CHAPTER THIRTY THREE - PROPOSAL
It was late morning by the time we found a place where the river was shallow enough for us to attempt a crossing. We decided to help the 4x4 out even more and threw some branches into the flow in the centre of the river so I could drive over. I had already waded across, the cool water coming up to my knees at its deepest point, so I felt fairly confident of a successful crossing.
We pulled and hacked some branches over from the trees and piled them as best we could in the shallows before dragging them even further in to the middle. Before that however, we emptied the car and carried everything across, placing it all in a dry spot on the opposite bank. When the time came to drive the car across, Tara stood in the water in order to guide me through, but even after all our careful preparations, my heart was beating loudly in my chest and a faint sheen of sweat had appeared on my brow. It was foremost in my mind that if anything went wrong here, the nearest telephone was many days walk away, through the native African bush.
I eased the vehicle down the gently sloping bank towards the water, ensuring I stayed in low gear and in full four-wheel drive. The mud near the edge was quite sticky and the tyres spun a little as they bit into it. When I reached the water itself though, the stones on the bottom gave me a little more traction and the 4x4 surged confidently forward. Tara continued to guide me through, keeping an eye on the water level and what was sitting on the riverbed. I gently pushed the accelerator down a little more as the front wheels reached our makeshift drift of branches and I felt the front of the car lift slightly. With gaining confidence, I hit the gas a bit more and the engine roared as all four wheels dug deep, propelling the vehicle up and over the branches. Unfortunately, we had laid some of these parallel with the flow and the wheels slid along their length, pushing the whole car sideways down the river. I cried out for Tara to get out of the way as I put my foot down hard and used every bit of power the engine could give. For a moment, I thought I would continue to roll sideways along the riverbed, but in a spray of water and mud, the knobbly tyres bit one last time and the car leapt from the water and up the other side, where I quickly hit the brakes, bringing the whole thing to a slithering halt. I whooped with joy at the dramatic climax of the crossing and then looked back to the water just in time to see a very wet, muddy and decidedly unhappy Tara dragging herself up onto the bank.
‘Come here Braughton.’ She called, sounding mad as all hell.
‘Now, I’m sorry that you got wet there, but there’s no need to get angry, is there?’ I struggled to hold a straight face as she stood there with hands on hips, dripping from every part of her body.
‘Just come here now!’ She shouted, scaring the hell out of me. I went over to her actually a little worried that she had finally flipped out.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, holding my hand out in a gesture of friendship.
She said nothing, her face was the picture of fury. Then she leant forward, grabbed my hand, and pulled with all her might. I was flung forward, totally off balance and cannoned into her, upon which she grasped me with both arms and gave me a big wet, muddy bear hug whilst breaking into peals of laughter. I was soaked now too and struggled to break free, sending us both crashing to the ground where we rolled down the bank into the sticky mud at the water’s edge. As we stopped rolling, I finished up underneath, Tara pinning me down and grinning away through a mask of wet mud. She looked up for a second then and the grin faded from her face. I looked in the direction of her gaze and my own grin vanished as standing there on the other side were two men, silently watching us, not saying a word.
I stared at them, rigid with the shock of seeing someone, anyone, out here, wondering what their motives were and whether we were in any danger. Tara suddenly gave a little shriek as the reality of the situation sunk in and struggled to her feet, me following suit before turning to face the intruders. I suddenly realised that the younger of the two was the witchdoctor we had spoken to in Kwekwe, but the older man was a stranger.
‘What do you want here?’ I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.
‘We have come to help you.’ The older man spoke first, his voice deeper than his wiry frame suggested.
‘How can you help us and with what?’ I replied, still unsure as to what they wanted and trying to keep Tara behind me.
‘You are searching for something here and we can help you to find it.’ The younger man spoke this time, smiling briefly in an almost friendly way.
‘Why do you think we are searching?’ I asked.
‘Do you tell me that you are not?’ The older man replied. ‘In that case, we have wasted our time,’ he paused, ‘but I don’t think that is the case.’
The conversation reached a stalemate and I wasn’t sure what to say next, not wanting to give anything away, but also not wishing to pass up any chance of help, no matter how unlikely it seemed.
The old man continued though. ‘There is one here who wishes you harm. He has come here to see you both dead, but we do not think you should die for the crimes of your ancestors or your parents, so we are here now to protect you.’
‘What crimes?’ Tara stepped out from behind me and her eyes flashed as she shouted the question at the two men.
‘Perhaps we can come over there and talk to you.’ The older man said, this time smiling and holding his hands out with palms up in a gesture of openness.
