Two Moons by J. Raymond Ractliffe - Chapter 42

Two Moons is a new novel by J. Raymond Ractliffe that explores the inner spirit life of Africa, her people and their powerful faith in the world of the Unseen.

The Mark of the Two Moons
Chapter 42

     The tired dust lay where the winds had chased them. Small will'o wisps had danced with them across the open compound and around their mud walled huts. Had there been children in the now silent compound, they would have raced after them as they sped past, their shrieking laughter bouncing off the hilltop where the eyes in the long shadows had receded for the day.

Majura sat watching the rolling clouds as they came from over the horizon to play in the winds. Through her small doorway, she could see their endless changing as the hand of God came to caress their moving Spirits.

She had sat through the night whispering to the glowing flames as they had revealed their stories. Her old fingers tracing each story's outline before they faded into the night. What her nighttime fires had not fully revealed, the visions in her Milk Eye had been clear.

Her time here had come to an end.

The living waters in the stream were to touch the foreheads of those whose paths were to separate from her in the coming months. This would mark their Spirits as belonging to the Holy One in the Sky and keep them safe from any harm.

The old tree in the middle of the compound pointed a gnarled finger at her as she shuffled past the tall stones in the center. It was the only Spirit aware that the clouds had brought the new story of change. It alone had remained quiet, watching the swirling events unfolding around them all. No one had bothered to watch its long silence, thinking it had remained in the centre of their homes since before the coming of the Twins.

Majura's soft smile greeted the old tree, a simple nod as she continued her way across the dusty open path, all that she needed to waken its spirit from its dreams.

The quiet stream at the edge of the compound welcomed her silent hello, the sun glittering as her hand broke its rippling surface to reach deeper below for the water that had remained untouched by the swirling African dust and death around them.

Her mouth spoke the Words of Creation as the droplets of shimmering water ran from her hand to the simple gourd she had carried to the stream. Over and over, she reached in to grasp the stream's Innocence, letting the waters trickle off her hand into the gourd until there was enough to complete the Blessing of the Twins.

Majura's clear eye watched the gentle stream as it danced past her, aware its own birthplace had come from the sky.

She returned quietly back to the compound, where the withered tree had begun to stir, an eye buried in the rough bark under a limb, opened briefly to see her as she shuffled past, the first stirring of a Spirit that had brought Majura to this place.

Back in her hut, Majura sat comfortably by her warm fire, new herbs sprinkled on the hot stones adding a sweet aroma to the air that lifted her mind to join her Spirit while she DreamWalked the pathways in the Heavens.

The afternoon slipped away to first darkness as the stars began to bring out their mysteries in the sky. A first single starlight made its presence known, then the rest of the Ancestors found a way to light their own fires until a sky of lanterns filled the heavens.

When the last crimson colour on the horizon had slipped away, the Twins came silently through her doorway, kneeling in the cooling sands while they waited for their Mother to speak.

Now they watched her with their own curious eyes, to what task she would assign them next, or a Life Teaching to be shared from her Life Travels.

The minutes trickled by and the stars shifted their place past the limbs of the tree in the compound and still Majura sat silently staring at the fire. The Twins had come to expect these silences that could come as part of their teaching, drawing them all into one pathway before their mother's words would direct them to their task. Time shared by the firelight wove their heartbeats into a single tone, the words that were coming needed to be understood by all.

"Those who were meant to come to this place, have come," Majura said finally. "Now we have to move on away from this place."

"It is not needed to be here." she said.

The Twins were not surprised. They too had watched the rolling clouds that had come, speaking their wisdom of the coming changes. Majura turned to look directly at Gileni and Pathera, a smile forming on her lips as the words coming from her heart brought her joy.

"Both of you have been touched by the smile of a young man. Not in the eager way of silly young girls with heat in their bellies. The warriors blood has touched your own and made you one with a man."

The girls blushed deeply even in the darkness of the fire. Their eyes searching the air past their Mother in which to hide.

"One of you wishes to walk the path of this Healing. One of you will walk the long path of her husband's life."

