The Witchdoctor's Bones

by Lisa de Nikolits

  The group walked up the wide, empty street. The sun had set, and the evening was filled with a dusky light. Festive German beer taverns and turreted European hotels lined the way but Helen was single-mindedly focused on her task. “I hear you’re our resident expert on all things African,” Helen tried to ease into the conversation with flattery.

  “I’m not an expert,” he said shortly, refusing to look at her. “Jono’s the expert, you heard him. He knows about everything, whatever you want, ask him.”

  “I have asked him,” Helen lied, “and he doesn’t know, so I thought I’d ask you. I know you’ve read a lot of stuff.”

  He did not respond, so she abandoned her efforts to charm him and got to the point. “Rydell, how would I go about putting a spell or a curse on someone?”

  He snorted. “Oh, I see,” he chortled, his plump cheeks babyish. “No wonder you didn’t ask Jono, you want to do something bad.”

  Helen flushed red. “Whatever,” she said shortly, “do you know or don’t you?”

  “You’d have to become a sorcerer first,” he said, thinking she was already halfway there. He did not care for Helen and her brittle anger.

  “That’s not very practical advice,” Helen commented. “Come on, Rydell, there has to be a way.”

  “You’re so desperate,” he remarked, as they walked up the hill. “She who is desperate has given away her power.”

  Helen clenched her jaw. “I was wrong to ask you,” she said, through gritted teeth. “You haven’t been helpful at all.”

  “Here’s something that might be more up your alley,” he said. “There once was a woman who wanted to put a spell on her husband, so he’d love no one else but her. The witchdoctor told her he needed three hairs from a lion’s eyebrow for that. The woman came back with the hairs. The witchdoctor told her if she could put a spell on a lion so that he didn’t wake up while she was snipping off his eyebrows, she could put a spell on her husband just as easily.”

  He snorted again and glanced at her to see if she had gotten the point but Helen scowled.

  “I don’t want them, him, whatever, to fall in love with me, I just want them to suffer a bit,” she elaborated. “He deserves it, they both do.”

  Rydell lost patience with her. “I don’t know,” he stuttered, “and I don’t care either. Please, leave me alone, Helen, I need to think. Go and do your own research.”

  Helen was not happy. She had not wanted to resort to asking Rydell, but she had felt certain that he would know what she could do. She did not want to hear stupid things about sorcerers. She had enquired about spells at the market but they had only laughed at her, offering her impotent love potions instead.

  She thought about Robbie’s letters. She had reread them a number of times during the trip. She had bought a yellow highlighter and a red ballpoint pen from one of the spazas along the way and she had gone through each line and highlighted all the promises or references to their future, or how he had felt about her, or the time they had spent together. Then, in tiny capital letters, above the yellow, she neatly wrote: YOU LIED. YOU LIAR. Soon the letters were painted with yellow, the tiny red words biting into the page like stinging ants.

  Helen had thought about posting Robbie’s letters back to him, marked with his lies but she did not want him to scorn her or be relieved he was free of her. She wanted him to be inexplicably, shockingly filled with pain just as she had been; devastated by a blind-siding blow that came out of nowhere, and she was growing increasingly frustrated.

  “Everybody, we are here.” Jono announced.

  Helen shook her thoughts aside. She would be resourceful in the morning.

  The restaurant was enormous and filled to capacity. The crowded wooden tables were covered with red and white checked tablecloths and there was a bar area in the back and it too was packed, filled with noisy patrons swigging beer. It took a while to get settled; tables had to be rearranged to accommodate the size of the party.

  “This restaurant is incredibly busy,” Kate said to Jono who was seated to her left.

  “What is that?” He leaned into her, “I did not hear you. It is quite noisy in here.”

  “I said the restaurant is very busy.” Kate yelled back.

  “Yes it is. They make good ribs and steak so it is a popular place.”

  Kate studied the menu. “I’ll have pizza,” she said loudly to Jono.

  “What?” he asked.

