The Ear, the Eye and the Arm (23 page)

If Father had a really big problem, involving state matters, he went to an entirely different person, the Lion Spirit Medium, who was able to contact the
mhondoro,
the spirit of the land. Only two people in the country were qualified to do this, and Tendai was never taken to one of these possessions. Lion Spirit Mediums looked down on ordinary mediums, the way great concert musicians looked down on people who played the harmonica.

"I feel sick. The water was dirty," moaned Rita.

"You can't vomit now," Tendai told her. "You have to, you know, save it for later."

"Oh, leave me alone!" cried Rita. She curled up by the wall with her back to him.

Then it got dark. The hut had no windows, but a few glimmers of light had shone through the gaps between the thatch and the top of the wall. Now it was totally black. A stealthy rustling told Tendai they were not alone. He began to feel things walking across his body. The rapid ones were probably roaches. The ones that tickled were ants, and the one that took a long time to cross his hand (which he held perfectly still) could have been a centipede.

"Get off! Get them off me!" shrieked Rita, slapping at something.

"Don't hit them. You'll only make them angry."

"Help me!" Rita wailed, so Tendai groped his way to her side. He brushed off her skin. The creatures seemed no more dangerous than sugar ants, but something worried him far more. Her skin was too warm.

Rita was sick. It hadn't occurred to him that her irritable mood might have a cause. What do I do now? he thought desperately. People almost never got diseases anymore, but Resthaven was different.

What kind of germs would they allow here? he thought. In a place that accepted infanticide and witch trials, anything was possible. He felt Rita's skin again. She was
hot.
He poured a little of the remaining water into his hand and rubbed it over her face.

"Stop it!" she cried.

"I'm trying to cool you down." He tried to blow on her skin — it was the only thing he could think of — but Rita struck him, knocked over the pot and spilled the rest of the water. In spite of his good resolutions, Tendai slapped her back.

"Crazy girl," he muttered as he crawled to the other side of the hut. Rita didn't respond. That was even more worrying: she never missed an opportunity to get even. After a while, he crawled back in an effort to make up.

They were sitting together when the villagers came for them. The men burst in and dragged them out to a cook fire. Tendai's stomach reacted to the smell of popcorn someone was preparing in a large pot.

"The lion wants his dinner," a man
 
said
 
as Tendai's belly grumbled, but no one offered any food.

They were pushed along a forest path. Men went before and behind with torches; the bushes seemed to press in on all sides. Once, an owl hooted and they all ducked. "It's looking for its witch master," someone whispered. The others laughed nervously. On they went, gradually moving up from the stream. Not far away, Tendai could see the wall. It rose, massive and dark, against the stars.

They came through a tangle of thorn-bushes to a large clearing. A fire burned in the middle, and all around stood the villagers. Behind the fire, set into the side of a cliff, was a cave. The Spirit Medium sat in the opening. His skinniness made him seem even more like a messenger from the world of the ancestors. He was dressed in a bark loincloth and wore the pottery
ndoro
around his neck. Clustered at the mouth of the cave were clay pots that probably contained the
muteyo.
The drums beat hypnotically.

On another stool at the edge of the crowd sat Garikayi. He looked like any other old man. All the authority of being a chief had gone to the Spirit Medium. Myanda stood behind Garikayi and at his feet lay Chipo.

 
"She's still weak from childbirth. They're so cruel," said Rita. The men shoved her and Tendai into the clearing, and Tendai was alarmed to see Trashman with Kuda perched on his broad shoulders. Surely they won't have to go through the ordeal, he thought.

Now the drumming grew more frenzied. The people began to clap. A man played a monotonous tune on an
mbira.
His thumbnail twanged the flat iron keys of the instrument, and the sound resonated inside the calabash on his knees. Women shook rattles with river pebbles in them. A man played a reed flute. The music was wild and infectious. Tendai's body began to move to it in spite of himself. Rita began to tremble. All around, the music vibrated through the assembled villagers, making them sway like a wind driving through a wheat field.

"Eh!" shouted the Spirit Medium. "Eh! Eh! Eh!" He sprang to his feet and began to dance. His arms jerked back and forth, and his feet smacked the ground, raising puffs of dust. "Eh! Eh! Eh!" He seemed to be on puppet strings. He lunged forward in grotesque spurts around the clearing. His head wobbled on his skinny neck, and his eyes rolled up until only the whites were showing. The music went faster and faster.

"Eeeeaugh!" The Spirit Medium fell on the ground and shook as though a huge lion had him in its jaws. Several men rushed from the sidelines to hold him down. The medium threw back his head and bared his teeth. Even four men had trouble restraining him. "Augh! Augh! Augh!" He suddenly went limp.

The men hauled him back to his stool and propped him up. A woman knelt before him with a bowl of millet beer. The Spirit Medium didn't move. He
couldn't
move: his face was knotted with anguish, and the muscles of his neck stood out like cords. Very gently, the men bent the medium's body forward until his lips touched the beer. He began to lap it like a dog.

All at once an astonishing change came over the Spirit Medium. He drew himself up without any help, and the men backed away hurriedly. He seemed to grow right before Tendai's eyes. His face was painted with firelight, but his back was hidden in shadow.

"My people," he said in a deep, deep voice. If Tendai hadn't heard it, he wouldn't have believed it came from the same man. The voice sounded as though it rose out of the earth. "I am
mudzimu.
A dirty spirit has invaded this clan, and we must seek it out." The medium began to stalk around the clearing, skewering the villagers with his gaze. They flinched when he looked at them.

