Solomon's Throne (27 page)

“Hey! Come over here. There’s path through this grove of…whatever these trees are. Maybe it goes to a village or something.”

Gideon jogged over. Sure enough, there was a path. Whether it was a game trail or a path made by people, he didn’t really care at the moment. He started down it, grateful for the shade of the trees. He thought they were eucalyptus trees, and they were quite tall but had no foliage at the bottom. That left them somewhat exposed, but it was a lot better than open plain.

The path meandered side to side, made inexplicable turns, and seemed to be leading nowhere. Gideon had just about given up, thinking it must really be a game trail, when two small boys appeared on the path, walking in the opposite direction, with the ubiquitous yellow water jugs on their heads. Smiling shyly, they giggled as the
muRungus
passed by.

Bolstered by their appearance, Rei picked up her pace, and in five minutes they were in a small, four hut village. Old women sat at the doorways, tending small fires topped with cooking pots. Naked toddlers with beads around their waists played with rocks and sticks. One very elderly man was napping on a woven reed mat. When the Quinns walked into the center of the encampment, all but the sleeping man looked up in surprise.

Rei smiled and waved. The women nodded at her, but didn’t rise.

“English?” Rei asked.

The nearest woman shook her head. “
Kwete.”

“Is that Swahili?” Gideon asked?

“I don’t think so. The people here are Shona… But I don’t speak Swahili anyway.”

Rei pantomimed driving a car. “Car?” She asked hopefully, although she didn’t see one, and there were obviously no roads. The woman shook her head again, starting to get amused.

“Airport?” Rei stuck her arms out and swooped around like a child playing at flying. The woman burst out laughing, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“
Kwete.”

Several of the toddlers came over to join in the game, and a young girl grabbed Gideon’s hand and watched solemnly. Rei stopped in front of Gideon and shrugged.

“I’m out of ideas.”

“You’re pretty good at charades, though,” he said.

“Funny. So what do we do now?”

Gideon took off the two backpacks and set them on the ground. “We wait, I guess. There aren’t any young men or women here now. Someone is bound to come back, maybe for that food they’re cooking. There must be at least one villager who speaks English—it’s the official language of the country!”

Rummaging through the pack, he brought out two bottles of water. Immediately they were swarmed by the children calling, “
Chokunwa!”
One of the old women had gotten to her feet and was trying to shush them. Laughing, Gideon handed her one of the bottles and tried to repeat the word.

“
Chokunwa!”
he said, and the woman laughed behind her hand again, her eyes crinkling.

Gideon and Rei rested for an hour on a reed mat given to them by the laughing woman. It was quiet and pleasant in the shade, and they were exhausted from their escape, so they dozed and chatted and tried to determine what to do next. Gideon knew that both Captain McMillan and the taxi driver would be concerned, the captain rather more than the driver, who would probably just shake his head at the crazy Americans. They had eluded the
Congratio a Achalichus
monks for the time being, but they still had to find a way to their plane, which was almost certainly being watched. Gideon had checked his phone and Rei’s, but they no longer had a signal. There wasn’t much to do but wait.

Finally, two young men walked into the village from the opposite direction of the trail that had led the Quinns there. Both had hoes over their shoulders, and they were talking and laughing as they came into the common area between the huts. When they spotted the
muRungus
they stopped and looked at the old woman, still sitting in the doorway. They conversed for minute or two, and then approached. Gideon and Rei stood up and nodded their heads in greeting.

“English?” Rei asked. One of the men nodded.

“Small English, from school.”

“We need to go to Masvingo. To town. Yes?” The young man consulted his friend.

“Masvingo far by walk. One day.” He held up a finger to make sure they understood.

“Does anyone have a car nearby?” Here Rei once again pantomimed driving, and the men laughed. Then they consulted again.

“Wife she work at hotel. Hotel have car. We go.”

Gideon and Rei both shook their heads, and the men looked confused, not sure if they had misunderstood the question.

“To town, not to hotel. Another way?” Rei asked hopefully. The men chatted for several minutes this time, one gesturing back towards the hotel, and the other to the north. Finally they seemed to reach a decision.

“
Hurudza
…farmer there.” He pointed to the north. “He have truck, many truck. We go.” He smiled. This time the Quinns both nodded agreement.

The young man said, “Shumba,” and pointed to himself. “I am Shumba.” Gideon and Rei introduced themselves, and gathered up their few belongings.

Shumba called to the grandmother in the doorway and said something, accompanied by arm waving towards the north. The woman smiled, without showing teeth, and waved at the Quinns.

“
Oneka!”
she called out.

“We go!” Shumba said happily, enjoying this change of pace.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S
humba walked easily down the
trails, moving at a comfortable pace. His shoes were two sizes too large and had holes in them, but he didn’t seem to notice. Warthogs snuffled along and crossed the trail, never getting very close, but not seeming to be disturbed by their presence. Small antelope could be seen grazing, and several dozen had gathered at one outcropping, where they were licking what seemed to be rock.