  She decided to try the reverse tactic and she lowered her voice and said quietly, “I’m going to have pizza.”

  “Good choice,” he said, “I am going to have the ribs and steak combo.”

  Kate looked around at the group, thinking that apart from the trip, she really did not have much in common with anyone except for maybe Marika and Eva. She smiled across the table at Eva who smiled and waved back. Although they were directly across from each other, it was so noisy they could not hear each other speak.

  “What are you having to eat?” Eva mouthed slowly with accompanying hand movements to further demonstrate her message.

  “Pizza,” Kate replied, also using her hands. “Do you want to share one?”

  “Yes,” Eva nodded and gave Kate a thumbs up. “No meat or anchovies.”

  Kate nodded, picked up the menu and pointed to a selection. Eva nodded.

  “Where’s the man to take our drinks?” Kate asked Jono in the same low tone that had succeeded before.

  “He is busy. He will get to us,” Jono said, wondering why his lot were always in such a hurry except when he was trying to get them back on the bus.

  Kate had been circumspect about drinking since her wild hangover on the first day of the trip but she decided she needed a very large glass of wine.

  Jono turned to her. “Tell me,” he said, badly wanting to talk to her on a real level but feeling overwhelmed and unsure how to begin. “Are you enjoying your trip?”

  “Yes, I am, Jono, I am — but I have to say there have been some extremely concerning elements which haven’t been resolved and…”

  “Kate,” Jono put his hand over hers, “I know what you are going to say and please, do not think that I disagree but for tonight, let us have a good time. It has been tough for everybody, really it has. Let us relax tonight and discuss happy things, please?”

  “Okay, fine,” Kate said, resigned and she pulled her hand away, “but let’s also try to get a waiter.”

  She looked around the table. At the far end, Treasure and Harrison were arguing good-naturedly about something and it seemed each had their supporters; Gisela and Lena were rooting for Treasure, while Jasmine, Enrique and Ellie supported Harrison.

  Kate noticed that Ellie had given up her fascination with Rydell and had turned her attentions to Enrique, The only problem was that Enrique seemed equally as smitten by Eva as Ellie was by him.

  “You are in another world,” Jono shouted to Kate.

  “Not really,” she said. “It’s so noisy in here that I find it hard to talk. Jono, I’m going to find a waiter.”

  “No, no,” he got up, “I will.” He fought his way among the crowd and returned with a waiter.

  “We must order our food now too,” Eva insisted loudly to the resistant waiter who scowled. He took all their orders slowly and vanished.

  Eva leaned across the table. “I hope he comes back,” she yelled to Kate, “he didn’t seem very with it.”

  Kate nodded in agreement.

  “Kate,” Jono asked abruptly, “if you did not have a boyfriend, would you ever consider dating a black man?”

  “Of course I would,” Kate said, immediately remembering Thaalu’s long limbs, his dark gold eyes, strong jaw and high cheekbones.

  “This boyfriend of yours, why have you not married him yet? Perhaps you do not want to marry him?”

  “That’s a very personal question,” Kate felt
uncomfortable, even irritated. “Why does it matter to you?”

  Jono was taken aback. “You are right, it is none of my business. I am just curious. If I was your boyfriend, I would have wanted to marry you a long time ago.”

  Kate was silent.

  Jono sighed. “Kate,” he said and he scooted closer to her, “I must tell you something. Forgive me and do not be angry with me for being so forward with you, but I have strong romantic feelings for you.” He blurted out the last bit and stared at his place-mat, waiting to hear what she would say. Every inch of him hoped that her response would be a positive one.

  And, despite the din, Kate heard him clearly. She sat motionless, unable to say a word or form a thought. She finally gathered her wits about her. “Um, Jono,” she said, carefully, “oh dear, what can I say? Because I am sorry, I don’t have any romantic feelings for you, I can’t tell a lie.” She clutched at the tablecloth, certain there was nothing she could say to ease the situation.

