A short story.

Absolutely terrific... treachery and 
betrayal in the air. A series of surprises.

THE NEIGHBOUR'S BOY

Ndugwa Ndugwa

If you stood on top of Vai, an escarpment in Nsombe, you could see Pabayi river and beyond. Vai stood in isolation from hillocks. Pabayi river wound through the hillocks and ledges like a trail of distant smoke. The rush and roar of Pabayi river would  start  to fade as it  meandered into the plains of  Antebeyi and Wayiyi. And if it was in the evening, the sky above would glint with balls of orange-purple clouds. The horizon on the East of Pabayi would glimmer with hazy Antebeyi city lights. When the glimmer died, the horizon would look like a black hole. 

An evening breeze would rise with gentleness and touch your tired skin like a young lover. The smell of decaying grass on the river banks would hit you like chaff, and waver on. To the West, stood Mapaye forest, a dark forest. Beyond Mapaye forest, on its fringes, Patemayi village stretched, winding and blending into Afaneye the land of the evil one.

Patemayi was a dry plateau with Shrubs which dotted here and there. Although not dry like Ayiwayi or Magiyi and not as dry as the Adakeyi, but dry. The smell of that dry earth sent your face puckering, and  laughed at you the moment you stared at it. A score of paths cut through the shrubs waving in disarray into saisal farms that stretched and thinned into the  distance. 

Nsombe now lay behind. Nsabire fastened his black jacket around his waist and drove his cattle towards Patemayi. His Machete and club in his hand. He had to be home before his wife and before darkness swamped  Mapaye forest. A man lost his life two weeks ago in Mapaye. The police said it was an isolated incident. He didn't understand the term  and it didn't ease  his fear for Mapaye. The giant trees that stood in silence sent him quivering. And when the twigs rustled, they sounded like someone was stalking him. He would panic and murmur to the whisper of wind kissing the giant trees. 

As the sun sank to Afaneye the land of the evil one, Nsabire  reached  Patemayi. Dusk had started to mingle with the dry shrubs. One or two  birds flapped up to the tree branches. He strode, his heart pounding. 

 He thought. He feared his wife, a reprobate and wretched woman. She tried to choke him with a kerosene  lamp in his sleep.

 Two or three cows ran towards the shrubs on his left. "Shh, shh." He hissed and whistled to the stray cows. The cows ran further. He left the other cows and chased the stray cows. He was reaching the thinned homes along the  hem of the village. "Shh," the sound reverberated. Sweat rolling down his face, he threw his Machete in the direction of the cows. Silence broke into moans and groans. Then changed into crushed wheezes. Nsabire's body stiffened. He fought not to tremble, so he slowed down on his pace. His face was painted in fear. Blinking, he reached the spot. 

A musty smell hit him. Nsabire's  heart skipped. His eyes  bulged out of their sockets. And his mouth dropped. His Machete had driven through a young boy of about eleven years. Dusk glared as panic gripped him. He heard tree branches creak—a few yards from him. Then he heard muffled footsteps. He crouched and held his breath. His eyes fixed on the shrubs where footsteps came from. Hazy light flicked peering through the shrubs breaking the darkness.

"He couldn't have gone far..." A voice said.

"Yes, goats  are up the path, the boy should  be  behind." Said the second voice.

"He never wanted to come in the first place!"

"Do you think he used a different path leaving the goats behind?"

"I don't think so. If he did, his mother would surely kill him."

 The flickering of light stopped.  The voices fade out, only Nsabire's ragged breath. 

                           #

The time was between the first and the second cockcrow. The cattle were in the kraal, and the moon was shining casting its ghostly glow on the house. The penumbra shadows spread out in shimming  pools across the parched earth. Nsabire stood  lurking in the shadows staring at the main house contemplating what to do. He sighed with despair and felt sapped to the core. He could  make out voices in the house. And saw the light moving and floating in the rooms. He put his hand on his mouth, debating within himself on whether to meet his wastrel wife or disappear to Afaneye. Nsabire was covered in dust, head to toe; from the grave he dug with his Machete. He looked much like a madman.

 Nsabire was a tall, evenly built  man of about fifty  years. Dark, his lips round and thick. His eyes were naturally calm. He was still looking good at fifty. He worked from sunrise to sunset. Although he had been all over the map recently. Not so much like a teenage boy but all the same. He had lost his job as a site foreman for giving his boss' wife a pregnancy. The worst thing was that his boss, the engineer, was his neighbour. And although the engineer's wife lost that pregnancy through miscsrriage, things went out of hand, of course not for lack of experience but rather being all over the map. His wife Adayi, a small business owner, almost chased him out of their  home. 

Nsabire was Afaneye by tribe. And Adayi like their neighbours, Antebe. Antebe people were known for their unforgiving hearts. But strikingly beautiful. And warm from the outside. Tall and brown. Thin and athletic. Endowed with kind eyes. This reflected well with Adayi. She was a true Antebe. With the five children they'd, she still thought ill of him from the work incident. Something that happened two years ago. 

