Switch! (12 page)

There was a soft whump, and for a moment she appeared less solid in the firelight, but no matter how fiercely she contorted her face, the amulet failed to move her. She smacked her lips as if she had tasted something nasty. Ethan could taste a faint hint of tin in his own mouth, and from their disgusted expressions, it looked as if the other boys did too.

“Well, that’s disturbing,” Salih said.

“No energy. You’ve drained the lot!” the witch grumbled, glaring at the opal in her outstretched palm.

Even some of the assembled campers let out a groan and looked accusingly at Ethan for spoiling the trick. It was a huge responsibility being the one with magic, Ethan thought bitterly. He wondered if any of them would like to trade places.

“Could the opal take the power back if I hold it again?” he offered, eyeing it nervously as it fizzled and cracked like a wet firework in Gogo Maya’s hand. He was loath to touch it in case it burned him, but he hoped it would take back its power. He wondered why they hadn’t thought of doing that before. It wasn’t his fault he’d touched it, and he wanted nothing to do with its power. At least that was what his head told him. His hand felt strangely drawn towards it.

“Don’t be silly,” Gogo Maya huffed, “that would be like trying to herd hornets back into their nest. If you touch it again, anything could happen.”
 

But when Salih cocked an eyebrow at her, she gave a long-suffering sigh and handed it over to Ethan.

As soon as it touched his palm, the fizzing stopped and its glow oscillated gently.

“Oh, close your hand, you stupid boy!” Gogo Maya snapped.
 

As he did so, Ethan felt a wave of cool calmness pass over him, beyond anything he’d ever felt before. It only lasted an instant, and when he opened his hand to look at the opal, it lay dead and cold in his palm. “Oh no...” he said. “I’ve made it worse!”

Unexpectedly, a gleeful smile spread over the witch’s face, and she stretched out her hand for the amulet. Then she hugged her skirt around herself tightly, screwed her eyes shut in concentration, muttered a curse, and disappeared with a thunderous thwack, leaving a slight vacuum in the air as she went.

“It probably just needed a kick start,” said Tariro, who was the first to get his breath back. “You know, like loosening a jam jar.” Immediately he laid claim to the witch’s abandoned cat, putting an arm around Salih’s neck and knuckling him on the forehead. “Don’t worry, Puss,” he said in the patronizing tone used to pet a dog. “We’ll look after you.”
 

The leopard looked like he bore the indignity bravely, but Ethan’s skin crawled. He wasn’t sure why, but his hands twitched with the effort of not pulling Tariro off it. Strangely, it didn’t seem to have anything to do with vermin, or anxiety over Tariro getting his hands dirty. He just didn’t want the boy touching the cat.

They hovered in the clearing beside the Crystal Pool for a while, in case the witch had been able to switch with Joe. It crossed Ethan’s mind that if Joe did reappear, it would spoil the adventure.
No!
He shook his head. Why on earth had he thought that? He did not want an adventure. He wanted his cousin back.

Moments later, a large, motley collection of skin and bones exploded out of the darkness, yelped, rolled over and over, ricocheted off the riverbank and came to a halt before the campfire, looking slightly dazed. It stank of swamp.

“Who are you?” it said indistinctly, staggering towards the boys as they scrambled backwards to get away from it, nocking slingshots and raising machetes as they went. Ethan scanned their faces to see if anyone had heard it speak. No. Of course they hadn’t. It hadn’t actually spoken. Just a knowing, similar to the cool wave Salih sent through his head, but harsher, and warmer. It felt almost like a hot flush of embarrassment. His hand flew to his cheek. It even felt hot.

“Be careful what you wish for, boy,” the leopard said to Ethan in a smooth, wry tone before disentangling himself from Tariro, suddenly all sleek power. “Welcome,” he said to the hyena. “Do not be afraid. You appear to have been summoned to this place in error, but we will soon have you home again. Can you swim?”

“I’m Kishi,” it said, sticking its chin out in a determined way. “Kishi are never afraid.” Then its brain caught up with its mouth. “What do you mean ‘swim’?”
 

“Yes, we are going to swim down this river, back to Karibu with these boys,” Salih said to it, brooking no nonsense. “It is all arranged.” And with that, he stalked off into the bush.

