestman said.

Inside, a fire had been kindled in the center of the mud floor, and the acrid smoke, pungent with a strange odor, made Katie’s eyes water. Then she saw the piles of dried red peppers in the middle of the fire.

“Where is Chief Tenki?” she asked, her eyes smarting from the smoke.

“I get him, Mammy!” Bestman leaped to a ladder that led to an opening in the roof and disappeared. Soon he was back with the chief across his shoulders.

Katie gasped. “Bring him outside!”

Bestman obeyed and laid the chief down.

“Water!” Katie cried, and when no one moved, she stood to her feet and pointed to the native who had led them to the chief. “You! Get water now!”

The man stared at her, not moving, but when Bestman translated her words, the native’s face filled with fear and he barked a command. Immediately a woman appeared with a jug of water.

Katie began bathing Chief Tenki’s face with her wet handkerchief. “How long has he been up there?” she asked. Bestman inquired, and when he spoke, she echoed his words in astonishment.

“Three days!” She had grown nauseated and faint during the few minutes she had been in the lower part of the hut. What must Tenki have suffered in the torrid heat of that smoke-filled attic!

Katie had Bestman quench the fire in the chief’s house, and as it grew darker, they moved him back inside. None of the villagers would help, of course; they were too frightened of Maioni. Only one person would enter the house, and that was Tenki’s wife, Rineea, a short, plump woman. She was as terrified of the witch doctor as the rest, but chose to die with her husband if necessary.

Katie Sullivan was not a woman prone to anger, but for the next few hours as she and Bestman sat over the emaciated form of the chief, giving him small sips of water and bathing his shrunken form, a rage such as she had never known began to well up in her. It grew so intense she became frightened, and prayed,
Oh, dear Lord! Help me not to hate Maioni! You died for him; therefore he is precious in your sight! Help me
to have compassion and love! Take away my anger and the hatred that I feel for him!

As she prayed, she grew calm, but the anger was still there—this time at the forces of evil and superstition that bound the simple people, bringing death with it.

Bestman came close to her as she prayed, and when she looked at him, he said quietly, “Witch doctor come soon, Mammy.”

“I know, Bestman,” she answered. “But our God is stronger than the witch doctor.”

Bestman studied her face carefully, his face breaking out in a smile as her words seemed to bring encouragement. He said no more, but all through that long night, Katie could hear him calling on God. She knew that Maioni would not give up. He had run away, but he would come back, fully intent on destroying them all, for only by doing that could he keep the people in fear and bondage.

And he did come, though it was not in the morning, but in that darkest part of the night—the hours just before dawn. Katie heard the sound of voices and looked over at Chief Tenki, who was now awake. “Chief, do you believe that Jesus is strong?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “He bring white woman to save me.”

“Then we must go out and face the evil one. Help him, Bestman.” Bestman stepped forward and assisted the chief to his feet. Katie stepped through the door and the two followed her. The night was dark, but burning torches threw flickering shards of light over the scene—more terrible than Katie could imagine!

By the light of the torches, she could see the armed warriors, their teeth filed to sharp points and the madness blazing in their eyes. They were inflamed with drink.
Maioni has seen to that!
she thought. They screamed, “Kill the white woman! Kill the white woman!” It was a deafening roar. Katie remained calm, drawing strength from the Holy Spirit
as she stood with the two men. She watched the mob work itself into a frenzy, their bodies quivering from head to foot with almost uncontrollable rage.

Maioni was like a demented man, running up to shake his fist at Katie, then back to the maddened warriors. He was the personification of evil, and Katie knew he would not be satisfied with less than the death of all four of those who stood against him.