My Friend Matt and Hena The Whore Read online

  ‘How did we get here?’ says Matt to me to Kofi and to no one, ‘and what’s this bag doing round my arm?’ He don’t even wonder if his arm is dead. Smart-ass.

  ‘Kofi says,’ I say pointing to Kofi, ‘that he found us sleeping in his tent yesterday afternoon after he came back from the second show. The circus show.’

  I’m enjoying this. It’s not often that I get the chance to explain things to Matt. It don’t matter that I don’t understand it at all myself.

  ‘Kofi is the circus small man,’ I add, not wishing to say midget on account of it might hurt him even though that’s what he calls himself.

  Matt opens his mouth to say some more as he looks in the bag but is so amazed, like me, at what he finds that, like me, he can’t say nothing. At least something shuts him up.

  Caught in the bottom of the bag is what looks like a dirty rag. It is the second half of the shawl we didn’t get to use the other night. So that was real.

  I had nearly forgotten about it. Well, not truly forgotten, but remembered more like a dream than a true fact. A nightmare I reckon is the proper word for what I thought it was.

  And where are Hena and Golam! I can’t believe I’m so worried about Hena.

  But I am.

  And of course Golam, which is only right.

  I look at Matt. His eyes are like glass pebbles. There is a look in them the like of which I saw in a half-cut lizard last summer which was being attacked by buzzards in the school ground.

  I think he is seeing last night all over again.

  I also think he is trying to make up his mind about something.

  When Kofi brings him his food he eats slowly, forgetting to chew every so often and staring in front of him, mouth half open full with food.

  ‘What’s the problem, young man?’ says Kofi looking at Matt. ‘If you are worried about your homes and families, just tell me and I’ll see that you get to them safely. And comfortably.’ He smiles a dancing smile. ‘That’s the least we can do after what you’ve…’ He suddenly stops talking, his smile suddenly stops dancing.

  Matt jerks his head up, his sharp look returns and he waits for Kofi to finish his sentence.

  ‘…after what you’ve… you must have been through,’ Kofi manages to say.

  ‘How do you know what we have been through?’ says Matt, his voice going a little hard and a little ‘posh’ as it always does when he is on his guard and careful, not fully trusting who he is talking to.

  ‘I… I don’t. It’s just that you were alone and looked tired out – you’ve slept nearly fifteen hours – so I naturally thought you must have… might have had some difficulties.’

  Matt don’t argue.

  Matt can argue for seven days and seven nights when he wants. But he don’t argue sometimes when I think he ought to.

  ‘Have you seen our other friends?’ Matt at last asks what I know he has been thinking all along. ‘A boy and a girl.’

  For once Kofi looks truly surprised. ‘You mean there were two more with you!’

  He looks more than surprised. He looks frightened.

  ‘Yes. We lost them… We forgot about… We couldn’t help what… We lost them,’ I end helplessly with what I began. I wish I hadn’t started and let Matt carry on. But I am so worried about Hena and Golam I can’t help myself. ‘Please help us find them.’

  ‘Just tell me where you last left them,’ Kofi goes in quick short gasps, moving his podgy little hands all round my face in quick short movements, ‘and I’ll see that somebody goes over there as soon as possible.’

  He looks at me.

  I look at Matt.

  Matt gives me the look and is about to say something when two more little people enter the little open tent. One is a man and one a lady. They are a little taller than Kofi, about my height. But I’m nine so it isn’t too tall for grown-ups.

  ‘It is time for our act, Kofi,’ the two new midgets say together, in one voice which sounds sharp and crackly.

  Kofi lingers a bit then says, ‘You go out and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back in a short while – won’t be long, promise. We’ll sort out about your friends when I’m back. Promise.’

  ‘Don’t worry.

  ‘Oh, and leave your bags with me. No point in carting them around. Must be heavy. You can take some money from them of course. You might need it.’

  Of course we’ll need it, I say to myself. All ours is with Hena. Not that it was much, but she always takes charge of the money.

