Under African Skies (9 page)

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Authors: Charles Larson

BOOK: Under African Skies
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“All right, I won't say it again.”
I went into the chicken run, and he came after me. The pipes were hot, and I had to move them with a cloth. The dust that rose was dense and suffocating.
“What are you looking for? Shall I help you?”
I began to move the blocks one by one and Nandito did the same. “Get away!”
He went to the other end of the run and began to cry.
When I had removed the last block of the pile I saw the snake. It was a mamba, very dark in color. When it realized it had been discovered, it wound itself up more tightly and lifted its triangular head. Its eyes shone vigilantly and its black forked tongue quivered menacingly.
I drew back against the fence, then sat down on the ground. “Don't cry, Nandito.”
“You're nasty. You don't want to play with me.”
“Don't cry anymore. I'll play with you just now. Don't cry.”
We both sat quietly. The little head of the snake came slowly to rest on the topmost coil, and the rest of its body stopped trembling. But it continued to watch me attentively.
“Nandito, say something, talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything you like.”
“I don't feel like saying anything.”
Nandito was still rubbing his eyes and feeling resentful toward me.
“Have you ever seen a snake? Do you like snakes? Are you scared of them? Answer me!”
“Where are the snakes?” Nandito jumped up in terror, and looked around.
“In the bush. Sit down and talk.”
“Aren't there any snakes here?”
“No. Talk. Talk to me about snakes.”
Nandito sat down very close to me.
“I'm very frightened of snakes. Mama says it's dangerous to go out in the bush because of them. When we're walking in the grass we can step on one by mistake and get bitten. When a snake bites us we die. Sartina says that if a snake bites us and we don't want to die we must kill it, burn it till it's dry, then eat it. She says she's already eaten a snake, so she won't die even if she gets bitten.”
“Have you ever seen a snake?”
“Yes, in Chico's house. The servant killed it in the chicken run.”
“What was it like?”
“It was big and red, and it had a mouth like a frog.”
“Would you like to see a snake now?”
Nandito got up and leaned against me fearfully. “Is there a snake in the chicken run? I'm scared—let's get out.”
“If you want to get out, go away. I didn't call you to come in here.”
“I'm frightened to go alone.”
“Then sit here until I feel like going out.”
The two of us stayed very quiet for a while.
Toto and Wolf were playing outside the fence. They were running from one post to another, going all the way round and starting again. At every post they raised a leg and urinated.
Then they came inside the chicken run and lay on their stomachs to rest. Wolf saw the snake immediately and began to bark. Toto barked as well, although he had his back turned toward it.
“Brother, are there always snakes in every chicken run?”
“No.”
“Is there one in here?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, why don't we go out. I'm scared!”
“Go out if you want to—go on!”
Wolf advanced toward the snake, barking more and more frenziedly. Toto turned his head, but still did not realize what was wrong.
Wolf's legs were trembling and he pawed the ground in anguish. Now and again he looked at me uncomprehendingly, unable to understand why I did not react to his hysterical alarm. His almost human eyes were filled with panic.
“Why is he barking like that?”
“Because he's seen the snake.”
The mamba was curled up in the hollow between some blocks, and it unwound its body to give itself the most solid support possible. Its head and the raised neck remained poised in the air, unaffected by the movement of the rest of its body. Its eyes shone like fires.
Wolf's appeals were now horribly piercing, and his hair was standing up around his neck.
Leaning against the fence, Tina and Lolota and Madunana looked on curiously.
“Why don't you kill the snake?” Nandito's voice was very tearful and he was clutching me around the neck.
“Because I don't feel like it.”
The distance between the snake and the dog was about five feet. However, the snake had inserted its tail in the angle formed between a block and the ground, and had raised its coils one by one, preparing for the strike. The triangular head drew back imperceptibly, and the base of the lifted neck came forward. Seeming to be aware of the proximity of his end, the dog began to bark even more frantically, without, however, trying to get away from the snake. From a little way behind, Toto, now on his feet as well, joined in the barking.
For a fraction of a second the neck of the snake curved while the head leaned back. Then, as if the tension of its pliant body had snapped a cord that fastened its head to the ground, it shot forward in a lightning movement impossible to follow. The dog had raised himself on his hind legs like a goat, and the snake struck him full on the chest. Free of support, the tail of the snake whipped through the air, reverberating with the movement of the last coil.
Wolf fell on his back with a suppressed whine, pawing convulsively. The mamba abandoned him immediately, and with a spring disappeared between the pipes.
“A
nhoka
!”
3
screamed Sartina.
Nandito threw me aside and ran out of the chicken run with a yell, collapsing into the arms of Madunana. As soon as he felt free of the snake, Wolf vanished in half a dozen leaps in the direction of Senhor Castro's house.
The children all started to cry without having understood what had happened. Sartina took Nandito to the house, carrying him in her arms. Only when the children disappeared behind Sartina did I call Madunana to help me kill the snake.
Madunana waited with a cloth held up high while I moved the pipes with the aid of a broomstick. As soon as the snake appeared Madunana threw the cloth over it, and I set to beating the heap with my stick.
 