All three shared their smiles as the flickering light danced off their lips. Eyes glistened while love overflowed for the first time, their young hearts bubbling like new springs.

"Gileni. The son of a chief has asked you to be his first wife."

"It seems his young spear remembered you after he woke from his fever."

Gileni blushed now with a glow that seemed to outshine the fire. She turned her head away from them all, trying to hide in the shadows. Majura chuckled, playing with the young girls shyness.

"He has left his village to follow his father's wishes."

"He will go to a place of learning far away and learn reading and the ways of the white man."

Majura paused now, seeing the joy replaced by fear on Gileni's face.

"You must go to him at the farm, he is waiting for you."

"He will not go alone." Majura said.

Majura turned now to Pathera, the quieter of the twins. Here the Spirits had found a deep well. Her heart had brought a greater strength to the herbs and salves she had learnt to prepare.

"You have chosen to walk behind me." Majura said with a smile.

"This path will also take you far away from here, over a lifetime."

Majura turned again to speak to them both, her face distant as the images of her coming journey filled her mind.

"I am returning to the mountains where I live, where there is a cave and waters that spring from the heart of the earth. I have lived there since I was touched by the Hand of Ngai and is the heart of my Visions. Much is to be revealed and only in the face of crystal waters can they be seen in the fullness of their days."

"I must go there alone." she whispered.

Majura turned to Pathera, "Chezwe will walk with you in this time and take you to this place. He will be your shield as you go to find my Spirit that waits for you."

"Tomorrow, your faces will not see each other after you go. It will be many years until your love will be seen in the other's eyes."

The impact of Majura's word had begun to seep past their new joys. What had been a single path since their birth, like a spring broken apart by a great stone, their one path had now become two rivers.

"I will walk with you tonight in your dreams, while you prepare for your new lives. Do not be afraid of the things to come, for I will be with you always."

"In the morning, you must gather your things and prepare your way."

Majura spoke softly now, her heart filling with the emotions of a mother.

"I am leaving you both beneath the stars of this night."

The smile now faded from Majura's face as her Milk Eye began to see past them all. The time for young girls and their dreams was past and the road before them stretched out in front of them in her visions.

Majura paused for a moment. The words now were her own and not from the Ancestors or Sacred fires that filled her Spirit.

"You have been my daughters and like the two faces of a stream showing the sky and earth, you both have entered my heart forever."

It had been a long time since her own children had returned to the earth, dust with dust, their breaths scattered to the winds. Only in the silences of her heart were their names whispered as their happy faces appeared out of the mists reminding her of their past coming.

"I will be with you both in all the days of your living."

Majura reached for the gourd that had sat patiently beside her, the bright fire warming the living waters that had come from the stream. Her old hand dipped gently into the gourd, then as the droplets clung to her fingers, she reached over and Blessed each Twin with the Innocent Water, marking the ancient sign of the Holy Mother God between their eyes.

"May the Holy One Watch over you, and Guide you."

"And Bless you All the Days of your Life."

"Let this Water be Her Blessing."

"And Mark His Hand on your Spirits."

Majura sat quietly watching their steady tears. Love begins to weep when rivers change their directions and those that were brought together for their time, smile their farewells as they continue their Life Paths to God.

Majura sat smiling at the Twins, her love for them filling the night air as the fire before them all flickered and danced their love songs.

When the lowest, bright stars had touched the highest limb of the withered tree in the compound, Majura reached over one last time to touch them gently on their foreheads. As she bent over, the carved polished ornaments in her hair began to sing her own Songs of Farewell.

"Come with me now." Majura said.

"It is time."

Majura walked through the doorway with the Twins trailing behind her, the moon lighting their way between the mud huts and old broken walls. Those above in the hilltops woke to watch her leaving, no word spoken between them, while somewhere out in the distant, a lion's call bid her his farewell.

She walked to the withered tree that had stood silent watching over them all, and turning to face the Twins, she paused once more to see them both.

The moonlight caught her Milk Eye in the darkness as her soft tears fell to the earth.

