Zahrah the Windseeker

  "You, dada girl?"

  "Zahrah," I said, following Dari's choice to tell the truth. I figured since he gave his real name, I might as well, too. We would both get in trouble.

  "A mile from here is your death, you know," Iwene said.

  "Iwene!" Tabansi said. "Don't—"

  "Don' scare 'em?" Iwene asked. "And why not? Might as well know what they getting into."

  "True, true," Kwenu said. "If they not scared now, they going to be once they get in there."

  Iwene stepped up to us and cocked his head. Dari only flared his nostrils, maintaining eye contact with the man.

  "We can tell you stories that will keep you awake at night. And these aren't made-up stories. No, no. These really happen. Look at me. I been working in the oil-palm farms since seventeen. Over twenty years of being right next to them green, green crazy trees and such. We seen things, children. And trust us, you don' want to go in there. You won't come out."

  "What have you seen?" Dari asked. His eyes were wide in the way they get when something has 100 percent of his attention.

  Iwene squatted down in front of us and rubbed his oily chin with his oily hands. His skin was black and smooth, like polished onyx. He turned to his friends.

  "Should I tell him 'bout Yabu?" he asked.

  They both nodded. He threw his chewing stick into the bushes.

  "Yabu worked in the palm kernel farms. Palm kernel trees are the closest to the cursed forest. They run right next to the forest. None of us knew him in body, but we know a friend who knew his best friend. All us farmers know 'bout Yabu. His story reminds us to be careful, that we work in a place that can eat us alive, leave not a trace of us behind. You listenin'?"

  We both nodded. I didn't want to hear anymore. This was all I needed to hear to turn back. I didn't want to listen to the rest of the story at all.

  "Yabu was a hard-workin' man, but he was like you two—his eye was always wandering. To the sky, the dirt, and to that cursed jungle."

  "And he was always asking questions," said Kwenu.

  Iwene nodded.

  "He was curious. And one day, curiosity changed his life forever," Iwene continued.

  "No," corrected Kwenu. "Curiosity ended his life."

  "It was the day that it rained," said Iwene. "And as Yabu leaned back on his sling, machete in hand, chopping at the palm kernel cluster, red palm oil on his face and hands, something must a caught his eye. The first thing that one who works this close to the jungle is told to never do is look directly into the jungle. Even if you see a glimmer with your side vision, hear a noise that sounds like a crying baby, a smell that reminds you of your mother's tastiest dish.

  "Never ever look into the jungle. You too close. You too vulnerable. Just focus on your tree and your job. But this day, something caught his eye. Must have caught and held it because he climbed down from his tree and walked right up to the forest border.

  "I tell you, his fellow farmers all yelled at him to look away! 'What are you doing, Yabu,' they shouted. Some of them started to climb down from their trees, but it was like Yabu couldn't hear them. Like he was in a trance!

  "When a bunch of farmers made it down, they could see what caught his eye. And that's why none of them was able to stop him. No one would go near him. No one wanted to get infected by the jungle. We all got families, husbands, wives to love, children to feed, responsibilities.

  "You want to know what it was that he saw, eh? You want to know what caused this man to do the insane and stand right on the border of the forbidden cursed jungle and stare into its innards? You all know what masquerades are, no? See them dancing during festivals. People dressed up in layers and layers of colorful clothes and raffia and grass. Some got heads with three or four faces, all with different expressions. Some stand ten feet tall. Supposed to be the spirits of the dead who come up from the anthills to frolic with humans during celebrations.

  "Well, this was like no masquerade anyone had ever seen, and the other farmers quickly moved as far from the forest as they could, without a look back.

  "But poor Yabu ... was it curiosity or fascination, or was it the glam of the jungle? Coulda been all three. But he just stood there staring at that thing. Folks described what they had glimpsed as being over twenty feet in height! That it had a great big head made of smooth wood with at least seven angry faces. The ones facing Yabu all looked at him.

  "Its body was wider than two cars and made of layers of hanging green vines and dried grass and ribbons of blue cloth. And something else was dripping off of it. Something green and smokelike. Could have been any substance!

