The Ear, the Eye and the Arm (6 page)

Chloroform, he thought as the pain faded and he fell to the garbage on the ground.

Five

The Blue Monkey sat on the table and scratched itself. Its owner slumped in a chair at the side. The prizefighter carried two grain bags while the smaller, weasel-like man only had one. "I get ten percent," said the monkey.

"When the She Elephant sells them," said the small man.

"Don't make me wait too long. Remember, I can't go to jail if I squeal. I'm only a dumb animal."

"You can go to a laboratory," the small man said pleasantly.

"Ha, ha. Give me an advance so I can keep him in beer." The monkey jabbed a toe at its owner. The small man fished a fifty-dollar bill from his pocket.

"Let's get out before the chloroform wears off," urged the prizefighter. The monkey quickly tucked the money into its collar and snapped its teeth when the owner tried to take it. The two men shouldered their loads and headed for the nearest bus stop. They were on the last bus to take off before the police surrounded Mbare Musika.

Mother was sitting with a damp handkerchief twisted in her fingers. The dining room table had been cleared to make space for a computer. The police chief frowned as he clicked in information. "I can't keep my men away from their duties much longer," he said to Father.

"My children are missing!" Father shouted.

"Please understand me, General. Millions of people take public transport every day. No harm comes to them. I know you're worried, and I'm certainly checking all the buses, but isn't it too soon to panic?"

"You don't understand! These aren't just any children. The Masks would fall all over themselves to get them. Besides" — Father looked embarrassed — "they've never been on a bus."

The police chief stared at him in amazement. "The oldest one's thirteen!"

"I know. I know. I meant to give them freedom. You understand how it is. First they're babies. Then, when they walk, you worry about them falling into swimming pools and so forth. It was so easy to keep them here, hire tutors — don't look at me like that! I have lots of enemies."

"I wasn't criticizing," the police chief said mildly.

"When I was a boy, gangs were everywhere. I saw my brothers gunned down in the yard. I swore I would never expose my children to danger like that."

"Surely you, of all people, know gangs are almost extinct."

Father got up and paced around the room. Mother saw he was remembering the long war against crime when he was a young officer. The trouble with Amadeus, she thought, was that he had to be
doing
something. Waiting for the children to come home was completely foreign to his nature.

"I made Tendai weak," Father said.

"He's probably a lot stronger than you imagine," said the police chief.

Mother looked out the window. A group of policemen were clustered around a guava tree. The branches quivered. The policemen had shouted themselves hoarse and were clearly losing their tempers. They formed a circle around the tree and began to shake it violently. Ripe guavas plopped onto the lawn.

"It's that damn Mellower's fault," Father said. "He gave the children everything they wanted. He tricked me!"

The policemen were shaking the trunk so hard, Mother could hear it crack. All at once she heard a shriek, and the Mellower dropped out of the branches.

"Were you able to get any sense out of your Praise Singer before he, er, took to the trees?" asked the police chief.

Father looked sheepish. Mother glanced at the smashed glass on the rug, the bits of shattered chair near the wall. No, she thought, Amadeus hadn't handled that well at all. It took an hour to get more than a frightened squeak out of the man.

"What do you plan to do with him?" the police chief said.

"Drop him in the Lion Park. I'm sure they like poetry."

Mother looked up to see the police dragging in the disheveled Mellower. She was shocked to see his shirt was torn and his hands scratched. His lower lip puffed out, giving him a sulky expression.

"Amadeus, they didn't —" she began.

"Don't waste your pity on him!" Father yelled at her. "This isn't one of your tea parties! Do you want me to feed him cookies? Poor Mellower," he said in a wheedling tone. "Is he feeling out of sorts? Is he anx
ious?
Does he want to be the main course at the
crocodile farm?
Find my children if you want to see the sun rise!" Father lifted the Mellower right off the ground and shook him. The Praise Singer began to whimper.

"Fah!" said Father, dropping him. "I can't keep it up. It's like kicking a puppy."

And indeed, Mother thought, the Mellower looked just like a little dog that had been scolded for making a mess on the carpet. "He can't think if he's frightened," she said gently. "Let me talk to him. Alone."

"You always stick up for people," said Father, making it sound like a vice. But he took the police chief and his men out to the front lawn.

Mother waited patiently until the man stopped sniffling. She sent the butler robot for tea with cream and sugar. The Praise Singer's cup rattled against the saucer as he drank.

"Now," said Mother, "take a deep breath. No one's going to hurt you. When we're finished, you can go off to your room for a nap. I'm sure this is just as upsetting to you as to us."

"You're so kind," said the Mellower. "You're the kindest person I know — like a refreshing breeze drifting in the window when it's hot or a sparkling fountain in a garden —"

"Please!
No Praise! This isn't the time. I want you to tell me everything that happened before the children left."

"I —I tried."

"I know you did," Mother said encouragingly. "We were all a little excited. Now that you're relaxed, it will be easy to remember. Tell me everything, even if you think it isn't important."

So the Mellower described how he swung Kuda around and how Rita danced with glee. Mother had to swallow hard as she listened. She didn't believe — yet — that the children were in danger, but it was very worrying not to know where they were.

