John Burkitt - The Spirit Quest

“I deserve it,” he thought. “I have destroyed the very thing I love!” Aloud he whispered, "Oh God, what am I doing out here?"

"I was about to ask you the same question."

He turned to see Asumini behind him. "What?"

"Your dinner is ready."

He shook his head. "I don't think I could stomach anything right now."

The night breeze ruffled her hair gently as she sat next to him and hugged him close. "What's wrong?"

"I ruined young Taka's life, today. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?!" He clutched his head in his hands. "Am I really the one Minshasa chose to serve the King? God rest his soul, but maybe your father’s dreams were bigger than his hold on reality." He raised his head and looked at her glumly. "You always did like the forest better than the savanna anyway, didn't you?"

Her forehead furrowed in confusion. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm talking about quitting." He looked back at the dark skyline, avoiding her questioning gaze. "I'd be better off foraging for a living than dabbling in things I have no talent for."

"What?" Asumini drew back in disbelief. "Metutu, you can't! You are a wonderful healer, and a fine shaman."

"Pfah. I should have stuck with being a scribe. When Mother died, I hurt so badly. Gods, Asumini, I just wanted to DO something, to make a difference!" he shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Oh, I made a difference, all right! In a matter of seconds I took everything Taka held dear and ripped it to shreds. He would have been better off had I never shown my face here."

Asumini moved around and looked him in the eyes. "He would have been dead had you never shown your face here. Along with his brother and mother. You made a difference then, love. You will do it again."

"So I saved his life only to ruin it three moons later. I've accomplished something indeed." He reached out and broke a stem from a nearby branch, twisting it between his fingers slowly. "Asumini, your father showed me his dream. I was supposed to be the chief that would save mandrill society from itself. I was SUPPOSED to be the voice of Aiheu to my people." Angrily, he cast the twig away. "I reward his trust by dragging you out in the middle of nowhere and playing God."

Asumini sat silently for a moment, then rose. She carefully made her way over to the branch and began to climb down, but paused. "Rafiki?"

Rafiki half turned. "Yes?"

"I love you dearly, and will stay with you no matter what you decide. But think on this. If you had the choice to make all over again, if you could choose between becoming the great chief and leader of our people, or saving the life of that one little cub: which would it be?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left.

It was well into the night before he followed her. He slept only lightly, and his dreams were fraught with nightmares, in which the scene with Taka was repeated over and over. Finally he gave up, rising long before the sun made an appearance, and climbing quietly up to his perch where he had sat the previous night. Crossing his legs, he gazed into the expectant eastern sky, looking like a stone sentinel set to guard over some priceless treasure.

Feeling the tree shake, he looked about and saw Makedde ascending behind him. “Good morning, brother.”

“Good morning, Rafiki. Up early, I see.” Makedde froze in the midst of reaching for a handhold, shock widening his eyes as he stared at his brother. “My God, what has happened to you?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Go look at yourself!”

Rafiki climbed down, grumbling irritably. “Honestly. I just haven’t had much sleep, brother.” Reaching the naos of the baobab, he meandered over to the scrying bowl which still stood full of water. “From the look on your face, I’d have thought you had seen a monster.”

Suddenly he caught sight of his reflection. An old mandrill, wizened and white-haired with age, stared back at him.

“Oh my gods, what has happened to me?” Rafiki moaned, clutching at his cheeks with his fingers, feeling the irrefutable evidence of the lines etched within. He turned to Makedde, who stood next to him, the horror in Rafiki’s eyes reflected in his own. “Brother? What’s wrong with me?”

“It was the Makei.” Makedde sat down heavily. “The spirit has drained much of your youth.”

“And left this empty husk behind,” Rafiki added bitterly, staring at his withered hands. “Why didn’t it finish the job?? Why didn’t it go ahead and kill me!”

“Do not speak such nonsense!” Makedde grabbed Rafiki by the shoulders roughly. “Your body may be weakened, but your mind is untouched. Use it! Think, brother!”

“I am.” Rafiki shook him off and snatched up an empty basket Makedde used to store dried herbs. Picking up his digging stick, he chucked it inside, and reached for a small pouch of medicines.

“What are you doing?” Makedde said, watching him toss item after item into the basket.

“Thinking.” Rafiki continued to pack the basket without looking up. “I think it would be best if I left this place for good.”

Makedde looked alarmed. "Brother, these are hasty thoughts, borne of the heart, and not the head. Reconsider."

Rafiki shook his head. "This is for the best. I will best serve the house of Ahadi by staying as far away from it as possible, now. I have caused enough damage by my folly." He picked up his medicine pouch and tossed it into the basket. To his irritation, a small packet slipped out and landed with a slap on the ground. Grumbling, he walked over and picked it up.

The old, brittle covering of leaves fell away, and he found himself staring at a small remnant of Maraliscus. The soft fronds tickled his palm as he ran them through his fingers gently.

Makedde cocked his head curiously. "What's that you've got there?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Just some Maraliscus leaf." He crammed it unceremoniously into the basket. "Leftover herbs; you know."

"Indeed I do." Makedde frowned sternly. "I know you are making a big mistake in going."

"Brother, please! You know this is for the best."

"I know nothing of the sort. What I DO know is that-" he broke off, staring over Rafiki's shoulder. Turning to look, the mandrill saw a questing paw appear at the edge of the baobab's lobby-like center. Small claws which had been only partway retracted now flicked out to their full extent, and a very weary looking lion cub hauled himself up into the tree.

"Taka?? What are you doing here??"

The little cub looked at him curiously. "Uncle Fiki asked me to come back this morning so he could check my eye. Is he still asleep?"

Rafiki felt a thorn pierce his heart. "No! No, Taka. It’s me!" Rafiki walked over and knelt in front of the cub, holding his hand out. Taka sniffed it curiously, then looked up at him, bewildered. “Uncle Fiki?! What’s wrong with your face?”

Rafiki ran a hand over his features tremblingly, then forced a smile to his face. “I’m just getting older. Now, be a big boy and hold still while I look at the cut, okay?”

“Okay.” Taka cocked his head obligingly, but squinted the other eye shut, anticipating pain.

With the lightest of touches, Rafiki gently moved the fur away from the torn eye. The mandrill nodded approvingly, seeing the clean area where Akase's careful tongue had done its job. "Good. No infection in the cut. But I'm afraid my brother was right, it will leave a scar." He clucked sympathetically. "You poor child. This should never have happened to one so young."

Taka smiled up at him, his swollen eyelid making his grin lopsided, and all the more endearing. "It’s OK. It doesn't hurt that bad."

"Oh, now aren't we the big brave lion!" Rafiki again forced a smile to his face. He fought to hold his emotions in check, wondering how Taka couldn’t see the turmoil inside.