  “But perhaps,” Jono was desperate, “that is because you are a loyal person to your boyfriend and you have never given another man a thought? And perhaps if you gave it a thought, those feelings might grow?”

  “No, I’m sorry, Jono. For me, those kinds of feelings are either there immediately, or they’ll never be there. And I don’t have those feelings for you.”

  She knew she had to be blunt. She could not package her rejection of his love with any kind of comfort because she had no doubt he would mistake it for hope.

  Jono was quiet for a while. “I see,” he said. A certain numbness had overtaken him and the din of the restaurant had fallen away; it was as he was standing in the middle of the silent desert, alone. “You do not have feelings for me,” he repeated. “Maybe it is because I am black man, no matter what you say.”

  “No, Jono, don’t say that. That’s calling me a racist and I’m not.”

  “Have you ever had feelings for a black man in your life?”

  “Yes, I have and who it was or when it happened is none of your business.” She was amazed it had only been yesterday when it felt like a lifetime ago.

  “And why did this so-called relationship not develop?” Jono asked. “I will tell you why. It is because he is black. Like me.”

  The drinks arrived and Kate quickly ordered a second glass before the waiter disappeared. She took a deep gulp of her wine, grateful for the generous glass. “This is good,” she said, not answering Jono because she could not think what else to say. Across the table, Eva raised a glass and Kate smiled at her and toasted her in return.

  “Listen, Jono,” Kate said quietly, “I’m very sorry.”

  He toyed with his knife and fork, his face inscrutable. “Sorry for what?” he asked. “All the injustices, all the pain I have suffered, all the death I have witnessed?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry for all of that.”

  “It is easy for you to be sorry,” he was bitter. “What do you know? It is easy to be sorry when you have it good, when life is a big fat cushion for you to sit on, since the day you were born.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Jono,” Kate wished she had not been forced to hurt him, “But that’s too broad a statement, that it’s easy for me. Every person has their own burdens to carry. I’m not going to argue that mine are as heavy as yours, of course they’re not, they could never be. And I’m deeply sorry for each injustice. I’m sorry for every pain, for your losses of which I’m sure there were many. I can’t even imagine the hardships of your life and I’m sorry for all the bad things that have happened to you. And I’m sorry I’m not in love with you, because you’re a good man, a decent man.”

  “Sorry does not make anything better,” Jono said. “It does not bring back my dead wife, my two dead babies, my burnt house, my lost life. Sorry does not fix my bad health, or give me the money that I need to survive or help me do my job day after day. If you truly cared and were not only sorry, you would love me back and that would make a difference. So you do not care, and really all you want to do is say ‘oh I am sorry you’ve had a tough life, good luck with that’ and walk away. If you honestly cared, you would love me because that would help me. Saying sorry does not help me.”

  “I realize that.” Kate drank more of her wine. She did not know what else to say.

  “Is it your parents?” he asked. “I can talk to them, talk to your father, prove to him I am a good man, a trustworthy man.” He sounded excited, as though he had found the solution.

  “No, Jono, it’s not my parents, it’s me. I’m not in love with you for no other reason except that that magical thing didn’t happen. That’s why.”

  “Magical thing. Now you are speaking like a child, not a grown woman.” He was angry now. “If that is the way you think then perhaps it is better that you do not love me as your love does not mean a lot. I feel sorry for your boyfriend. He is a foolish man or perhaps he does not care deeply for you either. Perhaps he is waiting for magic to happen to him too, with somebody else, have you ever thought of that? Any real man would have insisted you marry him by now and particularly if he was a man in love, he would demand it. You should be worried about him.”

  Without any warning, all the pain of Cam’s betrayals rose up in Kate’s heart as strongly as the day he had told her about Bethany. Her chest slammed tight and she felt as if she could not breathe. The restaurant was closing in on her and she had to get out. “Excuse me, please,” she said thickly, and she climbed out of the bench and ran to the washroom.