  ‘These bags are not ours,’ Matt goes.

  ‘Oh yes they are. Believe me, they are. I don’t lie. That’s one thing I don’t do. I may not tell the truth,’ he smiles his dancing smile, ‘but I do not lie.’

  ‘Where is the Spirit Dance?’ asks Matt.

  ‘They danced all last night,’ Kofi replies, then he sees Matt’s very disappointed face and adds, ‘but they will dance again tonight. We’ll take you there ourselves. I’ll even introduce you to some of the dancers. They are my friends.’

  ‘Come on, hurry up. We’re getting late,’ say the two new midgets – again together, in one voice.

  Kofi hurries out taking the bags with him and making us take some money before going.

  Before I go enjoy the fair I must enjoy a quiet sit down behind the bushes. Matt feels the same. We haven’t been for four and twenty hours and all this food we’ve had is pushing matters down something awful hard.

  We get out of the tent, put our hands in front of our eyes and peeping from between fingers make our way through the fair. The reason we cover our eyes is that we don’t want to see any of the fair till we are really seeing it so as not kill the surprise of seeing it. Of course we’ve seen bits of it from the tent but that’s not the same thing as walking through it with naked eyes.

  Also we want no one to see us, yet; and Matt says if you don’t take notice of others they don’t take notice of you.

  We are dying to go and therefore want to be out of the crowds soon, but we don’t want to be out of the crowds soon for we want the fair ground to be truly large so there is more to see when we do see it with our eyes open.

  We are out of it but still not out as we are in the cattle and sheep market.

  We have our hands off our eyes now.

  I hope we don’t end up in the town next, which we would if we are going in the wrong direction. But Matt says no, cattle markets are always on the other side of the town.

  We’re soon out of the market and into the open plains with plenty of bushes, even trees.

  We both run like the Spirit of Shit is behind us, which in a way she is. We both get behind the third set of bushes we come to. The first of everything is for greedy guts; the second is for fallow fools; the third and fourth are too far away, so we settle for the third as good people should.

  We settle down in not many winks. Matt first, for he has floppy shorts on which are round his ankles in no time. I take longer with my trousers. By the time I’m ready Matt is flying pheasants all over the place. With a true sigh of happiness I sit and hear this sharp voice say, ‘You took your time, didn’t you.’

  Spirit of Shit.

  I nearly jump up the bush.

  It is Hena.

  What is the world coming to if a man can’t even shit in peace without having a woman poke her nose into his private business.

  Luckily Golam takes her to one side and makes her wait.

  On our way back to the fair Golam tells us how they were sleeping peacefully when they hear the world coming to its end and see the fires of Hell overtaking it. Just then three naked men in big boots go running past them followed by a naked lady in big boots, followed closely by another naked man.

  Hena and Golam climb up the tree and hide till all is quiet.

  When they come down and don’t see us, Golam wants to turn round and go back home but Hana says if we – meaning Matt and me – are not dead or taken away we’d go to Gonta. She insists on going forward.

  Luckily they meet a party of peop
le walking to Gonta for the Spirit Dance. Hena and Golam walk along with them.

  They have a search for us at the fair and then come and wait here, for it is easier to spot us on the way to the fair than at the fair in the crowds, Hena thinks.

  Golam asks Matt what happened with us but Matt don’t want to talk, which is surprising for Matt likes talking about things that happen.

  I am not sure I like talking about it either but I do, though I’m not sure I ought to. Not in front of Hena for I don’t think it is nice, and even though Hena is a witch she’s still nice.

  I tell them. I tell them what I understand or remember or know. I know nothing of what happened after my eyes and ears were killed – though they weren’t really. As you know by now.

  Matt says he don’t know much after that either, except being carried on the shoulder by the poor man while he carried me in his arms.

  We’ve been in the fairground hardly long enough for the shadows to change any when Kofi and his friends catch up with us.

  ‘You needn’t trouble about our friends,’ goes Matt to Kofi, ‘we’ve found them.’