"They argued about taking Kuda," the man said. "Tendai thought he was too young, but the others shouted him down. Then — then he said they were going to Mbare Musika. Yes! That was it! They went to Mbare Musika! And they were going on to Beatrice."

"Wonderful!" Mother cried. "What else?"

But the Praise Singer couldn't recall anything else. "I have a suggestion," he said shyly as Mother rose to go.

She thought now he looked like a puppy that had successfully retrieved a ball. He almost wagged his tail.

"In stories, if someone gets lost, people hire a detective."

"A what?" said Mother.

"A sleuth, a gumshoe, a private eye.”
^:

"I never heard those words."

"They're used in children's books. I read a lot of children's books."

Yes, thought Mother, I'll bet you do.

"Anyhow, one day when I had nothing better to do, I checked the holophone directory for detectives. There's only one agency in Harare. It's called the Ear, the Eye and the Arm. It's in the Cow's Guts." Having delivered the ball, the Mellower sat back expectantly.

"Thank you. You're very clever," Mother said. "That's a brilliant idea." The Mellower sat up proudly and grinned. Really, he's almost a child himself, she thought. And he needs Praise just as much as the rest of us. Somehow she never thought of his having needs.

Mother told Amadeus about Mbare Musika and then, in her study, contacted the Ear, the Eye and the Arm Detective Agency.

Tendai was having a nightmare. He was sick and dizzy, crammed into a small space. He was surrounded by a hot, scratchy material. He thought he was going to vomit, and realized to his horror he had already done so.

A voice came from somewhere outside. "I don't take this bus any farther."

"Here's fifty dollars that says you do," said another voice.

"Sure. Get me onto Dead Man's Vlei, and I might as well give you the bus. Get out of here before I press the panic button."

Tendai felt himself swing into the air. That made him ill again. By the time he had recovered, he was on the ground and jouncing along at a great rate.

"I should have cut his throat," said a third voice from outside.

"Stuff it, Knife," said the person who was carrying Tendai. "We'd have cops on us like flies on your granny."

"Don't you insult my granny!" shouted Knife. "She's the best woman in the world."

"How come she keeps trying to turn us in?"

"That proves how good she is, Fist. She doesn't like lowdown crooks."

"I'll never understand you," said Fist.

Tendai went over the last moments at Mbare Musika. These must be the men who threw peanuts at the Blue Monkey. That rotten monkey! Tendai understood how betrayed Rita felt when the rat attacked her. Rita, he thought. Where is she? And Kuda?

He felt gently around the bag and found a Rita-sized lump pressing against the cloth.

Tendai still had his Scout knife, so he carefully cut a small opening and looked out. To the right, also bouncing along on Fist's back, was a second bag. Farther away, Knife carried a third one.

So they were all together. Tendai could rip through the cloth and yell for help — except that he didn't see people or buildings through the hole. They were being carried through a vast wasteland. Greasy gray hills rose on either side. The ground squelched under Fist's heavy feet, and his footprints filled with sludge. Everything looked impossibly used and discouraged.

This must be Dead Man's Vlei, thought Tendai. He didn't know anything about it, except that the bus driver refused to land there. What do I do now? he thought, I can't abandon Rita and Kuda. It struck Tendai that Father had been right all along: the minute they got outside, they
had
been kidnapped. Father will be furious when he finds out, thought Tendai with a lump in his throat. He'll blame me. I wonder
why
Fist and Knife want to carry us off.

So far, neither man had mentioned where they were going. Will they hold us for ransom? wondered Tendai. Maybe we're going to be
slaves!
The Mellower had told them about such things in bedtime stories.

The slave trade once flourished in Africa, the Praise Singer said. It still existed in Gondwanna. Children sent out to herd goats were snapped up by evil traders, loaded onto camels and taken to far cities where they suffered horribly. In the Mellower's stories, these children always escaped and wound up rich and happy. It sounded exciting, but right now, in the first part of the story — the suffering part — Tendai thought he would rather be home and bored.

Still, the idea of a real adventure lifted his spirits. He made another opening in the bag, next to Fist's belt. The belt was a crude twist of sisal. Tendai cut through it except for a few strands.

"I don't see the She Elephant," said Knife, startling Tendai so much he almost severed the belt completely.

"She's in the
shebeen.
Smell the pineapples?" Fist said. Even through the bag Tendai picked up the reek of overripe fruit.

"Come forth, my beauty!" shouted Fist. "Your glances stick to my heart like peanut butter to the gums!"

Knife cried, "See what gifts we bring, oh, generously shaped one, whose neck a louse may not climb without a rest."

"Hold your noise!" said a cross voice that seemed to come out of the earth. "Nag, nag, nag! The minute I sit down. Never a moment's peace. Wait up, you
tsotsis."

Knife and Fist laughed and shook out their bags. Tendai, Rita and Kuda fell onto the ground. Tendai pretended to be unconscious, but Rita scrambled to her feet and shrieked,, "You booboo heads! Wait'll my father gets his hands on you! You'll need a rocket ship to stay ahead of him!"

"Squeaks loudly, doesn't she?" remarked Fist.

"If I'm a mouse, you're a dirty old rat in a pile of rotten meat bones! Take us home at once!" screamed Rita.