John Burkitt - The Spirit Quest

“What are you doing??” Uzuri stared. “He’s dead. Let him rest in peace!”

“Bear with me.” Rafiki blew several more breaths into the cub, and then when he was about to give up, the cub grimaced, coughed, and took in a deep gasp.

“Oh my gods!” Uzuri shouted. “He raised the dead!”

“What happened?” Akase asked. “Did I hear what I thought I heard?”

“He’s alive!”

Swimming in a sea of elation, Rafiki held the little cub close to his heart. “Thank you, Aiheu! Thank you!” He kissed him and whirled about, holding his wet body to his face. “Oh, you precious little thing! God bless you! Live forever!”

“He must nurse,” Akase reminded him. “If you’re finished, my friend....”

“Oh yes.” He put the undersized cub next to his brother and watched the two of them draw life from their mother. He bent down and kissed Akase, then he went to Uzuri, hugged her and kissed her cheek.

“We have a custom,” Akase said softly. “You have saved his life twice now. You are his uncle now, and he is your nephew.”

“I like that custom.”

He looked down at the cub. “What is his name?”

“I call him Taka. And his brother is Mufasa. I had thought of those names for a long time.”

“Taka,” he said. “My little Taka.”

Then in the middle of his haze of joy, he remembered hugging and kissing Uzuri. He looked back over at her. A blush of embarrassment made the colors of his face all the brighter. She stared back at him, rubbing her cheek with a paw.

Quietly, he gathered up his staff, his empty water gourd, bowed to the queen and headed out.

He dared not look around, but could hear behind him the padding of lioness feet. As he headed at long last toward his baobab, he tried to be casual about it. Still the feet followed him. He cringed inside.

“Oh Rafiki?”

He stopped still but didn’t look around. “Yes, Uzuri?”

She came up beside him and sat down directly in his path. “Am I mistaken, or did you kiss me in the cave?”

“I think it was on the cheek, actually.” He made a feeble attempt at laughter. “I was just so happy for little Taka. You know, the cub I saved?”

“So that was it? You were so happy for little Taka?” Betraying no emotions, she drew closer. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I’m not sure. Should I have?”

She cracked a grin. “Why don’t you try again, and this time pay attention.”

He smiled an embarrassed grin and came forward. “Like this?” He put his arms around her neck, rubbing his hands along her side and nestling his cheek to her shoulder. “Uzuri, I enjoyed every moment of our time together. You are a very special lady, and very dear to my heart.”

She touched him with her tongue. “You must teach me how to breathe into a cub. Where did you ever learn that?”

“You know, I didn’t learn that,” he said, still holding tightly to Uzuri. “It just came to me.”

“That’s amazing.” She touched him with her tongue again. “You may let go now.”

“Oh.” He gave her another pat and let his arms slip down. “I got a little carried away.”

“That’s all right. But wash off before you hug me again.”

“Oh.” Blood and humors had matted his hair and made him smell like a newborn cub. “Ycch! Good heavens!” He left straightway for the creek.

When Ahadi’s sons were old enough, they would come to Makedde who loved children of all kinds. He would tell them stories from the simian past and the leonine past. Rafiki loved to hear these as well, and he would get snacks for the cubs when they came. Making these treats was no small task, for they were small strips of meat cured and dried with spices. It was a sign of Rafiki’s devotion to the children that he would scavenge the meat, for while mandrills were corban to the lions, the hyenas did not honor the Peace of Asumini and would gladly snack on mandrill! However Rafiki soon forgot the danger when he saw the smiles on the cubs’ faces when he held out the jerky from behind his back. “Are there any good little cubs here?” The resultant tumult was deafening, but both Rafiki and Makedde loved every minute of it.

Makedde would not have approved the extra tidbits that Rafiki handed out when his back was turned. At times he wondered why the children always flocked to his younger brother whenever they came calling. But of all the cubs, only Taka would get an occasional piece of rare Tiko root. Rafiki would hold up the root and say, “Who do you love?”

“You, Uncle Fiki!”

“How much do you love me?”

“More than life!”

Laughing, Rafiki would drop the Tiko root and Taka would snap it up. He never let it hit the ground once. But after the prize was eaten, Taka would wait to nuzzle Rafiki and say, “I really do, honest.” He knew to close his eyes quickly, for sure as the world Rafiki would kiss him on the face and whisper, “My precious little boy!” These were the moments of unbridled joy by which Taka would later measure the depths of his pain.

Rafiki was nearly crushed by the enormous number of things he had to learn. Makedde was patient, but he knew that there was much his young brother needed to know to be confirmed as a shaman, and he pushed Rafiki as far as he safely thought he could. And this urgency was not without just cause. The struggle of Aiheuism and Pistism was heating up again, or so Wandani had said when he made the long trip to the baobab. Makoko did not have the years of acceptance that had made his father a fixture in the political landscape. And even worse, he did not have the talent or the desire to dig up secrets on his enemies which he seemed to inherit simply by being Kinara’s son.

Scrying was Rafiki’s favorite activity. He would have been even more enthusiastic about it if Makedde did not impose such strict rules. The pursuit of the future and past can take one’s mind off the present, and that is where all of Aiheu’s creatures find their rightful work. Rafiki had a tendency to cling to his unfortunate mother, something that only served to deepen his hurt for he could see her but not touch her. Makedde was strict, but only as strict as he had to be, so there were times it was all right for Rafiki to contact his loved ones.

Opening a window on the spirit realm was not without risk. It had to be done carefully and only after certain precautions had been taken. The lesser Makei were by and large morose spirits in search of salvation, and were by their nature prone to try and better themselves. The greater Makei, however, were ruthless and would take any means to work mischief on the world of Ma’at. They waited for someone to open a passageway they could go through. For this reason, no shaman would scry without first invoking the chief Nisei. Mano and Minshasa were of all the Nisei the most powerful, and their link to Aiheu was very strong. They would sweep away the dark spirits to let only the truth come through. Rafiki was working on his guardian prayers when three visitors came to the baobab.