  "Anyway, something did something to Yabu. Made him lose his mind. Who knows what went through his head in those last moments. His sanity was sapped away. Just that fast. Gone. Because he started walking. He crossed that border, the place where the dry grassy ground turned to tangled vines, gnarled tree roots, and Joukoujou knows what else.

  "And he kept walking. He walked right up to that horrible monster. And as he walked, it was like something was pullin' him in a direction that he didn't want to be pulled. He moved stiffly and jerkily, as if he was fightin' whatever had a hold on him. He walk right up to that horrible monster and phhoooippp! Green thick vines shot out from the masquerade! So many vines, o! Wrapped him up like a yam fest present. You could hear him scream as it happened. And those vines must have had barbs in them because some people who saw it happen from their trees said they saw blood ooze from between the vines.

  "The screams stopped and he fell. Without a glance in the farmer's direction, the monster dragged Yabu between the trees and was gone. Just ... like ... that.

  "Yabu was never seen again," Iwene said.

  Oh, I felt so sick. I could see that horrible masquerade. An evil ghost just waiting for its chance. And when it had it, it would have no mercy. You could scream and thrash, but it would never let go. It would suck the life from you and then return to where it came from, having fed on your blood and spirit. I wanted to flee from that road that was so close to where this beast probably lived. We were heading into certain death, I was sure. Our schoolbooks had not lied. Why would they lie? They were just looking out for us, teaching us to look out for ourselves.

  I looked at Dari, knowing I'd see the same look of fear and agitation. Dari was a proud boy. It would be hard for him to admit he'd been wrong. It would sting him. But a little sting was better than being torn apart by some evil masquerades' otherworldly vines! And evil masquerades definitely weren't the only things in the forest that could kill us. Of course not.

  I bit my lip hard when I saw the look on Dari's face. And then I felt my heart flip with horror as he opened his mouth and laughed out loud.

  "Nonsense!" he said. "You speak as if you were right next to the man! You weren't. You didn't even know him."

  Iwene looked at Dari as if Dari had grown ten years older and punched him in the face.

  "You don't believe me?" he exclaimed with shock. He looked at Kwenu and Tabansi. Kwenu sucked his teeth loudly, looking angry.

  "Enough of this, " Kwenu said. He waved a dismissive hand at Dari. "The child is just vomiting trash. The minute we leave, they'll run back home. Look at the girl."

  They all took a moment to look at my terrified face. That seemed to be enough to satisfy them.

  There was a loud siren sound, and all three men stood up very straight.

  "Ah, ah! What is the time?" Iwene exclaimed.

  "Noon! We won't make it now."

  "Oh Joukoujou! We'll be fired this time for sure," Tabansi shouted.

  It was as if they had forgotten we were even there. They hoisted their things onto their backs and scrambled toward the place where they'd come from. And within seconds they were gone.

  "Cursed forest indeed," Dari said. Then he did something that made me almost faint with shock. In that moment, I felt deathly ill. Nauseated with terror. My legs felt weak, like overboiled sweet bean sprouts. He looked back to make sure the men were gone, and then he
turned and started heading down the road again. He was still intent on going in.

  "Dari! You still want to—"

  "Of course!" he said. "I didn't come all this way to be scared off by some old farmers' legend. We're both smarter than that"

  I followed him, trying to think of ways to get him to stop and go back with me. As we walked, I looked around, more aware of my surroundings than ever. The trees were evenly spaced and grew tall and slender. A warm breeze ruffled their tops. From far away, I could hear the chopping sound. Were they chopping palm kernels? I wondered. And if we could hear them, that meant we weren't far from the jungle's border.

  "I don't know why they don't make us read the field guide in school. Oh yeah, because it's too taboo for our school's curriculum. They say the field guide corrupts children. It's just information, accurate information, unlike some stupid farmers legend."

  "Well, look at what we're doing," I said. By this time, I was so scared that my voice was shaking. "Because of that book, we've lied to our parents and are now on our way to the jungle. I think the school board might be right."

  Dari frowned. "If you don't want to do this, then you can just turn around and go home."