When Papa came back from work Nandito had come round from the shock, and was weeping copiously. Mama, who had not yet been to see the snake, went with Papa to the chicken run. When I went there as well, I saw Papa turn the snake over onto its back with a stick.
“I don't like to think of what a snake like this could have done to one
of my children.” Papa smiled. “Or to anyone else. It was better this way. What hurts me is to think that these six feet of snake were attained at the expense of my chickens …”
At this point Senhor Castro's car drew up in front of our house. Papa walked up to him, and Mama went to talk to Sartina. I followed after Papa.
“Good afternoon, Senhor Castro …”
“Listen, Tchembene, I've just found out that my pointer is dead, and his chest's all swollen. My natives tell me that he came howling from your house before he died. I don't want any back-chat, and I'm just telling you—either you pay compensation or I'll make a complaint at the Administration. He was the best pointer I ever had.”
“I've just come back from work—I don't know anything …”
“I don't care a damn about that. Don't argue. Are you going to pay or aren't you?”
“But, Senhor Castro …”
“Senhor Castro nothing. It's 700 paus.
4
And it's better if the matter rests here.”
“As you like, Senhor Castro, but I don't have the money now …”
“We'll see about that later. I'll wait until the end of the month, and if you don't pay then, there'll be a row.”
“Senhor Castro, we've known each other such a long time, and there's never …”
“Don't try that with me. I know what you all need—a bloody good hiding is the only thing …”
Senhor Castro climbed into his car and pulled away. Papa watched while the car drove off. “Son of a bitch …”
I went up to him and tugged at the sleeve of his coat. “Papa, why didn't you say that to his face?”
He didn't answer.
 
We had hardly finished supper when Papa said, “Mother, tell Sartina to clear the table quickly. My children, let us pray. Today we are not going to read the Bible. We will simply pray.”
Papa talked in Ronga, and for this reason I regretted having asked him that question a while ago.
When Sartina finished clearing away the plates and folded the cloth, Papa began, “Tatana, ha ku dumba hosi ya tilo misaba …”
5
When he finished, his eyes were red.
“Amen!”
“Amen!”
Mama got up and asked, as if it meant nothing. “But what did Senhor Castro want, after all?”
“It's nothing important.”
“All right, tell me about it in our room. I'll go and set out the children's things. You, Ginho, wake up early tomorrow and take a laxative …”
When they had all gone away, I asked Papa, “Papa, why do you always pray when you are very angry?”
“Because He is the best counselor.”
“And what counsel does He give you?”
“He gives me no counsel. He gives me strength to continue.”
“Papa, do you believe a lot in Him?”
Papa looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time, and then exploded. “My son, one must have a hope. When one comes to the end of a day, and one knows that tomorrow will be another day just like it, and that things will always be the same, we have got to find the strength to keep on smiling, and keep on saying, ‘This is not important!' We ourselves have to allot our own reward for the heroism of every day. We have to establish a date for this reward, even if it's the day of our death! Even today you saw Senhor Castro humiliate me: this was only part of today's portion, because there were many things that happened that you didn't see. No, my son, there must be a hope! It must exist! Even if all this only denies Him, He must exist!”
Papa stopped suddenly, and forced himself to smile. Then he added, “Even a poor man has to have something. Even if it is only a hope! Even if it's a false hope!”
“Papa, I could have prevented the snake from biting Senhor Castro's dog …”
Papa looked at me with his eyes full of tenderness, and said under his breath, “It doesn't matter. It's a good thing that he got bitten.”
Mama appeared at the door. “Are you going to let the child go to sleep or not?”
I looked at Papa, and we remembered Senhor Castro and both of us burst out laughing. Mama didn't understand.
“Are you two going crazy?!”
“Yes, and it's about time we went crazy,” said Papa with a smile.
Papa was already on the way to his room, but I must have talked too loud. Anyway, it was better that he heard, “Papa, I sometimes … I don't really know … but for some time … I have been thinking that I didn't love you all. I'm sorry …”
Mama didn't understand what we had been saying, so she became angry. “Stop all this, or else …”
“Do you know, my son”—Papa spoke ponderously, and gesticulated a lot before every word—“the most difficult thing to bear is that feeling of complete emptiness … and one suffers very much … very, very, very much. One grows with so much bottled up inside, but afterwards it is difficult to scream, you know.”
“Papa, and when Senhor Castro comes? …”
Mama was going to object, but Papa clutched her shoulder firmly. “It's nothing, Mother, but, you know, our son believes that people don't mount wild horses, and that they only make use of the hungry, docile ones. Yet when a horse goes wild it gets shot down, and it's all finished. But tame horses die every day. Every day, do you hear? Day after day, after day—as long as they can stand on their feet.”
Mama looked at him with her eyes popping out.
“Do you know, Mother, I'm afraid to believe that this is true, but I also can't bring myself to tell him that it's a lie … He sees, even today he saw … I only wish for the strength to make sure that my children know how to recognize other things …”
Papa and Mama were already in their room, so I couldn't hear any more, but even from there Mama yelled, “Tomorrow you'll take a laxative, that'll show you. I'm not like your father who lets himself get taken in …”

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