  The washroom doubled as a messy storage area for chairs and bicycles and toys and Kate sat down in a yellow rocking chair, crying and vaguely registering a hand-written sign on the mirror offering psychic readings. She had no idea why she felt as hurt as she did. She had felt bitterness and anger when she read Cam’s emails but not hurt. She had thought she had moved beyond the pain. She was still crying when the door opened and Eva and Marika came in.

  “Kate,” Marika asked, “what was going on with you and Jono? We were watching and it didn’t look good. What happened?”

  “It was so horrible,” Kate said and she got up and fetched some toilet paper to blow her nose. She told them what Jono had said.

  “Whether he was heartbroken or not,” Eva declared, “that’s no reason to attack you, none whatsoever. Men. I tell you.”

  “I’m sorry Kate,” Marika said. “Honestly, what did Jono expect?”

  Back at the table, the subject of their discussion had put his head in his hands and felt terrible. He could not believe he had been so cruel to Kate and he asked himself what he had become — what had he let his life do to him? While it was true he had suffered many tragedies, so had countless others. He had never thought of himself as a bitter and angry man but that was how he had behaved.

  The bench was shaking and he turned to see Rydell giggling a hyena chortle.

  Jono stared at him

  “Good one,” Rydell laughed. “You got her good. Kissed the girl and made her cry.”

  Jono was disgusted by Rydell’s freakish enjoyment. “Yes, Rydell,” he said and he turned to face him squarely. “And I can also make you cry. Would you like to see me try?”

  “No. No.” Rydell stopped laughing and sat up straight. “No. Don’t make me cry. That’s not nice. Boys mustn’t do that to other boys. Boys must be friends.”

  “I am your friend, Rydell, but you must promise me something, something very important, or I will make you cry.”

  “I promise.” Rydell licked his lips, furtive and trapped.

  “You have not even listened yet. You must never, ever hurt Kate. If you promise me that, I will be your friend and you can be mine. What do you say?”

  “I won’t hurt Kate,” Rydell agreed. “Not me, I won’t touch her,” and he laughed again.

  “Good man,” Jono said. “Shake on that,” and he held out his hand.

&nb
sp; “I’m not touching you,” Rydell recoiled. “You must never touch me. If you touch me, I’ll die. Men in Africa are full of AIDS disease. They think if they sleep with a virgin it will go away but it never goes away.”

  “Fine, whatever.” Jono did not care. He wondered if there was any end to Harrison and Rydell’s crazy obsessions. “I will not touch you but for your information, I do not have any disease.”

  The food arrived and Jono looked at Kate’s pizza, her empty seat. “Helen,” he leaned across the table, “Kate went to the washroom, would you please go and tell her the food is here?”

  “Ask Eva or Marika to go,” Helen said, looking around. “They’re there too? Fine, I’ll go and get them, but I don’t want my food to get cold, I waited long enough to get it.”

  She got up, went to the washroom and returned almost immediately with Kate, Eva and Marika.

  Kate slid back into her seat.

  “Kate,” Jono was quiet, sincere. “I am very sorry. It is not your duty to love me back. I am sorry I attacked you. Your boyfriend is a good man I am sure, and a lucky man I know. Please, forget what I said, please accept my apology.”

  “You have got nothing to apologize for,” Kate assured him and Jono smiled.

  “Thank you. Now I am going to enjoy my nice big supper,” and he attacked his stacked platter of steak, ribs, onion rings and fries.

  Rydell had lost interest in Kate and Jono, and was avidly watching Treasure and Harrison. “Enjoy your last night with her, little pixie man,” he hissed under his breath. “Because from tomorrow night, she will be mine.” He cut his steak precisely into the same tiny, bite-sized pieces.

  Shortly after dinner, Kate had had enough. Jono’s pile of gnawed rib bones were making her nauseous; she had finished both glasses of wine and she was tipsy and exhausted.

  “Haw! but I am so full.” Jono leaned back and patted his rounded stomach, his jeans and T-shirt straining.

  Kate agreed. She leaned across the table. “Are you going dancing later?” she yelled at Eva and Marika who nodded.