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Authors: Kyle Onstott

Drum (7 page)

BOOK: Drum
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His stomach full, his body clean and oiled, his arms and legs unrestrained, Tamboura lay down on the hard planks contented and happy. His village and all that it contained had receded far into the background and the first poignant nostalgia had been dissipated. He slept soundly and dream-lessly until, in the pre-dawn chill, he awoke to find himself shivering and crept closer to M'dong who, without waking, pulled Tamboura close to him and with some mumbled words enveloped him in his arms. Secure in his friend's warmth and protection, Tamboura slept again until the bright sun made him open his eyes.

The whole compound was stirring and the sleepy slaves sat up one by one and hung their legs over the edges of the shelves. Tamboura extricated himself from the tightly enveloping arms and legs of M'dong and slid down from the shelf. Sabumbo and Khandago were already awake and up, sitting on the edge of their bunk, contentedly scratching themselves in the sun. They saw the big door open and a huge, steaming cauldron wheeled in. As Tamboura was the youngest, it was his lot to take their bowl across to have it filled. Embarrassed by a healthy morning erection, he hesitated to go until he saw that most of the men were in a like condition. Comparing himself with the others and noting his own superiority, he joined in the procession, strutting pridefully and a little arrogantly to the laughing comments of his fellows. While he waited for his bowl to be filled, his tumescence subsided. But even in this condition, he noted that he still had the advantage, and he walked back to his companions as peacock-proud as he had left them.

This morning there was no meat, but the food was warm and tasted good and it filled their stomachs comfortably. After they had finished eating, the doors of the barracoon opened to admit a procession so strange and unusual to Tamboura and his companions that they could only regard it with eyes wide and mouths agape. There were so many things they had never seen before that it seemed they had been transported to a land of miracles. Several of the factory slaves carried in a strange wooden affair, painted white. It consisted of a wall of boards, higher than a man's head, atop a platform which was about waist-high from the ground and had two steps leading up to it. The white background of boards had horizontal black and red stripes running the width of it, which was about that of a man with his arms extended.

As though this marvel were not enough, other slaves appeared lugging a huge wooden stool, gaily trimmed with feathers, colored silks and beads, which they set down a few paces in front of the strange wooden affair. Then came another stool, this one as big as the first but devoid of decorations, which was placed beside the first. Following this, two more slaves entered, each bearing a huge umbrella, one of a plain, dark green stuff and the other as gaily ornamented as the stool. Another black entered with a low table, agleam with brightly polished brass things which he

48 kyle onstott

placed between the two big stools, and the slaves with umbrellas took up their positions in the rear. Tamboura was certain that the strange things were stools for he had seen such wooden things to sit on in his own village, but he had never seen such large ones with a back to lean against and places to rest one's arms.

While they were all regarding these marvels and chattering among themselves, he saw Ama-jallah enter, flanked by two white men. White men! Yes, he agreed with M'dong that they were white, although one, the younger, was whiter than the other. And, perhaps most remarkable of all, the younger one had hair the color of the sun and it grew long and fine. His white cheeks were tinged with pink, his nostrils small and his lips red and thin instead of dark and thick. They were, Tamboura thought, quite the strangest looking men he had even seen—unreal and ghostly—and he noted that the older man looked sick and unhappy, for his deep-set dark eyes looked around the compound with a lackluster gaze.

Ama-jallah took his place on the decorated seat, the older man on the plain one, and the young man with yellow hair stood between them and behind the table. The slaves with the umbrellas adjusted them so that the three men were in the shade and then the older man spoke to the same slave who wore the funny cloth garment of red with the gold trimmings. He came trotting around the edges of the com-poimd, waking up those who were still sleeping and making everyone get up and stand straight before his shelf. When they were all standing, he started the line marching and it advanced slowly across the hard-packed earth. As they neared the white-painted wooden platform, the first man was told to mount and stand, facing the two seated men.