  Kofi looks very happy to hear it. Like a great fear has gone from his eyes.

  ‘And what are the names of your charming friends?’ go the midget and the lady midget, together again. I am beginning to find their speaking the same words at the same time in the same voice a little scary.

  ‘This is Hena,’ says Matt, ‘she is probably a witch. She can always find us. She found us today as well.’

  Golam smiles when he hears this and the midget couple take their round little hands up to their round little cheeks and sigh and say together, ‘What a lovely smile this boy has, like a star from Dallas. He should be on television.’

  We don’t know what they’re talking about but Kofi later tells us they have travelled to rich countries in the West and have seen many wonderful things, like Dallas, which people in poor countries know nothing of.

  We all want to see Dallas after that but doubt if we ever will.

  Anyway Matt tells them Golam’s name and they smile at him and kiss him on both cheeks. I’m not quite sure whether I’d like them to kiss me on both my cheeks, but that’s not a nice thought to think so I try not to think it but still do.

  ‘And this,’ says Matt, pointing to me, ‘is Kimo. He’s our best friend.’

  ‘He’s big, isn’t he!’ they go, together again, feeling my arms and standing shoulder to shoulder with me and measuring my height against theirs.

  ‘You still haven’t told us your name now, have you?’ they go to Matt. ‘But we haven’t told you ours either. That is naughty of us, don’t you think?’

  They ask these questions but don’t wait for an answer. I wonder more and more at them talking the same words at the same time in the same voice.

  ‘Well,’ they carry on, and I say to myself now they’ll have to say a few words separate to give their separate names, but they go together, ‘we’re Jon and Donna.’ As they speak they point to each other to make clear which one is Jon and which Donna. I’m glad they do so otherwise I’d not have known. I’ve never heard these names and couldn’t’ve said which is a girl’s name and which a boy’s. As it happens the man midget is Donna and the lady midget Jon.

  ‘Now’s your turn.’ They look at Matt all excited like it’s a big game.

  ‘My name is Jomo,’ says Matt.

  You may well wonder why Matt says his name is Jomo.

  But to tell the truth, he tells the truth.

  Matt’s real name isn’t Matt at all. Well it is now, short for Matthew. But he was born Jomo and was called Jomo till this missionary bloke from Pasadena, California, USA (wherever that may be) and his miserable wife brought Jesus home to us darkies, and saved his soul. And other souls. Not all mind you, for some souls are just not good enough, but quite a few. Not mine, I’m sorry to say, though I truly did so want to have my soul saved, honest. But Grandma Toughtits would have none of it and shut the door on his smiling face.

  It makes me sad for Matt says, the missionary bloke says, she’ll never know Heaven now, whatever that may be. He says, the missionary bloke says, her soul will be lost for ever in Eternal Darkness, wherever that may be. Might even be Pasadena, California, USA from the way the missionary bloke speaks of carnal sin and mortal evil, whatever that may be, which is rife there, whatever that may mean.

  Matt says the missionary bloke first taught him how to be a Christian, and then how not to be a Christian. I never understood none of it. But all this is later and you’ll soon find out when it happens.

  Anyway, now that we are all properly met we have a great time at the fair. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much before or after.

  I truly begin to like my new friends though they are not very pretty to look at and talk funny and work in a circus.

  But when they’re not talking to us, John, Donna and Kofi don’t look much happy. From where I stand they’ve got the hump over something so that even good things seem to worry them.

  Like the price of cows and sheep and goats and camels. It appears they are going real cheap this year. I think they ought to be happy over it. Mam is always pleased when things are cheap. But Jon, Donna and Kofi worry over it.

  There is also something more to their worry. I can tell for I can tell. I’ve seen a lot of worry in grown-up people to know.

  I reckon little grown-up people are no different from big grown-up people.

  Five

  The Spirit Dance

  Grandma Toughtits says there are two sorts of people.

