legs.
She was almost there.
Something heavy slammed into the back of her legs and Lindsey fell into the dirt and leaves on the floor. Hard hands wrapped around her, grabbed at her, twisted her to face the sky.
“Don’t you ever do that again.” It was Yellow Eyes, breathing hard, spit bubbling on his chin and staining his shirt.
The other man arrived with a dirty brown rope in his hand. He tied it around her ankles while Yellow Eyes held her down.
“Let’s get her in the boot and get out of here,” Yellow Eyes said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The old man sat in his favorite chair. It was a recliner he had picked up at a jumble sale more than twenty years before. It conformed to the shape of his body, caressing his thighs and his back. His fingers knew every crease and stitch in the armrests. It was the best kind of old friend; one who still knew you even after a long absence.
The small house hummed with the sound of his family. Women sang together in the kitchen, his wife and daughters preparing pap and vleis for the evening meal. Children shrieked and laughed in the yard outside, the creak-crick of trampoline springs filling the warm afternoon.
He closed his eyes, let the sounds and smells fill him.
A hand on his shoulder woke him with a start. “Tata, it is time for dinner.” His daughter, Evelyn, smiled at him. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
“Thank you, my child.” His knees popped as he rose; the muscles in his back needed encouragement to get moving too.
Expectant faces turned to him as he entered the dining room. The children crowded around a plastic table off to one side of the main dining table. The family had grown so large now, his family. He smiled at all the children and spouses and took his seat at the head of the long wooden table.
Thandeka, his third wife, smiled and started heaping ladles of stiff white mielie pap onto the plates around the table. Evelyn, his oldest daughter, followed her, placing a lamb chop and a fat piece of wors beside each portion of pap . Finally, Sabina, his youngest daughter, poured a thick tomato-and-onion sauce on top of the food. His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered.
He broke off a lump of the pap and dipped it into the sauce. It was almost to his lips when Jacob, the oldest of his five grandchildren and nearly a man, looked at him with his eager eyes.
“Tell us about your training, Tata,” Jacob said.
“Don’t interrupt your grandfather when he’s eating.” Evelyn swatted at Jacob’s right shoulder, the nearest body part she could reach from her seat on the other side of the dining table.
“It’s all right,” the old man said. He put the pap into his mouth, savoring the rich flavor of the sauce, and then swallowed. “Jacob will go for initiation soon; it is good for him to know what a man goes through in the bush.
“I was a young man, not much older than you, when I went to Mozambique. I went to stay with the Mandawe tribe there. Some of their men had lived in our village in KwaZulu when they came to South Africa to work when the gold mines were first built. I’d tended their graves in the village. I spent time invoking the spirits of their ancestors and communicating with them.
“They came to me in a dream and told me I must go to Mozambique and learn from their descendants.
“I saved all my money and, when I had enough, I went to do ukuthwasa rites with a sangoma in their village. I learned quickly. It only took one year for them to teach me everything they knew about being a sangoma .”
“Do you think I could be a sangoma ?” Jacob asked.
The old man looked at him. He was a strong child, tall with a good amount of muscle on him, but he was also smart, smarter than any of the other grandchildren.
“Yes,” the old man said. “I think that if the ancestors called you, you would be a very powerful sangoma .”
“Baba!” Thandeka chided the old man. “Don’t put ideas in the boy’s head. He
She was almost there.
Something heavy slammed into the back of her legs and Lindsey fell into the dirt and leaves on the floor. Hard hands wrapped around her, grabbed at her, twisted her to face the sky.
“Don’t you ever do that again.” It was Yellow Eyes, breathing hard, spit bubbling on his chin and staining his shirt.
The other man arrived with a dirty brown rope in his hand. He tied it around her ankles while Yellow Eyes held her down.
“Let’s get her in the boot and get out of here,” Yellow Eyes said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The old man sat in his favorite chair. It was a recliner he had picked up at a jumble sale more than twenty years before. It conformed to the shape of his body, caressing his thighs and his back. His fingers knew every crease and stitch in the armrests. It was the best kind of old friend; one who still knew you even after a long absence.
The small house hummed with the sound of his family. Women sang together in the kitchen, his wife and daughters preparing pap and vleis for the evening meal. Children shrieked and laughed in the yard outside, the creak-crick of trampoline springs filling the warm afternoon.
He closed his eyes, let the sounds and smells fill him.
A hand on his shoulder woke him with a start. “Tata, it is time for dinner.” His daughter, Evelyn, smiled at him. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
“Thank you, my child.” His knees popped as he rose; the muscles in his back needed encouragement to get moving too.
Expectant faces turned to him as he entered the dining room. The children crowded around a plastic table off to one side of the main dining table. The family had grown so large now, his family. He smiled at all the children and spouses and took his seat at the head of the long wooden table.
Thandeka, his third wife, smiled and started heaping ladles of stiff white mielie pap onto the plates around the table. Evelyn, his oldest daughter, followed her, placing a lamb chop and a fat piece of wors beside each portion of pap . Finally, Sabina, his youngest daughter, poured a thick tomato-and-onion sauce on top of the food. His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered.
He broke off a lump of the pap and dipped it into the sauce. It was almost to his lips when Jacob, the oldest of his five grandchildren and nearly a man, looked at him with his eager eyes.
“Tell us about your training, Tata,” Jacob said.
“Don’t interrupt your grandfather when he’s eating.” Evelyn swatted at Jacob’s right shoulder, the nearest body part she could reach from her seat on the other side of the dining table.
“It’s all right,” the old man said. He put the pap into his mouth, savoring the rich flavor of the sauce, and then swallowed. “Jacob will go for initiation soon; it is good for him to know what a man goes through in the bush.
“I was a young man, not much older than you, when I went to Mozambique. I went to stay with the Mandawe tribe there. Some of their men had lived in our village in KwaZulu when they came to South Africa to work when the gold mines were first built. I’d tended their graves in the village. I spent time invoking the spirits of their ancestors and communicating with them.
“They came to me in a dream and told me I must go to Mozambique and learn from their descendants.
“I saved all my money and, when I had enough, I went to do ukuthwasa rites with a sangoma in their village. I learned quickly. It only took one year for them to teach me everything they knew about being a sangoma .”
“Do you think I could be a sangoma ?” Jacob asked.
The old man looked at him. He was a strong child, tall with a good amount of muscle on him, but he was also smart, smarter than any of the other grandchildren.
“Yes,” the old man said. “I think that if the ancestors called you, you would be a very powerful sangoma .”
“Baba!” Thandeka chided the old man. “Don’t put ideas in the boy’s head. He
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