I looked back at Tara, asking the question with an arch of my brow. She nodded quickly and we both stepped back from the river and climbed the bank where we had the height advantage. The two men started to wade through the water, the younger holding the arm of the older, guiding him over the remains of our drift.
We sat on the grass near the car and the two witchdoctors, I guessed the older man was the teacher of the younger, came and sat facing us, but keeping a reasonable distance.
‘What crimes?’ Tara repeated the question, a little more quietly this time.
‘This man, the one who comes for you has told us of these crimes, and we do not say that we believe him or not, just that we now tell you what he said. You will know the truth of it and you can judge the danger you are in.’ The old man spoke more softly now, making me feel more at ease in spite of myself.
He continued; ‘He says that your ancestor,’ he looked at me, ‘did some wrongs many, many years ago, affecting the Matabele people and perhaps even his own ancestor. He did not say what this wrong was, but I will guess that the thing you now seek will give you the answer to that question.’ He smiled at me, reminding me of the wise old Chinese man in that martial arts movie, inscrutable and gentle, but hard as nails all at the same time.
‘Your parents though, they have hurt him more directly than that.’ He turned towards Tara, whose own face had taken on a mask again, fear and fury merged in her eyes as she stared at him.
‘This man says that your parents caused the death of his son, many years ago, and he wants to take his revenge for that death.’
‘He’s lying.’ Tara’s voice was low and quiet, but the intensity of feeling contained within those short words was menacing and her face had contorted into an ugly mask of hatred and rage.
‘That is probably true,’ the old man responded, surprising us both, ‘but what matters now is that this is what this man believes to be true and his actions are driven by this belief.’ He spoke quietly too, but in a soothing way that had the effect of relaxing Tara’s guard somewhat.
‘Why would he believe something that isn’t true?’ she asked, still dangerously quiet, but without the level of menace that had been there before.
‘That I cannot answer, I am afraid. His reasons are lost to me, but he believes in more than just that tale.’
‘What else does he believe?’ I asked, sensing that we might be getting nearer to the point of this conversation.
‘He believes that there is something hidden out here, something that was stolen from the Matabele people long ago.’ He stopped, scrutinising our faces for any sign that we kne
w anything of it. We both held fast, managing to maintain poker straight expressions, waiting for whatever he had to say next.
He nodded, imperturbably and then continued. ‘He also believes that this thing that is hidden here is of great value to his people, that whatever it is can bring them back to prominence, perhaps even to lead this country.’ Again he paused, but for only a moment before he came to his point.
‘Now my friends, what I believe is that you have some knowledge of this thing and that you may even know where it is hidden. I think that you have a problem in that this man intends to cause you harm, death even, and we can help to save you from him.’
‘Go on.’ I said slowly, knowing the old man wanted something from us.
‘What I propose, therefore, is that we help each other, as people must do out here in the bush to survive. We will help you to avoid this man and you will share with us, whatever it is that you are looking for.’
There it was, the good old fashioned “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” scenario and I wasn’t overly surprised at his offer. I did, however, have cause to doubt his word and needed to talk with Tara before we decided what to do.
‘If what you say is true, that this man is out there somewhere looking for us, how did you manage to get away from him to come and find us?’ I asked, hoping to find a chink in his story.
‘He is preparing your killing ground.’ he said simply, making the chilling truth sound matter of fact. ‘He has others to help him and he sent us to lead you into a trap.’
It sounded plausible, but there was something else I needed to clear up. ‘How do you know that we will be able to find whatever you say is here? What happens if we can’t find it?’ I was apprehensive of how he would answer this and braced myself for what he said next.
‘Then we will leave you to your fate.’ Although he was talking about our deaths, he still managed to remain unemotional as he spelt out how the deal would work.
I shivered and looked over at Tara who still stared at the men, the look of distrust written across her dark features. ‘I think we need to talk.’ I said, gently holding her arm to lead her away.
‘Please talk, but do not take too long as the man expects us.’ The young man spoke this time, his words both instructing and threatening in one go.
Tara and I walked a few yards away before sitting down again in the long grass out of earshot, but within eyesight of the others.
‘What do we do?’ Tara spoke first, obviously scared, but with a glint of steel under her fear.
‘I don’t think we have a choice,’ I said, ‘we are pretty much alone out here and whether or not these two are telling the truth, they seem to know a lot about what’s going on, too much for it to be just coincidence, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right, although I hate the idea of anyone else walking away with the diamonds.’ The steel was now showing more. ‘They won’t get away with this, we have to play along, but we will win in the end.’
I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by this, but chose to ignore it for now and be thankful that she wasn’t going to cause any immediate problems.
‘Okay,’ I called to the two witchdoctors, ‘you have a deal. What do you plan to do?’
Acacia - Secrets of an African Painting Page 34