“
Munyu.
” Shumba said when Rei pointed. “Salt. They lick for to be strong.”

This trail was much like the first, although it meandered through open plain and acacia more than through tall trees. The sun was hot, and even though their pace was measured, both Rei and Gideon were sweating. Rei had taken back her backpack, although Gideon had her laptop in his own, and sweat was running in rivulets down both of their backs.

After two hours, Shumba pointed to a thin line of smoke in the sky. “Farm.” This news gave the Quinns a second wind, and they arrived at the farm twenty minutes later in good spirits. Shumba went up to the stone house, which sported a blue tin roof, and called out. A middle aged woman with an elaborate head cloth but otherwise drab clothes came to the doorway. The two conversed for several minutes, and the woman nodded and went inside.

“Farmer come home soon.
Ngosikadzi
give us something to eat, and tea. We wait.” He indicated an area under the one acacia tree nearby which had been covered with reed rugs. Rei and Gideon removed their burdens and sat down, stretching their backs. In several minutes the lady brought out a carved wooden tray with hot tea and sweet cookies on it. They took both gratefully and smiled at her.

After another hour long wait, they heard men’s voices and the sound of a vehicle with a serious exhaust problem. Looking towards the road they saw an old pickup truck crest the small hill, with about a dozen men sitting in the back talking and laughing. When they saw the
muRungus
they all laughed, but it seemed good natured. They waved, and all piled out of the truck as soon as it stopped. The driver exited also, and walked over to them.

“Good day,” he said in accented English, and nodded his head. Shumba beamed.

“Hello,” said Rei. “We have come from Shumba’s village…” At this Shumba nodded enthusiastically. “And we need to get into town. We can pay you for your trouble, of course.”

The man frowned a bit. White people were always rushing things, and talking of money. “You come.” He waved them inside. When Shumba didn’t follow, he turned and said something to him in Shona. Shumba grinned and followed behind them.

“Sit!” He waved to a table and four chairs. “
Funda,”
he said to the woman, obviously his wife. “We eat first. I have worked all day, and am hungry.” His wife brought more tea for them all, and went out a back doorway where they could smell food on a charcoal fire. She returned with bowls of beans, rice, stewed meat, fried greens, and
chingwa
for sopping up the sauces. No one spoke until all the food had been eaten, and the cook had been thanked enthusiastically.

“I am Martin,” the farmer said. He pointed to his wife. “This is my wife, Patience. My sons were on the truck, they are now at their own homes.”

“Were all those your sons?” Rei asked, eyebrows raised.

The farmer laughed. “No, not all sons. Some are workers. Five sons. Three daughters.” He smiled. “You have sons?” he asked Gideon.

“No sir,” Gideon shook his head. “Not yet.” He smiled at Rei.

Rei smiled back, but was getting impatient as the day was drawing to a close. “Martin, we really do need to get to town. Our friend will be very worried about us.”

Martin sat back in his chair and folded his hands together across his stomach. “You got lost,” he said. “From where?”

Rei glanced quickly at Gideon. “We were foolish… We were at the ruins of Great Zimbabwe, and we wandered off. It was so beautiful out there. We got turned around, and ended up at Shumba’s village. But our phones don’t work here, and we would like to go to Masvinga to find our friends.”

Martin looked at them for a long moment. Gideon knew that the story was implausible, but he also knew the real story was implausible. He took Rei’s hand under the table and squeezed.

“Yes. I will take you to the city tomorrow. We cannot go tonight, the road is very bad. Cattle and antelope on the road, and many holes. It is not safe. Tomorrow, we go.”

They saw that there was no sense arguing for an earlier departure. The man’s truck was obviously old, and they had no idea where they were. Gideon nodded. They knew it was unsafe to drive at night in Zimbabwe, and not just for the four legged animals.

“Thank you so much.” Rei said, and Martin and his wife smiled, she behind her hand.

It got dark at 6:30 and Martin and his wife lit the few oily candles in their small home. Patience laid out two reed mats in the corner of the room near the fireplace, and brought over a half dozen brightly colored woven blankets, smiling shyly as she handed them to Gideon. Having no clothes and no toiletries, getting ready for bed was a quick affair, and by 8:00 the house was quiet. After their long day, Rei and Gideon fell asleep quickly, even on the hard ground.

At first light, the household arose, and the smell of coffee and sounds of cooking woke them up. Rei went out the back doorway to the open air cooking area and tried to offer to help, but Patience shooed her back inside with a giggle. Gideon found a pitcher of water and a bowl on a table, and washed his face, then went out to the outhouse. Rei wasn’t overly fond of the outhouse, but had to agree that it was much better than her one other experience with a public toilet in Africa.