He ran for seven days and nights without resting until he reached his destination, the Santalucia headquarters of the Soldiers of Christ. Exhausted, he collapsed at the feet of the Christian soldiers, and it took them a while to decipher what he was trying to tell them.
“I am one of the three garbage collectors that Satan once ambushed at a dumpsite in the prairie a couple of years ago. You remember me? Much has happened since. We three took different measures to protect ourselves from the Evil One. One joined your group, armed as you always are with the Bible and the cross and the word of the Lord on high. Another, the driver, sought protection from the Mighty s Youth, with their guns and whips and the mandate from the Ruler. But I did a foolish thing. I tried to hide wherever people gather to drink. With my walking stick I would defend myself against any sudden Satanic mischief, I thought. What can I say? I first saw and heard him boasting where I used to drink regularly, and I said, You will never see me again, for from now on I shall be on the move all the time, never drinking at the same place twice. Well, I was wrong, because, lost to alcohol, I did not know that Satan would follow me from bar to bar; no matter where I hid, he would find me. He finally caught up with me. Well, let me tell you. I had a narrow escape. Had it not been for this cross-shaped walking stick, he would have seen me and I would not now be here to bear witness that I have seen with my own eyes the very Satan who appeared before us at the dumpsite in the prairie. I am here to say that I have converted. All these years past, I have foolishly sought solace in booze. Now I need the support of Jesus. I want to become a Soldier of Christ.”
As they were not so sure about this man, they sent for Sweeper-of-Souls, who was overjoyed at seeing his former workmate. They embraced, and this touching scene confirmed to the others what had already been revealed to them: that the newcomer was a messenger from Christ sent to lead them to Satan’s hiding place. They received him as one of them and baptized him Soul’s Walking Stick.
“Where is he?” the Soldiers of Christ asked him after the baptism. “Where did he go? Where can we find him?”
“You will never believe this,” said Soul’s Walking Stick. “Three hell riders on red, black, and golden motorbikes took him to the Ruler at the State House.”
“Does he think he can hide in there?” one of them asked.
They would keep watch on all the roads to the State House with a view to capturing him as he came out, no doubt having led the Ruler astray like that time when Satan had forced the Ruler to go to the All Saints Cathedral riding a donkey in imitation of Christ. But they must take care not to draw hostile curiosity that could abort their plans. They were as adamant as ever: arrest Satan, drag him through the streets of Eldares, and then put him on trial.
7
A.C. tells a slightly different version of what happened at the bar they called Sell-Me-Death. According to him, the Wizard of the Crow was not drunk with alcohol; he was simply overwhelmed by a vision of all the evils he saw before the land; his throwing up on the grass by the roadside was his way of saying that the land needed cleansing. Otherwise, in his narrative A.G. is short on details about the episode, and there are things he is not able to explain. When pressed by some spoilsports who do not know a good story when they hear one—what was the Wizard of the Crow doing in a cheap bar that served poison? they wanted to know—he would answer rather cryptically: Remember Jesus? Muhammed? They dwelled among the poor.
What he tells with more clarity and authority was how the three motorcyclists, of whom he had been one, stopped at the graveyard of All Saints Cathedral before reaching the State House to call their respective bosses on their mobile phones, simultaneously informing them that the wizard was in tow.
At the agreed-upon time, A.C. had quickly dialed Machokali’s number to tell him the news. A.C. emphasizes how happy the minister sounded, that A.C. had never heard him exude such joy.
“True! Haki ya Mungu. I knew the minister quite well, nearly all his moods. He and I were in America together, remember? He and I used to share meals, and it was he and I who went to receive the Wizard of the Crow at the AIA, the American International Airport. So when I tell you that he was unusually happy on hearing that I had successfully completed the task assigned to me, you’d better believe me. Imagine that even when I told him that Njoya and Kahiga had unfairly claimed a share of the credit, harvesting where they never planted, Machokali did not seem upset that his rivals, Sikiokuu and Kaniürü, would partake of the glory”
According to A.C., Machokali cared most about the fact that the Ruler’s wishes had been met. I have fulfilled my duty to my Lord, he told A.C., and then revealed that the Ruler had already summoned him. He assured A.C. that he would never forget the diligence and commitment displayed by SS Arigaigai Gathere.
A.C. then goes on to tell how, upon reaching the State House, they were shown a room where they put the Wizard of the Crow who, still passed out, continued snoring. After securing their captive, they were taken to the Ruler.
They found Machokali, Sikiokuu, Kaniürü, and Tajirika already there, as on the day the two ministers and Kaniürü were charged with their missions. The reception of the three police heroes, A.C. noted with amusement, was tense with rivalry. Each boss greeted his own policeman as if he alone had captured the Wizard of the Crow, lauding him with congratulations for his heroism. Each shook hands with the other two policemen, thanking them particularly for their assistance.
The Ruler was in a jolly mood, and he immediately promoted Kahiga and Njoya to Senior Superintendents of Police. A.G. was made Assistant Commissioner of Police. The Ruler then told them to go home for a much-needed rest, but that they should report for duty at the State House the following morning and that henceforth they would be reporting directly to him. The three police heroes were in a world all their own as they headed toward the door.