  Those who believe that when the Spirits dance the world dances with them; and those who believe when the world dances the Spirits dance with it.

  I myself don’t see no difference but Grandma Toughtits says there is all the difference.

  She says always be the first to dance.

  She also says never stop dancing, though I can’t see how that’s possible.

  Anyhow, I jump up, tall silent and strong like a boy tree would if it could, and start to dance.

  The flames are all swaying and flickering on top of tall black poles held by little boys and girls in black robes. In the dark of the night you can hardly see the black poles or the children in black which makes it look like the flames are dancing on their own in the black air.

  The white and yellow and red robes of most dancers also take the eye. They jump and whirl and jerk and sway like the flames themselves. They pretend to be the Spirit of Light and dance in the hope that the real Spirit of Light will join them.

  There are other people dancing as other Spirits: the Spirit of Crops, the Spirit of the Rain, the Spirit of Mountains, the Spirit of the Earth and many other Spirits, including the Spirits of different animals.

  Golam gets up and joins the dance though he knows his Mam won’t like it. He won’t normally do what his Mam don’t like but I think he is not thinking.

  I am wearing my beautiful new robe and I wish Golam had one as well. I think of giving him one of my new shawls so he can also look smart but forget in the mood of the dance.

  Matt stays sitting. The flames of the night dance in his eyes and I can see his Spirit dancing outside in the eyes of the fire. Jon, Donna and Kofi are soon dancing as well.

  New dancers join in wearing masks over their faces. Long ribbons of all colours are flying all round their bodies covering their robes.

  This gives the real Spirits a chance to join in the dance without being found out; for no one can now tell the difference between the people dancers and the Spirit dancers. The colours and masks of the Spirits will get lost in the colours and masks of the people. The Spirits don’t like to be found out. If someone unmasks or uncovers any of the dancers in order to truly see a Spirit he is forever cursed. There is the sound of a slow drum beat in the air. One beat at a time, soft and muffled with long uneven gaps in between.

  There are many pipe players all around the dancers at different places. They play the same notes but at different times so the mu
sic shifts from place to place making the whole scene appear to go further away, then come near again and then move away again – all the time. The moving light of the flames adds to this trick of change. You not only see dancing within the dancing space but feel the dancing space itself dance from place to place.

  There is a soft buzz buzzing noise far away in the skies, like millions of butterflies dancing in the night air. Matt notices it first for he is sitting down while I am lost in dance. I notice because he notices. I chance to look at him and see his eyes are not on the flames or the dance but on the dark and on nothing; above our heads.

  Slowly, as the buzzing gets louder, others begin to look up.

  ‘The Spirits…’ one voice cries above the bells of the dancers.

  ‘The Spirits…’ goes a hushed whisper beyond the footfalls of the dancers.

  ‘The Spirits… the Spirits…’

  ‘The Spirits are coming…’

  ‘The Spirits are here…’

  ‘The Spirits are flying down to our dance…’

  ‘The Spirits… The Spirits… The Spirits…’ sing many voices to the music of the pipes.

  Excited hearts beat louder and faster than drums.

  This is what everybody hopes will happen one day. This is what everybody knows happened in the old days. In the old days, when men were good and lived and worked with the Spirits and not against them, as nowadays. Then the Spirits came flying down from the Heavens to sing and dance with people.

  When it happens again the world will again be a place of happiness for all and for all times.

  Everybody always says this, not many believe. Not because they don’t have no faith in Spirits, but because they don’t have no faith in men.

  But it is happening. It is happening at last.

  The Spirits are now almost upon us.

  Kofi screams his ugly midget scream and runs. Runs then stops, grabs my hand and drags me down to the ground.

  My face hits the earth for the second time in two days. I don’t know what’s going on. I think I hear Matt’s voice but I’m not sure. I think I hear Hena’s voice but I’m not sure. I think I hear Golam’s voice and I’m sure. You don’t often hear Golam’s voice but when you hear it you hear it. It’s like his smile. You can’t miss it.