He was young, and Tamboura remembered seeing him in the canoe ahead of his. He could tell that the fellow was frightened. He was shivering and shaking as he mounted the platform with reluctant steps. Tamboura could not blame him for nobody knew what might happen to the fellow. This might be some strong magic of the white man which would kill. But nothing happened, at least nothing of importance. The black boy stood there and the red-coated Negro pushed his head up against the stripes on the wall behind him, while the seated white man spoke to the young fellow behind him and he did something with a little stick on something white which he held in his hand. Then the

old man spoke to Ama-jallah and the red-coated Negro led the young black over to the two men. He had to get down on his knees in front of the old man, who went all over his body, opening his mouth and putting his fingers inside, pinnin g his hands with careful explorations over arms, shoulders, chest and head. Then, at a word from Red Coat, the boy stood up and the white man called him close to where he was sitting. Again his hands explored the fellow's body, sliding down his thighs, feeling the calves of his legs, even lifting and examining those private parts of a man which no other man should ever touch. However, no harm happened to the fellow and he was dismissed with a nod of the white man's head. Then it was another's turn and another's and still many others' before Tamboura found him--self standing at the foot of the steps that led up to the white platform. He mounted, and although the others had remained there for only the time it took to draw ten breaths, he was kept there longer, standing first on one foot and then on the other, while the three men drank something that was poured out of a brass pot into some strange white cups. He was so near he could hear them talking and he could even understand their strangely accented Hausa words.

"If they're all as good as these first ones, Your Highness, you've brought as fine a lot as usual." It was the old man who was speaking to Ama-jallah.

"I do not bother with old ones, weak ones, sick ones or those who have been scarred in battle or have defects. It does not pay. It's too much work to get them here and it takes as much trouble to bring an old man as a young one." Ama-jallah glanced up at the platform and noticed Tamboura standing there, whom he remembered. The boy had been a good bargain; he had paid nothing for what was undoubtedly the best slave of the lot.

"See that." Ama-jallah's languid hand motioned to Tamboura. "That's what I mean. You could scour the length and breadth of Africa and find nothing better. Young, well-built, well-hung and handsome. Yes, even royal African blood, for he is the son of old King Tooma and the brother of King Mandouma. Royal Hausa! I'll want a premium on him."

Tamboura saw the old man put down the white thing he was drinking from and raise his head. His eyes looked straight into Tamboura's. For a long time, the space of three breaths, they looked at each other, and finally the

man beckoned to Tamboura to come to him. Tamboura came and knelt before him as he had seen the others do and he could feel the moist warmth of the man's hands as they passed over his head, around his ears, opened his eyelids and then his mouth. He tasted the strange acrid taste of the man's fingers as they entered his mouth and felt his teeth. He saw the man's hands and felt them as they gauged the muscles in his arms and the thickness of his chest, and he knew that he had pleased the man for the long fingers gave his nipples a little pinch—not enough to hurt them but playfully.

Again the hands started their investigations, down across his belly, into the little patch of hair, lifting the genitals, even pulling back the dewlap of skin which Tamboura hated so. He weighed it in his hands and laughed, speaking in some unknown tongue to the yellow-haired man- standing behind his chair. The yellow-haired man laughed back. Then Tamboura had to turn around while the white man grasped his buttocks and pulled them apart and held them there a brief moment. That was all, but strangely enough, as the Negro in the red coat motioned for him to leave, the white man stopped Tamboura and spoke to him.

"What is your name?" he asked in Hausa.

"I am Tamboura, the brother of Mandouma."

"And your spirit, Tamboura?"

"I am of the Earth and my spirit is the lion."

"It's a brave spirit. Tomorrow, this man here"—the whit€ man pointed to Red Coat—"will come and fetch you. He will bring you to my hut. Do not be afraid, nothing will] harm you." j

Ama-jallah leaned forward in his chair and smiled. It was a confidential smile but at the same time libidinous and salacious. One eye closed knowingly.

"You like the boy, Mongo Don? I didn't know that youi had an affection for boys. Ah, but he is very beautiful,! is he not? One cannot blame you. I was tempted myself on the way here. When one's hareem does not travel withi one. . . ." He spread his hands wide in a gesture of helplessness.

