Burn My Heart (8 page)

Mugo felt his stomach turn. How could Karanja, or anyone, think Baba was a traitor? After what was done to the elders in Nyeri, everyone knew what happened to traitors. In the few months since they had last met, Karanja had changed. The way he was talking, it was hard to think of him as the joking boy with whom he used to tease the neighbour’s goats, chase chickens and run behind the older boys. They were passing a house with a tray of raw goat’s meat with its stomach and a cluster of intestines on a chair by the door when he felt acid promptly rise in his gullet as if he was going to be sick. He turned and fled back the way they had come.

The retching started before he could reach the house and he was forced to kneel over an open
drain. He was relieved that no one saw him apart from a couple of small children who were poking sticks into the dirty water. Mugo returned to the house feeling weak and rather foolish. He explained that he had left Karanja when he felt the sickness coming on. He said nothing about their argument. His aunt gave him a drink that she said would settle his stomach and made him lie down on Karanja’s mat. He couldn’t hear what she and Baba were talking about. But his mind raced from scenes of Karanja’s father being seized by police to Gitau and Maina hiding deep in a forest on Kirinyaga. The drink must have put him to sleep because Baba had to wake him up to tell him it was time to leave. Karanja was back, but the only words Mugo exchanged with him were to say goodbye. The two elephants remained in his pockets.

As Mugo walked with Baba once again through the alleys, he tried to forget his nausea and pick out the good smells. He had just detected the aroma of roasted corn, when someone stepped close beside them.

‘How are you, Baba? Don’t stop walking. Follow me!’

Mugo’s heart leapt. The voice was that of his older brother but at first glance he looked nothing like him… certainly not Gitau in his school uniform with blazer and tie! The figure was clad
in an old British army coat and with his cap pulled down over his forehead. Before Baba could reply, they were being steered into the next alley. It happened with such speed that Mugo felt quite dizzy, until they stopped outside a small house with the door and window boarded up. The long-coated figure that was Gitau tapped softly, urgently. The door was unbolted. Once inside, it was hastily shut. The only light seeped through the narrow gap between the walls and the thatch. In the gloom, Mugo recognized the broad shoulders of Karanja’s older brother.

‘Are you well, uncle?’ Maina greeted Baba. He wore an old khaki coat like Gitau.

‘How can we be well?’ Baba retorted. He breathed heavily. ‘Your mother is sick with worry and here you are, hiding like thieves!’

‘We are not the thieves, Baba. You forget. It is the wazungu who are the thieves and those red hats and home guards who help them are their dogs!’ Gitau said steadily. He stood with his back to a door leading into a second room. Mugo wondered if there was anyone else there. Baba faced him squarely.

‘Where did you learn how to lecture your elders? You think I don’t know our history?’

‘But what are you doing about it, Baba?’

Mugo’s blood pounded. First Karanja, now Gitau! If Baba raised his hand against Gitau, as
he did when he was younger, his brother would surely not stand and take it.

‘Why have I been sending you to that school with wazungu teachers? Was it not to get an education so you will know what the wazungu know? Is that not why Mzee Kenyatta went to study so long in their country? Mzee knows we shall never get our land back if we do not have their knowledge!’

‘What good was Mzee’s knowledge when the wazungu arrested him, Baba?’ Gitau asked coldly.

‘You have not even finished school and you think you can fight them!’ Baba blazed. His bristling eyebrows rose with scorn.

‘Will Mzee’s knowledge make the settler judge set him free? Even a fool knows that the wazungu won’t let him go. They took our land with guns! It is time for us to take it back!’ Gitau’s voice had been rising but now he lowered it. ‘Anyway, we have other leaders.’

‘Is someone a leader who tells brother to kill brother?’ Baba demanded.

For the first time Gitau looked away.

‘Is it right for a Kikuyu to kill his brother? Is that unity?’

‘Uncle, if a person betrays us, is that person not a traitor?’ Maina asked quietly.

Mugo’s mind had been twisting with all the
unanswered questions but when he heard the word ‘traitor’, he was seized once again with a terrible panic. He prayed there were no Muhimu listening in the next room. He was sure they wouldn’t like Baba’s questions. He had to stop this argument. He gripped his stomach and began to moan.

‘Aahh! I feel sick again!’

‘Quick! A container! Your brother was sick earlier today.’

