TEN

WHEN WEPARTEDfromthecrowdthatwasbusily generatinghermyth, Dad led us through the bushpaths and into the forest. I walked in a drunken haze beside him. We passed a tree whose lower branches were covered with yellow dresses. A black cat followed us from a distance. It was dark in the forest till we got to aclearing. In themiddleoftheclearingasolitary woodenpolehadbeenstuckintothe earth. The pole had burst into flower. Little buds had grown out along its length and some of the buds had opened into the beginnings of branches. Dad said:

‘This is what you must be like. Grow wherever life puts you down.’ I stared at the flowering pole. Then, touching my head affectionately, Dad told me to stay there and wait for him. He went off and I listened to his footsteps recede into the forest.

A yellow wind stirred the leaves. Branches cracked. An animal cried out. The black cat, eyes aglow, ran past me in the direction Dad had gone. It looked back at me once. I waited. Noises accumulated in the forest. An owl flew over my head and watched me from a branch. I heard footsteps approaching and I could have sworn that they belonged to a heavy man, but when I looked I saw an antelope. It came up to me, stopped near the pole, and stared at me. Then it came closer and licked my feet. When a branch cracked amongst the trees, the antelope started and ran off. I waited, motionless. It began to drizzle. Water flowed down the invisible paths of the forest and collected at my feet. Again, I heard converging footsteps all around me. Then I saw something move. The air swelled. A woman stepped out of a tree and limped towards me. Her head hung loosely on her neck. She stared at me from her shapeless face and she walked with her body leaning in one direction. She was deformed in a way I couldn’t define. She had on a white robe. Her eyes were dark and small. When she got quite close to me she stopped and started laughing. I didn’t move. The wind startled the branches. The water at my feet made me shiver. The woman, laughing rather dementedly, walked round me. Her face was twisted and her eyes shone in the darkening lights. When she was in front of me again, she slowly stretched her hands out towards my neck. At the same moment, the owl, uttering its nocturnal cry, flew from the branch and swooped past, circling us twice. It made another cry and soared upwards. A crack sounded, like a tree splitting, and I saw the owl falling, as though it had been shot in the mid-air of a dream. It landed on the earth and struggled, wings flapping feebly. Then it turned into a little pool of yellow water and evaporated into the air.

The woman stopped laughing. Instead of reaching for my neck with her rough hands, she grabbed the flowering pole and began pulling it out of the earth, a satanic expression on her face. Shewrenched thepole, andshehadtokeep pullingbecauseit had developed strong roots. When she had successfully wrenched out the pole along with its deep roots, she turned and dragged it behind her.

As I watched her limpingaway Inoticed,amongtheroots,aglisteningblacksnake covered with earth. The snake wound its way up the pole, towards the woman’s hands, as she dragged it with her deeper into the forest. After a while I didn’t see her any more. Then I heard a sharp cry. Then silence. I did not move. It had begun to grow very dark. A millipede climbed up my leg and I did not disturb it. I saw the black cat again. It came towards me, slunk past, and ran off in the direction we had originally come from. Not long afterwards I saw Dad emerging from the forest with a great sack on his shoulder. He looked exhausted, as if he had been wrestling with demons. When he got to where I was standing he said:

‘Did you move?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

I reached down and flicked the millipede off my leg.

‘Did you seeanythinghappen?’

‘A woman came out of a tree. An owl fell down and turned to air. Water gathered at my feet.’

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home.’

We set off. I didn’t see the black cat anywhere. I asked Dad:

‘Why did the woman tear the pole out of the earth?’

‘What pole?’

‘The one that was there.’

‘Where?’

‘There.’

‘There wasn’t a pole there,’ he said.

I didn’t speak for a while. Then I said:

‘A snake came out of its roots and bit her.’

‘That’s good. Life is full of riddles that only the dead can answer,’ was Dad’s reply.

We went home in silence. We went down numerous paths. A doglimped in front and then it stopped to stare at us. Blood dripped from the sack on Dad’s shoulder. Blood had widened and dried on the bandage on his forehead.

‘What did you catch?’ I asked.

‘A wild boar.’

‘Why are you bleeding?’

‘The trap caught the boar and it didn’t die. It was still struggling when I got there. I had to kill it with my hands. It kicked my head.’

I walked behind him in silence, listening to the forest noises and to the sound of his breathing. The journey home seemed longer than the journey out. When we came to the palm-wine bar the madame was nailing up her signboard. I couldn’t read its legend in the dark. She regarded us as we passed. Dad saluted her. She didn’t reply.

When we got to our new home the children ran out to meet us. The men came to help Dad with the sack, but he didn’t want any help. The women talked excitedly. Our door was open. Folding chairs had been arranged all around the tiny space. The centre table was loaded with drinks. There was a bowl of kola-nuts and kaoline on the floor. There was the potent aroma of fresh stew in the air. The room was empty. Dad went to the backyard and we found Mum in the kitchen. She was fanning the wood fire, tears running down her face, a mighty pot on the grate. When she saw us she came out and held Dad tight and picked me up. Dad put the sack down on the kitchen floor. He looked at me for a moment, and said:

‘I have kept my promise.’

Then he went out of the kitchen, to the room, came back with towel and soap, fetched water fromthewell, and had alongbath.IstayedwithMuminthekitchen,coughing when she coughed. The water boiled in the pot. Women of the compound came and helpedherwithgettingtheboaroutofthesack.They pouredboilingwateronitsskin, loosening its hair. They shaved it. Five men helped them butcher the fierce-looking animal. They decapitated it, cut it to pieces and gutted out its monstrous intestines. Then the women began the cooking of the wild animal that Dad had caught in the forest.

When the meat was cooking, on another fire a great pan was sizzlingwith oil. The whole compound smelt of aromatic stew, peppers, onions, wild earthy herbs, and frying bushmeat. When everyone could be seen salivating in anticipation, Mum made me go and bathe. I wore a new set of clothes. Visitors and compound-dwellers came one by one to our room. They took their seats. Mum combed my hair and gave me a parting. Dad also had a parting. Mum bathed. In the bathroom she dressed up in her fine clothes. She did her hair and made up her face in the passage.

Soon our little room was crowded with all kinds of people. Many of them were from our compound, one or two were from our previous habitation, a few of them were total strangers, and a lot of them were children. It was hot in the room and everyone sweated. All the chairs were filled and all the floor space taken. A woman struck up a song. A man struck up a more vigorous song. The children looked on. Mum came in with a plate of alligator pepper seeds, a saucer of cigarettes, and breadfruit. And then we heard a flourish outside.

It was Dad. He was at the doorway with an empty bottle in one hand, a spoon inthe other. He was beating a tune out of glass. He wore a black French suit and had a fresh change of bandages. An eagle’s feather stuck out from the back of his head. He looked happy and a little drunk. He came in, beating his metallic tune on glass, dancing and singing to the music of his own invention. The crowd laughed, cheering in appreciation. Everyone began to chatter. Voices rose in volume. Jokes passed across the sweating faces. I felt a stranger amidst the celebration of my homecoming.