Tamboura heard the old man sigh, and when he spoke to Ama-jallah he was not soft-talking him as he had beeni all along. His words were angry words but he spoke them softly and they did not sound sufficiently angry that Ama-i jallah might take offense.

I "Not what you're thinking, Your Highness. This boy nor any other has ever appealed to me that way, but suddenly I see something wonderful. I see something more than a slave I am buying from you to ship to Cuba. Here in this one perfect specimen, I see all Africa, all the dignity and beauty and grandeur of this stinking hell-hole. It must have taken many generations of carefully selected breeding to produce a specimen like that."

"The family of King Mandouma is a very ancient one in Africa, Mongo Don."

"It must be to produce that. No, Your Highness, I have no desire to initiate this youth into the practices you mention. Instead I would preserve him in all his vigor and manliness. I have a desire to paint him."

Ama-jaUah smiled. "He was painted when he was brought to me—painted with white clay and red stripes for his initiation into manhood."

"I do not mean to paint his body like that. I would draw his likeness in colors. I am inspired, Your Highness. I shall paint a portrait of him."

Ama-jallah bowed his head and held up an admonitory finger to Mongo Don. "Ah, but that is forbidden. Our Prophet writes that no delineation shall be made of man or beast or any living thing."

"But I do not subscribe to Islam, Your Highness, and seeing that this boy is your slave, although soon to become mine, I do not believe that he does either, for I know that the sons of the Prophet may not be sold into slavery."

Tamboura understood the words that the two were speaking but he could not understand their meaning clearly. He only knew that he had pleased the white man, who was not unkind, and that the white man would reward him.

chapter vi

Tamboura was awake with the first bright streaks of the sun Turning on his side, he looked out over the light-floode< compound. He did not know at what hour he would Ik sent for but he wished to be ready, so he slid down fron the shelf without disturbing M'dong or the others and walket across the compound to the latrine. On his way back, h( stopped at the open keg of palm oil, dipped his hands ii it and carefully oiled his body, rubbing it well into hi skin so that it shone. Beside the keg of oil, he discoverec a palm frond which had fallen into the compound and h(' idly stripped the leaves from it as he walked along. Sitting in the warmth of the sun, he shredded the fronds anc started weaving a small flat envelope for no reason excepi to pass the time. But gradually a purpose came to his work During the days on the water he had had no contact with his spirit Earth, and as his fingers plaited the palm, he resolved never to be separated from his spirit again. HiJ deft fingers finished the little container and he scraped up some of the hard-packed dirt and placed it inside, sealing the packet with a tightly woven closure. Then he painstakingly braided a fine strand of palm, which he fastened to the small amulet and hung around his neck. From now on, merely by touching it, he would have contact with Earth, and he knew that his spirit would not desert him.

Gradually the occupants of the shelves roused themselves, nudged their bedmates awake and swung their legs over the edges of their bunks. The morning priapic parade wended its unhmried way to the latrine, accompanied by the usual good-natured bantering. It was not long before the outsidei door opened and the kettle of food was wheeled inside. Red Coat, still wearing his single garment which seemed to be his only possession, stood beside the kettle, his eyes shaded with his hand, looking around at the mass of young Negroes—one scarcely identifiable from the other in their

)lack nakedness. He spotted Tamboura and beckoned him to ipproach, ladling out a bowl of the slop that now served IS breakfast. As Tamboura held up the bowl, Red Coat )ade him eat and told him that when he left, Tamboura vas to accompany him. Tamboura had scarcely time to ;arry the bowl to his friends and dip his fingers into it >efore Red Coat summoned him. He led Tamboura down o the river, gave him more of the slimy stuff that whitened lis body in the water, told him to wash himself clean, hen handed him grass to dry his body with. Tamboura's noming toilet had been wasted, as the oil was all washed >ff, but even without the oil his body gleamed. Red Coat nade him squat down so that he might see if he had any ice in his hair and then examined the small patch of hair m his body to see if he had crabs. He found Tamboura ree from vermin and told him to follow.

BOOK: Drum
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