Ethan directed a sour look at the cat. Distracted by the arrival of the hyena, he had not understood what Salih meant till he remembered his errant thought about Joe not switching with the witch. The Leopard had plucked that thought right out of his head! It made him feel horrible. He hadn’t really wished Joe would not switch back. He hoped his thought had not affected the outcome of the switch, like a wish or something.

He wondered if he should warn the others that the leopard could read their minds. At the very least, he would have to watch his own thoughts around the animal. Now Ethan wasn’t even sure if the cat had actually seen the image of Joe beaten up in the scry earlier, or if it had read that out of his imagination.

Realizing that everyone was waiting on him for an explanation, Ethan sighed. “Another pet, according to the leopard,” he said. “He’ll be coming with.” He gave the hyena a long despairing look. It had been a nonsensical day – what was one more talking animal.
 

One by one the boys relaxed the slingshots and machetes they had trained on the animal, and drifted off to bed behind him.
 

At first, the hyena hung about the camp, his head turning from side to side as if looking for answers, while everyone else crammed themselves under the mosquito nets for the night. Then he went prowling up and down the riverbank, alternately exploring, and muttering “swim!” indignantly under his breath.

Ethan settled down in his sleeping bag, wondering what a Kishi was. He sensed the hyena brightening considerably as it stumbled upon the remains of the duiker they had eaten for supper.

Oh no! I can feel it, even when it isn’t trying to speak.
As he fell asleep, he wondered if that was going to be a good thing or a pain in the neck.

When Ethan awoke dark shapes moved in the predawn light by the pool. Jimoh was busy packing things onto the inner-tube floats he had helped his dad make the day before.
 

“Only light things,” he said softly, scratching the hyena behind the ear. It nipped gently at his hand. Ethan wondered if Jimoh was also able to hear the creature talk, or if he just had a way with animals.
 

The leopard, who had crept in sometime during the night to lie too close to Ethan, shot up at the disturbance, and swept past him into the bushes without a word.

Ethan switched on his headlamp and quickly scanned his body to see if the leopard had passed him any fleas. After rummaging in his backpack for a small trowel and a length of toilet paper, he carefully made his way into the bushes to dig a hole, ever watchful for snakes. He wished he knew what it was, exactly, he had done to the opal the night before, and why he’d had such an irresistible urge to hold the amulet. For that matter, why did he feel so out of sorts with Tariro when he went to pet the leopard? It was not as if he wanted to touch the animal himself. Or did he?

By the time he got back, the boys were up and dismantling the shelter.

Tafadzwa tapped him on the shoulder and stood there beaming, holding out his precious slingshot for Ethan to take. It was beautifully engraved with a double-headed hornbill, its body along the shaft, and one scimitar beak pointing up each of the slingshot’s forks.

“He wants you to have it for luck on your journey,” Tendayi interpreted. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swallowing a lump in his throat. It must have taken Tafadzwa days to carve the thing.

“Please tell Tafadzwa I am honoured to have his slingshot, but I’ll only be borrowing it, and I’ll take good care of it. When I get back I’ll return it to him.” There was an awkward silence. Did the boys think he wouldn’t be coming back? On impulse, he unpacked his laptop and held it out to Tafadzwa. “Please will you look after this for me?” he asked. Then, turning towards Tendayi, he said, “Do you know how it works?”

“Yes, we have them in school.” Tendayi turned his attention to the computer. “Not as fancy as this, but I know how it works.”

“Does Tafadzwa know?”

“No,” Tendayi said. “They don’t have computers at the kraal school – no electricity.”

“If you can find a power source, do you think you could teach Tafadzwa? Even if it’s just how to play the games. There are some great movies on there too, if he wants to show the little kids.”

Two large tractor tubes floated on the water nearby. Little boys tested them for comfort and springiness with the help of the hyena, who had obviously overcome his apprehension for swimming. He wriggled about on his back on the hessian hammock in the middle of a tube, his paws in the air, laughing maniacally, while the boys jumped up and down on the edges of the tube trying to dislodge him. Every now and again they would bounce in just the right place and the hyena would go flying through the air to land with a terrific splash. Then the game would start all over again. No one seemed to care that their playmate was a wild animal, or that their trampoline was tethered to the supply tubes that were spinning and bobbing around wildly, threatening to capsize and drench the equipment which had been tied onto them.
 