  "If I went home, you'd keep going," I said, whining.

  "Yes, I would," Dari said firmly.

  I stopped walking and stamped my foot in frustration. Always so hardheaded.

  "Well, I can't leave you to go alone, " I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. I couldn't help it. Whenever I felt cornered, I cried.

  "Then don't," he said, continuing on his way without looking back.

  He was my best friend. And best friends always watched each other's backs. If he was going to get eaten by masquerades, then I would, too. I hung my head, re-signed to my fate, my heart twittering in my chest like a caged bird. Oh I hope he knows what he's doing, I thought as I followed him.

  We walked in annoyed silence for a while. An owl hooted from far away and another owl answered. Day owls. I had heard of them but never heard them. They lived on the farms, eating field mice and sunbathing lizards. Unlike all other owls, these were diurnal; they slept at night and were active during the day. They were large birds with small yellow eyes, known to make their nests on the tops of palm trees.

  "Don't you want to see the jungle?" Dari asked after a while.

  "No," I said. "It's d-dangerous. We shouldn't go in there. We shouldn't. I don't know why I'm still here walking with you. You're a lunatic and you're leading me to more lunacy."

  "You sound like a malfunctioning mechanical man," Dari said. "You didn't even think before you spoke."

  I said nothing. I didn't know what to say. I had initially agreed because Dari's excitement was contagious. As I've said before, Dari has a way with words. Maybe a tiny part of me wanted to go so that I could practice without worrying about being seen. Anxiety affected my concentration, and my concentration affected my ability to lift from the ground. And I did want to see for myself, too. But after the warning from the farmers, I just wanted to turn back.

  "Let's turn back," I pleaded. "What if we meet more farmers? They'll surely report us."

  Dari shook his head.

  "That loud noise was calling them back to work, I'll bet," he said. He looked straight ahead and said more to himself than me, "Noon is probably when they take their breaks. I'll remember that."

  "Well, let's turn back anyway," I said. "If they're all back at the farms, then at least we can be sure not to get caught on the way home."

  The farms were ending, and the Greeny Jungle spread before us, turning the open dirt road into a tunnel through dense trees. The trees already looked wild, gnarled, incredibly healthy, and relentless. I saw a glint of something gray and furry near the top of a tree. Then it blinked out of sight. A green bird sew from one of the trees, squawking as it went on its way. Dari shook his head.

  "Come on, Zahrah," he whispered. "Let's just do it. Let's just go in!"

  I let Dari take my hand and we walked into the Forbidden Greeny Jungle.

  Chapter 10

  Borderlands

  "T-t-this must be the border," I said, staring at the ground where the soil turned from dusty red to a deep rich brown, soil that looked like any seed planted in it would grow wild. I held Dari's hand tightly. I was shaking so badly that if I let go, I would have probably fallen over.

  Dari glanced at me with a worried look. He was afraid too, maybe even wondering if it was time to turn back. But instead, he used his other hand to bring out the field guide from his pocket. He flipped the digi-book open, pressed a button, and frowned. He slapped it on the side.

  "This thing is so screwed up," he said. "Sometimes I have to really smack it to get it to work."

  "M-m-m-maybe it's just old," I said.

  "Yeah," he said as he smacked it again and shook it. There was a peeping sound and he smiled. "There. OK, it's working." He pressed a few more buttons. For a moment, he stood reading. Then he looked at the soil and at the book.

  "Hmm," he said, rubbing his chin.

  "What is it?" I whispered. Something made a deep, long cooing sound followed by three hollow-sounding clicks. It came from the tree to my right.

  "In the book it describes the soil as red ... not brown."

  "Well, m-m-maybe it's a trick of the light? Or l-l-lack of. It sure is d-d-dark in there," I whispered.

  Still Dari continued frowning. Then he shrugged.

  "Maybe," he said. He looked at me. "Are you all right?"

  "N-n-no," I said. Who knew what would happen if we stepped over that border onto the brown rich soil. Would the road behind us, the way out, disappear? Or maybe we just wouldn't be able to find it. Or maybe the moment our feet touched that tainted soil, we'd sprout branches and stems and be turned into trees ourselves!