“I don’t know why, but when I reached the door I turned my head and looked back and I saw Machokali wave at me slowly, a kind of personal farewell to me. True! Haki ya Mungu, and I must say that his big eyes lit up as I had never seen them before, but I did not then try to make too much of it because I, too, was very happy, and doubly so for knowing that my work, despite my travels and endless storytelling, had brought a little happiness to everybody, and of course I was also happy with my new rank, and, as if to add a little of what the English call icing on the cake, I would now be reporting for duty at the State House and be answerable to only the Ruler.”
8
When Kamltl woke up the following morning he thought that he was in a hotel, so luxurious the room seemed to be. He thought he was dreaming and when this dream ended he would find himself atop the charred remains of the shrine, the cat again snuggling by his side. But his splitting headache convinced him that he was fully awake. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his chin in cupped hands. How had he gotten herer
He vaguely remembered a person telling twisted stories about the note he had written to Machokali; he even recalled walking toward the man in order to correct him, but what was it about the incident that made Kamltl so angry? Again the phrase “True! Haki ya Mungu” reminded him vaguely of a policeman whose presence in the bar he could not account for. He also recalled motorcycles and faces resembling Njoya and Kahiga. What was their relationship to the policeman, and what had brought all three to the same bar?
He stood up to open the windows and peer outside to see if he could tell where he was; they were small and too high up the wall for him to reach, reminding him of a prison cell. He grew despondent, full of disgust with himself for having lost the trace of his goal—to find Nyawlra—by succumbing to alcohol.
Two soldiers entered the room, threw some rags and soap at him, and told him to wash up and get ready, but for what? He had hardly finished washing the caked vomit from his face when they ordered him to accompany them as if he were a free man. He should not be foolish and try to create a scene or escape. They went through corridors and hallways past other police and soldiers.
&
nbsp; How surprised he was when he was ushered into a room and found himself face-to-face with the Ruler and Tajirika! He noted that the Ruler was still suffering from self-induced bodily expansion: Was this why he had been abducted, to attempt over more time to effect a cure? Was this the reason for the Wanted posters? But what was Tajirika doing here? In his state of alcoholic grace, Kamltl had hardly ever read newspapers or listened to the radio, so he did not know that Tajirika was now the governor of the Central Bank. Tajirika, he thought, was truly baffling: What connection was there among the many Tajirika faces he had encountered? Tajirika who was Nyawlra’s employer, Tajirika who insulted him with a mock literacy test outside Eldares Modern Construction and Real Estate, Tajirika who had visited him in search of a cure for his malady of words, Tajirika and his bucket of shit, and Tajirika now seated in the august presence of the Ruler?
Suddenly terror seized him. Had Nyawlra been captured? And could this explain why Tajirika was here?
He was offered a chair, and the soldiers were dismissed. The Ruler started the conversation. He introduced Kamltl to Tajirika, and Tajirika smiled as if encountering an old friend. Their jovialness convinced Kamltl that they were playing a cat and mouse game with him regarding Nyawlra.
“I believe that you and I last met in New York City,” said the Ruler affably.
“And I before you left for America,” added Tajirika, still smiling.
“There are a few things you can help us with,” continued the Ruler in the same friendly tone. “But let me first correct myself. When I introduced Titus to you, I forgot to mention his new title. I trust you know that Tajirika is now my new governor of the Central Bank. So let’s start our get-together with money matters, but I should let the Lord of Money explain.”
“You remember the money I paid you for healing me, three big bags?” Tajirika was about to mention the word dollars but he held back in the nick of time. He had not paid him in dollars and he did not want the Wizard of the Crow to start by disputing the currency in which he had been paid. “And you remember you told me that you buried the bags somewhere in the prairie?” Tajirika added. “Tell us this: why did you really bury the bags in the ground?”
“You know, like a farmer planting seeds in the ground?” added the Ruler encouragingly.
“Please tell us: were you hoping that the money would grow?” Tajirika asked circumspectly.
“You know, like money breeding money or whatever?” the Ruler added suggestively.
Who has ever heard of money being buried in the earth, like a grain of wheat, in order to multiply? Had the Ruler and Tajirika lost their minds? This suspicion was deepened by the fact that they would not let him get in a word in response. It was as if their need to know whatever it was that they needed to know had trumped up their capacity to listen. As if the Ruler had been reading Kamltl’s thoughts, he hastened to add:
“Before we start getting into the details, let’s first get to know one another better, because even though you and I were together in New York, my minister, the late, I mean, the honorable Machokali, never allowed us to properly bond. I seem to remember that you had nice, smart clothes. What happened to them? Or do you prefer crumpled ones, in keeping with your trade? Let me be clear on this: if you explain everything that you know thoroughly, you will not leave our presence empty-handed. But wait a minute. Let’s first make sure that we are talking to the right person, and so I shall now ask you, as they do in a court of law, to say your name. Are you the Wizard of the Crow?”