She raised her palm in final farewell, then touched the tree with a smile.

The gnarled limbs that had marked the passing of the stars in the heavens above them, dissolved in the night air like smoke rising from a fire. Where the trunk had stood in the centre of the burned stones, only its shadow from the white moon remained.

In its place, a tall walking staff stood waiting to begin their journey, poised as the day Majura had come and planted it in the middle of the compound. In the long years they had travelled together, while gripping it, Majura's old hands had polished it to a dark luster that shone in the moonlight. On top of the walking staff, a large crystal watched as Majura took it firmly in her hand, releasing it from the ground.

Majura turned without looking back at the twins and began her journey back to her cave in the mountains.

In a few shuffled steps, the moonlight shadow cast behind Majura faded as she slowly disappeared into the darkness. When their eyes could no longer see Majura while her hair whispered her Song of Tears, her small footsteps could be clearly heard as she slowly walked away from their old compound.

When all that was left was the silence in their hearts, their eyes found a single brown feather in the dust where Majura's last footsteps had faded in the dark night.

Above them, a lone falcon dipped its wing, riding the swirling night air through the twinkling stars, to find the distant mountains that was home to a well of Crystal Waters and a River of Dreams.

Only Ngai could see the single tear that fell from the glittering sky, marking Majura's silent way home.

Then she too was gone.

Two Moons by J. Raymond Ractliffe - Chapter 41

Two Moons is a new novel by J. Raymond Ractliffe that explores the inner spirit life of Africa, her people and their powerful faith in the world of the Unseen.

The Mark of the Two Moons
Chapter 41

     The Land Rover sat waiting to be called in the garage. Manti had filled all the Jerry cans and water bottles. The medicine chest had been loaded and all the extra provisions Claire had asked for, had been carefully packed. Soft pillows and blankets lay waiting in the back seat, Jeremy's long trek to the specialists in Nairobi was going to be a long one. The long back road to the national main road was going to take a while and every effort was going to be made to spare him the usual jostle and lumpy ride that was the norm.

Instructions could be heard coming from the rear of the house, Mavis's directions to those connected to the household, had everyone running in all directions.

Since Mathew's and Jeremy's return, it was neither the doctor's detailed orders nor Claire's loving ministrations that ruled the wooden corridors of the Blue Barn Estate. A stern finger wagging in the air and loud clucking admonishing anyone failing to meet her tight standards could be heard from the rear of the house as Mavis directed the household with an iron fist none would dare challenge.

One poor soul had not seen the tall tins that had remained carefully stacked outside the back door. Their sudden crashing to the ground brought Mavis through the screened door with a speed few would have guessed she possessed. He was beaten off the estate grounds with a long broom handle, terrible curses raining down on him from the heavens as he ran past the white washed walls of the farm gate. It would take several trips to the local witchdoctor to clear his soul of the curses she had unleashed on him, his ancestors and clan.

A great tear would roll down Mavis's round check as her emotions swelled up and overflowed her heart as she thought of her poor Jeremy and young Matthew out there all alone in the open bush, terrible beasts trying to bite and kill them as they tried to make their way home.

Her gentle, anguished sobs heard even from the rear of the house, were muffled with a large dishcloth, they in turn would spur a flurry of pots and pans, cooking and boiling on the kitchen stove.

No meal too delicate, was not prepared, although only a few survived past their tasting and making it as far as Jeremy's bed tray. Traditional meals that literally overflowed large round metal plates were delivered out the backdoor to Etona, in the certain belief that eating well would reduce his quiet grieving.

Mavis did not leave the rear kitchen when the call of the fading sun ended their day. Several pillows and wide blankets made up a rudimentary bed, her large frame sitting up in the corner as her nighttime snores filled the farmhouse with her song. No one had the courage to ask her to leave the house during this self-imposed sentry duty to her family.

Unannounced visitors were banished immediately from the house. Fresh flowers left behind were brought to the bedroom with a scowl. Phone calls whispering their concerns were collected like wild berries and hidden in her ample breast for fear they would bring distress to the convalescing.