He married Adayi from Antebeyi city. Everyone including foreigners here knew that Antebeyi city belonged to the Antebe people, the majority. She never forgot to remind him of his homeland and somewhat dangerous Afaneye—the land of the evil one. How could  she when her first born was rumoured to have died from the same evil spirits hovering Afaneye?

"We're not going to spend a sleepless night"-- Adayi said, standing in the doorway, her hands akimbo. "Because again you neglected a simple job." Her tone was aggressive and  deliberately  pitched.

, he thought, quivering  from the biting night. Every now and then, he stole a glance in the direction of the neighbours. He feared bumping into his former boss, now his nemesis. Adayi was a know-all good-for-nothing. He cursed. Why was all this happening to him alone? 

"This is becoming a trend," Adayi's voice startled him. She turned  to go. "You're lucky Nkatu milked the cows. If you want to sleep out, well it's your choice." 

Adayi entered the house shaking her head in a way that showed discontentment. She  wasn't expecting any reaction. She wasn't sure if Nsabire was there in the still night. It was her intuition, wife—mother like.

"This man will never grow up…" she said sitting on a sofa facing Nkatu who was dozing.

Nkatu like Adayi was Antebe but originally from Nsombe. Short and dark. Serious, all business like. No one knew his age for sure but rumours circulated rounds that he was about fifty years old. Something he would deny. For he loved to be addressed as a young fellow. One thing people didn't know about him was harbouring grudges. A good pretender. 

Nkatu could be trusted on serious issues excluding money. On the latter, his friendship with Nsabire had almost broken up. Nsabire gave Nkatu four cows to auction in Antebeyi. To which, Nkatu did but never brought the money to Nsabire. Nkatu lost track of Patemayi until Nsabire called on him. After then, they talked on other serious issues but never again on money. It was a misguided feeling of long term friendship that still kept the two together.

Nsabire crept from the shadows and entered the house. Panic gripped everyone in the house. They jumped. Nsabire looked like a dusty town on a dry day. Adayi moved forward towards him and grabbed him. Nkatu squinted his eyes as if the light streaming inside the sitting room was vague. Then he moved and disentangled them. 

"Oh, no, ooh,  my God not again," Adayi howled. "Which one now? Not that woman again?"

"What's wrong? What happened?" Nkatu stammered. 

"Nothing happened. It's his usual mannerism. Not mannerism...! Wome-"  she slapped him. Nsabire staggered. 

"Ah! Adayi, Adayi calm down. Let him explain." Nkatu demanded, irritated.

Nsabire's gaze was fastened on the door. He was indignant. This wasn't a women related affair. This was something beyond human pleasure. His heart ached.

"It's nothing to do with human pleasure." His face was a combination of fear, pain and despair. Adayi stared at him. The way he had spoken was very apt. Adayi had never seen him speak like that before. She moved a  step backwards.

"The neighbour's boy." He stammered and stared at the door again. "I killed him." He looked like he would collapse anytime. He quivered.

Adayi sat down on the floor,  "the neighbour's wife?" She said, her breath came in gasps.

Nkatu turned in his seat. He felt blood pressing his veins. He always felt that way. Now he  felt a dark invisible force falling down on him like fine pebbles of dust. A little sweat formed on his hands. He remembered how he found the cows. He  glared at Nsabire.

"The neighbour's boy," Nkatu corrected her. "The Engineer's boy!" 

Nsabire nodded. Rubbing his hands against his  trousers.

"Wife and son?" Adayi cried. It wasn't sympathy she felt. It was something else undefinable. Rage maybe. Her breath was still uneven. 

"Why, Nsabire, why? How did you...?" Nkatu asked, licking his lips. He was feeling a different kind of sensation. But he was sure it wasn't fear. He stood up as if he had remembered something of great importance.

"It was an accident. So abrupt. It was the cows--"

"Where is the body?" Nkatu asked, his tone subdued. "Where is he?" He leaned forward with a gesture of urgency. 

"I buried him in Nsombe," Nsabire said. "I wanted to throw him into Pabayi river but-"

"But what? You thought about your wife—his mother?" Adayi shouted, resting her hands on her head. She turned suddenly as if something had  hit her. "When will all this stop. Nsabire?"

Nsabire sat down and put his head between his legs. He was quivering. He wasn't thinking straight. His head was a junkyard.

"Don't talk like that!" Nkatu said, looking at Adayi. "This is no time for wrangles." He turned and looked at Nsabire,

"You need to bring the body here and bury it in the kraal. If a thorough search is conducted chances are they will find the body where you buried it." He swallowed. "Nsombe is bad. It was a bad idea." He Slummed down on the sofa and stared in the blank space.

Nsabire murmured. Stood up rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He made for the door.

"To bring the body," Nsabire said. "Before Dawn."