If only he knew what they were up to! If only he could remember how he ended up here! If only he knew Nyawlra’s fate! Was she alive, in custody, or free? If only … Without certainty, anything said might compromise both him and her.
“Didn’t you hear the Ruler’s question?” asked Tajirika, feigning anger. “The Ruler is asking you: are you the Wizard of the Crow?”
Kamltl opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something and started to wheeze as if he were suffering an asthmatic attack. Then out popped one distinct word: If! Whatever they asked, he responded in the same way: he would attempt to speak, would hiss some sounds, and then out would come If!
The Ruler and Tajirika looked at each other in dismay, sharing the same thought. Each recalled his bout with the illness that had defied every doctor except the Wizard of the Crow. Now, it seemed, the healer needed healing at a time they needed him most to share vital knowledge. Frustrated, they did not know what to do. They tried a few more questions, and his response was always the same.
“His words are stuck,” the Ruler said.
“What shall we do?” Tajirika asked. “How shall we free the trapped words from his mouth?”
“Oh! Not to worry” the Ruler said menacingly. “I might just have to pry his mouth open and pull his voice box out with my own hands.”
The Ruler summoned the soldiers who had brought the Wizard of the Crow before him and asked them to take the man away.
9
The next morning Kahiga, Njoya, and A.C. reported for duty at the State House and were led in to the presence of the Mighty One. Njoya and Kahiga were surprised to find the Ruler without his usual counselors, Sikiokuu and Machokali. Tajirika seemed to have taken their place at the right side of the Ruler. But how had Tajirika risen so quickly? Through magic, or potent concoctions? This Wizard of the Crow is playing havoc with people’s lives, they both thought; his magic lifts some people a few steps up the ladder of power while bringing others down a rung or two. Not that they were thrilled by Tajirika’s ascendancy. They had, after all, tortured him in the past: would he exact vengeance? There was nothing they could now do about it, so they resigned themselves to what may come.
Their task was to guard the Wizard of the Crow at all times, night and day. There must always be two guards inside the chamber with him and one outside. They were to be the Ruler’s ears. All the sorcerer’s utterances, while awake or asleep, were to be conveyed only to the Ruler, not to be discussed among themselves much less with others, on pain of losing one’s tongue. Njoya and Kahiga were to start their duty inside while A.C. remained outside the door.
The Ruler did not of course disclose to them that the Wizard of the Crow had been in the same room earlier that morning, or that he was suffering from the malady of words, so the policemen did not anticipate any problems.
In fact Kahiga and Njoya were happy when they learned of their assignment because they wanted to speak with the Wizard of the Crow to make amends and reassure him that they had no personal ill will toward him. They were simply messengers not privy to the contents of the message, and they had to do their duty. If he met with trouble, he should not turn his anger against them. But if he should come across good times, he should not forget that they had always been on his side.
No sooner were they inside the chamber than they started chatting him up. They asked: Do you remember us? The word if and the force with which it was uttered almost made them run away; they stayed put only because they knew that fleeing would cost them their jobs if not their lives, and, besides, they had already encountered this if from Tajirika’s confessions. But despite their previous acquaintance with it, the word and its implications instilled fear in them. Had the Wizard of the Crow fallen ill after they had brought him in last night? they now wondered. They kept on trying to engage him in talk, only to have to deal with if. They waited and hoped for a more fulsome utterance, but when it became clear that none would be forthcoming, they decided that Kahiga should take the if to the Ruler.
A.G., who had been stationed outside, now entered the chamber and joined Njoya and the Wizard of the Crow.
Kahiga was a little puzzled to see that the Ruler did not show any surprise at the news. He told Kahiga that as long as the wizard’s only utterance was if, they should not bother to report it. When Kahiga returned, he positioned himself outside the chamber, so he did not immediately pass on the Ruler’s message to the other two. So when A.G. tried to speak to the Wizard of the Crow and he croaked the word
if, he just rushed out, gestured for Kahiga to take his place inside, and sped to the Ruler. I just told one of you that if that is the only utterance, you should not bother me with it, growled the Ruler. A.C. returned to his former place outside the chamber. Njoya was the only one who did not fly out to report the word, because Kahiga passed on the message from the boss.
So all three waited day and night, Kahiga and Njoya inside with the Wizard of the Crow, and A.C. outside the door. Food was brought to them, newspapers, too. The Eldares Times connected them to the world outside. They spent the whole day perusing it while they waited for the wizard to go beyond if.
It was the Eldares Times that broke the news about Machokali.
10
Njoya and Kahiga looked at each other, big-eyed, their bodies aflame with anxiety. This must be the work of the Wizard of the Crow, they thought simultaneously, and both stared at him to see if they could read anything in his face. The wizard was in another world, as always, gazing ahead. The police officers winked at each other, and Kahiga casually turned the newspaper so that the page with the news of Machokali was now facing the Wizard of the Crow while Njoya kept a surreptitious eye on him to see if and how his face would change on reading the headline: MACHOKALI MISSING.
But the Wizard of the Crow seemed completely unaware of his environment, and his face registered nothing.
Wizard of the Crow Page 68