‘I need fresh air, Baba. I’ll be better outside!’

Mugo turned to the door and Maina hastily unbolted it. Mugo lurched out. He threw himself against the wall and breathed deeply. Baba followed with his forehead meshed in a frown.

‘Let us go or we shall be late.’ Baba began walking away. He was leaving without properly saying goodbye.

Gitau came to the doorway. He took Mugo’s hand and pressed it. For a moment Mugo held it tight. He wished that they could have had time together on their own… with no arguments and no one else listening. He had his own questions that he wanted to ask his brother. Instead, he gave his mother’s message.

‘Mami says she hopes you are well.’ He didn’t complete the second part – that Gitau should visit her before he returned to school.

‘Tell Mami I hope she stays well. Go well, little brother.’

Suddenly Mugo remembered what he had in his pockets. He had nearly forgotten!

‘Wait!’ He pulled out the two little wooden elephants and thrust one into Gitau’s hand. ‘I made it for you! I’m keeping this one for myself. See, they are brothers!’ He held up the charging elephant that he had made for Karanja in his palm. Clasping it in his fist, he ran to catch up with Baba.

There was tension inside the car even before Father pulled up on the dust road beside the location. After driving out of the club gates, he had commented that Lance’s father was ‘rather self-opinionated’. Mother had disagreed, saying that she thought his army training had made him ‘a realist’ and ‘probably quite clear-sighted’. Mathew was sure they would have continued if he were not sitting in the back. He had thrown in that he thought Lance might be like his father but his parents had only said ‘Oh’ and ‘Hmm’. The conversation was closed but the discordant note lingered.

Kamau and Mugo were waiting at the spot where they had left them near the location gates. Mathew shuffled along the back seat to make room. For the first time he felt slightly odd and self-conscious about sharing the seat. He grinned at Mugo, trying not to show his awkward thoughts.

‘Did you have a nice time?’

‘Yes,’ Mugo said, but he didn’t smile.

‘Did your brother and your cousin like the elephants you made them?’

Mugo just nodded. He had proudly shown them to Mathew earlier but now it was marked that he didn’t want to talk about them.

‘How is your sister, Kamau?’ Father spoke loudly above the drone of the engine.

‘She is getting better, bwana.’

‘So it wasn’t so urgent after all, hey? You made it sound like she was at death’s door!’ Mathew wasn’t sure whether Father was joking or accusing.

‘What was wrong with her, Kamau?’ asked Mother. ‘Did she see a doctor?’ Mother always liked to know a doctor’s diagnosis.

‘I don’t know, memsahib. She was just sick.’

‘Well, I hope her husband is taking care of her now. Men should help their wives when they are sick.’

‘Yes, memsahib.’

Everyone fell quiet. There was just over an hour of daylight left. Mathew felt Father put his foot down on the accelerator as they came to the end of the tarmac. From here on the dirt road was dented with corrugations. Father’s theory was that if he drove fast, the tyres skated over them. Even so, they would only reach home just before sunset. Mathew kept his eyes trained on the bush. It was a good time of day to see animals that had been resting under shade during the day and were on the move to find water.
On their journey into town, Mugo’s sharp eyesight had improved Mathew’s ‘animal count’, but now Mugo seemed tired and showed no interest. Usually Father was prepared to slow down if Mathew saw something worth checking. But when Mathew called out that he thought he had seen something with spots like a cheetah in long grass beside the road, Father didn’t stop.

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, shadows lengthened across the bush. Mathew knew the road well. They were about halfway home when the road ahead dropped down to a thickly wooded gorge with a ford for crossing at the bottom. Only very sturdy vehicles made it across in the rainy season but there was no worry about that in late December. They had just driven across the ford and were still ascending the slope on the other side, when the engine spluttered violently. They jerked to a halt.

‘Damn! This is all we need!’ Father cursed. He had used the Austin sedan because he had said it ‘needed a spin’ and Mother thought it would be more comfortable than the truck.

‘Bring rocks to wedge the tyres! Hurry!’ Father ordered Kamau and Mugo. He didn’t want the car slipping backwards. They all climbed out.

‘I knew we should have stayed with the Smithers!’ Mother said fretfully. Father scanned the surface of the road behind them. They had filled up
with petrol in town and there were no signs on the ground that it had been leaking. Father knelt down to search underneath the car. Mathew did the same. Nothing seemed amiss there. Next Father hoisted up the bonnet.

