his.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s as it should be, Gideon.”
“Then perhaps you will try to make up whatever quarrel it is that you have with Memsa Dora,” he advised quietly. “It is not good to carry anger inside you. It makes for a heavy journey.”
He turned and raised his arm. Moses raised his in return, a broad smile crossing his face.
“I’ll try, Gideon,” I promised.
The walk to the village was easy in the cool morning air, and when we arrived, their babu was sitting outside to receive us. Gideon and Moses went through the usual ceremonies, and I waited my turn before bowing my head. “Shikamoo, Mzee.”
“Marahaba.”
“Asante,” I replied. And that was the end of our Swahili. The babu said something to one of the women loitering about and she went into the hut, appearing a moment later with the usual calabashes of milky, smoky tea. I smiled my thanks and sipped.
The babu turned to Gideon and began to talk rapidly in Maa and I waited for the translation. The babu was folded in his long brown-grey fur cloak. I had asked the last time and Gideon explained it was a hyrax cloak, the pelt taken from a quizzical-looking little rodent with round ears. They were rather sweet but with vicious, unforgiving teeth. Tusker told me she’d kept one as a pet until it had taken a nip at her ear and pierced it for her.
After a long exchange, the babu sat back and waited for Gideon to translate. He fanned himself gently with a fly whisk fashioned from a zebra tail, scattering the insects that had gathered. His little round eyes peered out from behind his thick spectacles. He watched me closely as Gideon spoke, as if to make sure every last word was passed along.
“Babu says that he has heard of the brave manner in which you dealt with Bwana Gates.”
“How did he hear that?”
Gideon grinned. “I told him. He says that Bwana Gates is an evil man, and such evil leaves a mark behind it. The mark of his evil still lingers here.”
The sun was high overhead, shedding long golden shafts of light. Perspiration from the walk beaded my temples, but I shivered. Granny Miette and Teenie and Angele had known evil and had worked to cast it out when it crept near. They always said that some evil can never be thwarted, no matter how hard you try or how far you run. It will find you if it wants to.
But I couldn’t imagine Gates was as evil as the babu believed or that he would do me any serious harm. He was a bully, and I had bullied him back.
“Please thank your babu for his concern, and tell him I will be careful.”
He repeated my words to the old man, but as soon as they were spoken, the babu shook his head firmly. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small leather bag. It was sewn with a complicated pattern of beads on copper wire, and it smelled of smoke and earth, of cooled sweat and aging flesh, like the old man himself.
He pressed the bag into my hands.
“What is it? Some sort of jewellery?” I turned it over in my palm and felt knobbly bits inside—a few pebbles, something that rustled like leaves, and another something that felt suspiciously long and hard in its slenderness. A bit of bone?
“It is a charm of protection, Bibi. My babu is very good friends with the most powerful laibon in our tribe,” he added with a measure of pride.
“Laibon? What is that? Some sort of witch doctor?”
“A laibon is a man with powerful magic. My babu asked and he has made this for you.”
I nodded toward his neck. “I see you have one, too.”
“As does Moses. My babu says this thing is necessary.”
I shrugged and tied the thing to my belt loop and tucked it into a pocket. “Is that good enough?”
The babu peered closely through his spectacles, giving a grudging nod. He wasn’t entirely pleased but he finally told Gideon it was good enough, and I was glad. I had no intention of wearing the smelly thing so close to my nose. It could live in my pocket and I only hoped Dora wouldn’t complain about the odour when it was time to do the laundry.
“I’ll keep it, but only to make the babu happy. Gates is a bully. Once you show them what you’re made of, they turn tail and run.” I bowed my