"This one must take the
muteyo "
he cried suddenly, pointing at an old woman Tendai recognized as one of the midwives. She moaned and sank to her knees. "This one . . . and this one," the Spirit Medium went on in his deep voice. He pointed out Myanda and Chipo. He passed by Kuda and Trashman; Tendai breathed a sigh of relief. Then he came around the circle. "This one," he said, pointing at Rita. He stared a long time at Tendai, his eyes fixed on the true
ndoro.

Tendai forced himself to look directly at the man's face. He would not desert Rita. Not this time.

The Spirit Medium turned his attention from the
ndoro
to Tendai's face. Tendai expected to see hatred, but what he detected was far more surprising: it wasn't the Spirit Medium at all! The shape was the same, but the
presence
hovering inside the man's body was completely different. It gazed at him from a vast distance, full of deep knowledge he couldn't begin to understand. It neither approved nor disapproved of him, but it
knew
him right down to the soles of his feet.

"This one," said the Spirit Medium.

He strode back to the ceremonial stool and motioned for the assistants to administer the
muteyo.
They brought pots to the old midwife, to Myanda and Chipo. A woman removed two more from a special shelf in the wall of the cave. Wouldn't you know it, Tendai thought bitterly. He has it all set up for us.

"Come back," commanded the Spirit Medium. Instantly, the woman turned, and he smashed the pots out of her hand. The crowd moaned with terror. Tendai realized the man who was the Spirit Medium might have petty hatreds, but
mudzimu
inside his body had no patience with such things. "Take those," ordered
mudzimu.
Trembling, the woman fetched two more pots from the cluster at the cave entrance. She presented one to Rita, who stuck her tongue out.

Please don't do anything stupid, Tendai silently prayed, but Rita obediently gulped the
muteyo
down. At once, she doubled up and vomited right at his feet. Several people moved away with expressions of dismay. Lucky Rita, thought Tendai. She's already so sick, she doesn't need chicken droppings.

Then it was his turn. Tendai drank the
muteyo.
It was sweetish and not at all unpleasant
.
It reminded him slightly of the
rooibos
tea Mother gave them on cold mornings. He felt for the bag of chicken droppings hidden in his loincloth. How was he ever going to take it out with this crowd watching him? But he needn't have worried. When the
muteyo
hit his stomach, it turned on him like a rabid hyena. Pain wrenched his throat. He dropped to his hands and knees, retching up the poison like a dog that had eaten rotten meat.

Tendai was so sick, he didn't even have time to feel ashamed. He vomited until it felt like the two sides of his stomach were pressed together. And still he heaved until he fell over on his side from sheer weakness. "Drink some water," a man said kindly, holding a calabash to his lips. A woman bent and washed Rita's face with a cloth.

Tendai's head was thudding with pain. The man gave him more water and patted his shoulder. "You're okay now." Suddenly, the villagers were all smiles. Tendai and Rita had proved they weren't witches. Everyone could like them again.

"Oooh," wailed Rita, rocking back and forth and holding onto her stomach. Across the way, Tendai saw the old midwife writhing in a pool of vomit. Her face was an alarming shade of gray.
 
Chipo, too, was gaping and coughing, while anxious women held her shoulders and murmured encouragement. But Myanda?

Myanda stood like a sturdy tree behind Garikayi. Her face was shiny with sweat and she seemed to be concentrating deeply, but she wasn't sick. Please, Tendai prayed to the unknown ancestor whose
ndoro
he wore. Please make her sick. But Myanda was too strong. Her body refused to give in.

The minutes passed. People drew away from the gatekeeper, and even the drummer stopped his incessant tattoo. The old midwife was lifted and carried off into the dark. Tendai hoped she would recover. Chipo was tenderly laid next to the fire. Her face was sponged and her feet massaged. And still Myanda stood with the sweat dripping off her body. Garikayi wrung his hands as he watched.

He loves her, thought Tendai in amazement. She was the old wife, the outsider who could not give him children. By all the laws of the tribe, Garikayi should have rejected her, but he didn't.

"Confess or die," said
mudzimu
from inside the Spirit Medium's body.

"Please," said Garikayi, clenching his hands until the bones stood out. Myanda held her stomach,
 
and the sides of her mouth curved down with despair. She was in severe pain, Tendai realized. And still she was unable to expel the
muteyo.

"Confess!" cried several voices from the crowd. "Confess, witch!" Everyone began to shout at her. For years the villagers had lived with her, eaten her food and allowed her to stand between them and the outside world. Now all that was forgotten. Even Chipo shrank from her. Only Garikayi watched her with compassion.

"Quiet!" he shouted at the villagers. The hubbub died away. "My senior wife," he addressed Myanda. "You came to us from
Mwari’s
country. We accepted you. We still do." He looked around, daring the others to object. "Witchcraft has entered you but it can be driven out. I will provide the sacrifices, as many as are needed. You know this can be done!" His fierce eyes challenged the villagers. The Spirit Medium watched quietly from the shadows.

"But you must confess. Otherwise you will die."
Please. It's the only way I can save you,
the eyes of the old chief said.

Myanda writhed in agony. The pain brought her to her knees. Suddenly, she threw back her head and screamed, "Yes! Yes! I am a witch!" Rita grabbed Tendai's arm in terror. "I rode hyenas after dark! I made
chidoma,
bogeymen, out of dead bodies! I caused Chipo to have twins! Augh! Augh!" Myanda scurried on hands and knees into the bushes. The villagers followed her eagerly.

Tendai was shaking as though he had a fever. Rita clung to his arm so tightly she cut off the circulation to his hand. The sounds of Myanda crashing through bushes died away, along with the excited voices of the people who had followed her.