‘Better check for a fuel blockage,’ he muttered to himself. He collected a small spanner from his toolkit. Kamau and Mugo had now wedged the tyres and everyone watched Father disconnect the pipe leading from the fuel pump to the carburettor.

‘Start her up!’ he instructed Mother. ‘Put her in neutral first.’ Mother got behind the wheel. All other eyes were fixed on the end of the pipe. When fuel finally appeared, it was only a trickle.

‘I was right, damn it! It’s blocked!’

‘How?’ asked Mathew.

Father didn’t answer but called to Mother to turn the engine off. He began to reconnect the pipe. Mathew felt his mother’s arm around his shoulders. He leaned against her, waiting for Father’s verdict. Mugo and Kamau moved away and stood silently together a short distance from the car. It seemed an age before Father straightened himself and faced them.

‘Contaminated fuel at the garage or…’ Father paused grimly and lowered his voice so only Mathew and Mother would hear, ‘someone has spiked our tank!’

‘What can we do?’ Mother demanded. Mathew detected a note of panic.

‘We have to get a lift – and the car will have to be towed. Can’t fix it here. Too big a job,’ said Father. His parents exchanged one of their long silent looks. Then Father signalled to Kamau.

‘How long will it take you to get to Bwana Smithers’ farm? We need him to come to take us home! We need him, haraka haraka!’

‘It’s far, bwana! I can’t reach there before night.’

‘Mugo runs very fast, Father! You could take a message, hey, Mugo?’ Mathew willed Mugo to agree with him but Mugo remained unusually quiet.

‘He can’t do it, bwana kidogo!’ Kamau said vehemently. ‘It’s too dangerous, bwana! You don’t know what people you will meet on the road. At the inspector bwana’s place, the guards won’t know who he is. They will think he wants to trick them to open the gates and they will shoot him!’

Mathew knew from Father’s silence that Kamau was right. Mathew gritted his teeth. With only half an hour of light left, it was unlikely that any other cars would come along now.

The gorge below them was already disappearing into shadows. A sudden reckless scurrying through the trees and harsh barking made Mathew freeze. A troop of baboons had discovered their presence.

Two or three swaggered boldly down the trunks of the fever trees on the other side of the road. Mathew looked up at the web of branches arching above them. They were riddled with at least twenty pairs of furry ears, close-set little eyes and long black muzzles.

‘Get inside!’ Father ordered. Mother swiftly shepherded Mathew and Mugo into the car. Father pulled his pistol from its holster.

‘Hapana, bwana!’ Kamau held up one hand to Father while scooping up a small stone with the other. He hurled it at the nearest creature. There was a yelp and it scampered off, screeching. The rest of the troop protested furiously, baring their teeth. Kamau picked up another stone and flung it. A second baboon shrieked and fled back up the tree. After Kamau hit a third, the troop retreated in a flurry of grunts, barks and screams.

Through the back window Mathew watched Father nod to Kamau. The light was rapidly fading and the two of them walked part of the way down the gorge and then up again until they reached the top of the slope. Father kept his revolver in his hand. It looked as if they were checking out the territory. Seeing Kamau with Father and the way he had chased away the baboons reassured Mathew a little that Father was right and Lance’s father wrong. Kamau seemed as concerned as they were about spending the night in the gorge. If someone
had put dirt in the fuel tank, it surely wasn’t Kamau.

Mathew tilted his head over the front seat. Mother’s small pistol lay on her lap. She had taken it out of her handbag. ‘Mother, who could have done this to us? That’s sabotage, isn’t it?’

‘Put it out of your mind, Mathew. It could have been accidental, like your father said. So we’ll just pray and think positively.’ Her voice was unnaturally bright. The pistol on her lap was hardly a sign that she was managing to ‘think positively’ herself. He wanted to pursue the conversation but a glance at Mugo’s face hushed him. There was a blankness in Mugo’s eyes – an invisible barrier – that he had never seen before. What was going on in his head? For the first time, it occurred to Mathew that Mugo might think differently from his father, Kamau. Mathew sat back and curled up on his side of the back seat. He closed his eyes to stop them sliding towards Mugo. When he opened them again, darkness had crept in everywhere. With it came dread of the night ahead.