Steaming teas still arrived without warning at Claire's elbow in the middle of the night. How such a large woman like Mavis could move around the house so quietly, up and down polished hardwood corridors, would be the subject of idle conversations for years to come.

Etona had finally wondered in from the outlaying , returning with a slow shuffle to the garage where Manti sat waiting to hear that the Land Rover was to be started, beginning their journey to Nairobi.

Several workers from the house had gone out searching him, but had returned unable to find him. Their departure time had loomed, Claire was afraid that they would have to postpone their leaving as Jeremy was adamant that he see the young man before they leave.

"They are looking for you." Manti said.

"Please go to the house, they are waiting."

Etona turned with the same speed as he had come and made his way over to the main house. Anxious eyes caught him as he made his way through the tall trees and their shadows. Their hearts still acknowledged his silent grieving, his long absences made it clear he was out in the bush, finding his solace alone.

Anxious as they were, they did not call out to him to hurry his coming, but watched with compassion as he finally came to the veranda where they had all been waiting.

Jeremy sat in a large comfortable armchair, his shoulder dressing visible under an open shirt, his leg propped up on a cushioned stool while the IV drip hung from a makeshift hook on the wall. Claire stood by the white veranda wall, her hair gently waving to the trees as the cool breeze blew over the farm from the eastern rolling hills.

Mavis watched from the corner of the veranda, her voice to be added to the circle when Etona or Jeremy spoke.

Their voices fell silent as tired eyes approached them all.

"I am here now.' he simply said.

"He says he is here." Mavis said.

Claire turned to Etona and said, "Etona, Jeremy wanted to say a few words before we go. I am just glad you made it back in time before we left."

She paused now, and waited for Jeremy. He had not told her why he wanted to speak to him, only that it was important, so much so, he was willing to cancel the trip and reschedule the specialist appointment.

Jeremy had sat quietly on the veranda since they had brought him out from his bedroom. Claire had thought the brilliant sunshine would bring a final smile, but it had not come.

Two nights ago, Etona had solemnly stood at the foot of Jeremy's bedside while Jeremy had painfully recreated what had happened to them all. From the great rhino tearing through the bush, Mathew's escape from death and their mad dash through the bush to the Old Woman; the hyena that had stalked him for miles and finally wounding him, until he had fallen out of a tree that he had crawled up to escape, falling below to the started feet of a lion that had by then, killed the waiting hyena.

Somehow his father and the others had managed to find his wounded trail but not soon enough to stop the events that exploded around them. His father's death had wounded them all, none so much as his friend, Jeremy.

Etona had stood and listened quietly until the story had ended. Eyes had filled and glistened in the lamp light, but no tear fell while lips quivered in grief.

He had simply nodded after the words had faded in the air, then he turned without a sound and disappeared back in the night.

"I have a last request from your father Etona. It was important that I tell you this." Jeremy said.

Etona stood quietly, his eyes looking straight at Jeremy.

"He gave me instructions, no, I am sorry, I am not saying it right, he asked me to look after you after he was gone."

Jeremy paused now, the memory of his last visit with Konjaru in his dream stirring the emotions of his loss once more, tightening his throat until it made his voice gently quiver.

"Your father wanted me to look after you, like you were my own son."

Claire's turned to look at her husband's eyes, but they were filled with emotion and memory as he stared deeply into the heart of his friend's son.

Jeremy waited until Mavis had completed her translation, watching for Etona's unblinking eyes for his reaction, but there was none.

"In a few days Matthew is going to be returning back to Cape Town. His family is there and his school is to start in a week or so."

"I am going to send you to a school like Matthew."

A part of Claire's heart smiled with relief.

Jeremy had found some way of repaying the Life Gift Konjaru had given them all. She turned to smile at Jeremy, giving her support but his eyes remained fixed on Etona.

"He has many years of schooling and is ahead of you, so you will have to have a tutor to catch up your studies, before you can begin."

"Then you will go to a school, just like him.'

Etona stood silent as Mavis's words faded. The minutes ticked by as the silence between them grew.