  "Zahrah, stop being so scared and think for a moment," he said. "Let your brain do some work. You were born with dadalocks, something that most people view as an annoying curse. Funny how all things people don't understand seem to be 'cursed.' It's known all over Ooni that those born dada cause things to go wrong. Has this ever happened to you?"

  "No," I said very quietly.

  "And has anyone said anything about being able to fly? Have you, in all your life, ever heard of a Windseeker before we went to the library and came across the name in a fashion magazine?"

  I shook my head.

  "And what about the Dark Market? Has either of us come out of there with some strange magical disease or a curse upon our head? Were we kidnapped? It wasn't what it was rumored to be, was it? We both found that out once we saw it with our own eyes. And what of Nsibidi? She's like you! And now we have this book that tells us so much about the things in this jungle, written by people who went in and spent lots of time in there! Put that against what we've been taught all our lives by people who have never gone near the jungle and by three farmers who may work near it but have also never gone in it. Whom would you believe?"

  "Well ... I..."

  "And this place is the perfect place for you to practice," he continued. He was out of breath with excitement, all signs of fear and apprehension gone. He'd worked up his confidence with his own speech. Convinced himself. And quite frankly, though I was still scared, my knees had stopped shaking. He made a lot of sense. "You want to practice, right?" he said.

  I nodded slowly. I did, sort of. I wanted to explore my ability without the fear of someone seeing me. See what I could do and what I couldn't. Just let it all hang out.

  "Well, let's kill two birds with one stone!"

  I looked at the dark tunnel of trees and hanging vines. The sky was clear and the sun was close to its highest point, yet the jungle of foliage was so thick that most of the sunshine was blocked out. To the left and right of the trail was solid foliage. On both sides, there were several places where tree branches and leaves shook as some creature moved behind them.

  A slight breeze blew, and I felt my feet wanting to leave the ground. I grasped Dari's hand more tightly, a
nd he grinned.

  "Look at you," he said. "You're just as strange and misunderstood as the jungle. It'll welcome you, I'm sure of it."

  And with that, he started walking ... and so did I.

  I remember the exact moment that I stepped over the border. It wasn't as if there were any real feeling of change. The air didn't feel warmer. There was no overpowering smell of evil. And the trees did not crowd behind us to block our exit, as I thought they would. Nothing really happened—nothing outside of myself, at least. Inside me, however, I felt something shift. Something change. At the time it reminded me of what a snake must feel like after it has shed its first skin—wet, new, strong, and vulnerable. Different.

  Dari and I looked behind us at the road and then looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  "I want to make sure," I said.

  So I walked back over the border of the jungle into the sunlight. There was no barrier, no tree or monster to stop me. The sun felt good on my face. Then I stepped over the border again into the darkness of the jungle.

  "See?" Dari said triumphantly. "They were wrong."

  "Maybe," I said. I needed to think about it more.

  We walked slowly down the road, looking around at every sound. We looked around a lot. One thing that did change the moment we entered the Greeny Jungle was the amount of sound. Everything suddenly grew louder. Creatures clicked, chirped, squawked, screeched, howled, grunted, and croaked. The jungle seemed packed with creatures behind every leaf and under and above every branch.

  We stopped and just stood there for a moment.

  "Wow," Dari whispered.

  I whimpered and he looked at me.

  "Zahrah, relax. We're still alive and nothing's tried to—"

  Something dropped on my shoulder. Whatever it was felt cool and wet through the cloth of my dress. And it was still moving.

  My eyes grew wide as I twisted my head to see what it was. I was too horrified to scream. Instead I made a peeping sound and scrambled closer to Dari.

  "G-g-g-get it off me," I whispered, pointing to it. My father had always told me that one should stay calm in terrifying situations and focus on getting out of the situation safely. Only after reaching safety could you scream with panic and shock. My father would have been proud of how I handled the giant slug that had dropped onto my shoulder, even if he'd have been ashamed of where I was. "Get it—"