The crocodiles lounged passively beside the pool. Not that Ethan could read their faces, but they didn’t look as if they were going to bite anyone. They seemed to wait patiently while Jimoh’s dad attached rope harnesses to them and linked them up, first with the supply tubes, then the transport tubes, and then a few tubes with nothing on them. Ethan could not get used to the idea that the crocodiles were behaving as docile as horses, and that they were actually going to drag him and the boys down the river. He wondered if he would be able to understand them as he had the hyena the night before. Concentrating hard on the one’s face, he tried to imagine what it was thinking, but he got no response. That meant the only way anyone could communicate with the creatures was if they went through Salih. Worse still, Ethan scowled, the only way anyone else could communicate with Salih appeared to be through him. Why him?

Even though it was still dark, Jimoh’s father wore his outback hat. After hugging his son, he shook Tariro and Ethan by the hand and solemnly transferred the hat to Ethan’s head. “You are very pale, Ethan,” he said. “You will need protection from the sun.”
 

“Thank you,” Ethan said, fidgeting the hat a little forwards on his head. He found himself swallowing the lump in his throat for the second time that day. Trying to compose himself, he turned quickly and scrambled onto the tube between Tariro and Jimoh. Tariro hesitated only slightly before he made space for Ethan, then he changed his mind.

“You got the hat, I have dibs on the middle,” he said, clambering over Ethan and planting his buttocks firmly in the centre of the tube. As the sun rose over the treetops, one powerful crocodile towed Salih and the hyena through a gap in the rapids and lead the flotilla downstream.

~~~

“Do you think they could go faster? Like skiing?” Tariro said, eyeing the two crocodiles that pulled them downstream. Amun and Darwishi, Salih had called them. Ethan was not that worried that he’d been unable to convince Tariro of his ability to communicate with the crocodiles via Salih, but it was a bit disconcerting that Tariro chose to see them as pack animals. He had cut himself a switch from a low-hanging branch to chivvy them along.

“I wouldn’t push your luck,” Ethan said. “Unless you want to lose an arm.” They had drifted peacefully behind the crocodiles so far. The river, about twenty-paces wide in places, was calm, deep green and shadowy, fringed by dense forest.

Jimoh sat on the tube propped up by Ethan’s backpack, pointing out wildlife as they went. “There,” he said, just before a plum-coloured starling took flight, its feathers shimmering with iridescent purple where they caught the sunlight.
 

“Shoo!” Tariro yelled, a moment later, firing a pebble from his slingshot at an ungainly ground hornbill as it strutted along the riverbank. It was ugly, black with vivid red patches of bare skin on its face and throat. He missed it, but the bird lumbered into the air, showing off a surprisingly large expanse of wings.

“Leave bird alone,” Jimoh said, giving him a black look.

“Why? It’s so ugly,” Tariro said. He settled back comfortably on the tube. “If I wasn’t so worried about Joe, I could grow to like this lifestyle.”
 

Both Jimoh and Ethan gave Tariro a skeptical look. “You probably wouldn’t last a day without the crocodiles,” Ethan said.

“Shh,” Jimoh whispered, nudging both boys on the shoulder and pointing a little upstream. A python swam along the shoreline. They watched as it slithered into the lower branches of a tree, revealing a long length of strikingly patterned coils. It hid there among the leaves, so perfectly camouflaged that they would never have spotted it if they had not seen it swimming. Ethan shuddered. It was so huge, one of the boys themselves could have been a tasty snack for the creature if they had drifted below it.
 

Salih and the hyena kept up a heated exchange on the other tube. Ethan grew used to the feeling of the warm and cool waves of their conversation whenever they drifted close enough.

Tariro pointed out a mother warthog, with four ugly piglets, wallowing in the mud on the narrow strip of riverbank. “They’re so hideous they’re cute,” he laughed, then loosed off another pebble from his slingshot. Their little tails stuck straight up in the air like antenna as they ran, panic stricken, for the cover of a nearby burrow. Ethan looked at Jimoh to see if he would tell Tariro to stop that.