Just as Claire was to finally speak and brake the sudden uneasiness spreading between them, Etona looked away from Jeremy and spoke directly to Mavis."

"This school they speak of, it is the same where he goes?" he asked pointing openly to Matthew who had been sitting beside his uncle.

Jeremy paused for a moment. He had hoped this question would not come. The full force of Africa's colonial system was represented in his next answer, and there could be no other but the truth.

"No, it is not the same." he said quietly.

"Why can I not go to this school? Is it far?" Etona asked, his eyes now staring straight at Jeremy.

"No, its not far." Jeremy said.

"They won't allow you there," he said finally in a hushed voice.

"I have to send you to England, where my own son is at the moment."

"There are schools there, that take students from all over the old empire."

Etona stood watching them all, his eyes now stopping at one, and then drifting over to another, looking into each face as their own words lingered in the air for all to see.

"Why won't they allow me to go to this school?" he asked simply, daring their final answer he already knew.

Jeremy felt the full shame of a system he had tried to fight all his years in Kenya, fall on his shoulders. There was nowhere to hide from the stupidity of his former world.

"They won't allow you there because you are African."

"They only take white boys at his school."

"I'm sorry Etona, there is nothing I can do about it."

Claire jumped in, hoping to add some joy to a gift that had suddenly deteriorated into hopeless embarrassment."

"It's a very good school, one of England's finest. In a way, its even more prestigious that Mathew's school." she said, trying to appeal to his vanity, hoping it would overcome the sting of his first clash with white man's racism.

Etona stood still, his mind playing with the words that they had brought him. The arrow that had pierced his side would fester in the years to come.

His eyes became dark, smoldering as his gaze finally fell on Jeremy.

"I am the son and grandson of a chief, but I cannot go to his school."

"This I cannot do, because of this?" he said pinching his arm's skin.

"It is too dark, not like the white man."

Etona now stood silently, softly touching a small carved kudu horn that hung around his neck as the wind came to blow past the blue gum's leaves that hung over them all in shame.

"My father died under a lion for you, but I cannot go to this school."

Jeremy looked away for the first time, his heart heavy with the last task from the man who had saved his life.

"No, I am sorry." he finally said.

Etona stood staring at Jeremy for a while, understanding the words that were now shaping his life. He turned to stare at Matthew who had remained seated beside his uncle, his own embarrassment visible on his flushed cheeks.

"Then I will go to this other school like your son, until I have the same reading as him."

"Then he and I will go to the same school, or not go at all."

The Challenge now lay open between them.

For the first time, Mathew's voice was added to their circle. He stood up from his chair and walked over to his Claire's side by the veranda wall.

"You're right." he said smiling right back at Etona.

"When you have caught up, you can go to my school."

"I'm sure you will be able to catch up quickly in a few years. If you do really well, we might make it to the same high school."

"Besides, by then the rules might have changed, so who knows." Matthew said finally with a lop sided shrug. He looked around with his wide boyish smile to his Aunt Claire, to see if she had caught the thread of his thoughts.

Her own eyes twinkled with a smile as she silently thanked him, perhaps there was a way out of this after all.

She turned now to Etona, hoping the slight sarcasm was missed and only his words of simple promise were heard.

But Mathew's words had found their mark.

Nothing of their original intent had been missed.

Too many hours challenging each other's stare in the dusty compound had left them both masters in reading each other's silent words.

For the first time, the silent hatred of the Sun and the Moon flared openly between the two young men as easily as the heavens raged between the two great lights that lived in the African sky.

In the years to come it would burn between them with a force that would shatter many dreams, tear at their ambitions and redirect their destinies.

They would not know, the deep currents that had led them to this place and time, had been directed by the silent twinkling eyes that lived in the shadows of trees and in the darkness that lived between the stars.

White bones cast by the Spirits of Africa, the "Angry Children of the Moon,” would be rearranged and molded to suit their bored pleasures.

Like the Sun and the Moon that raged in the Heavens, only one could rule the heavens, only one could rule the land.