Shaba’s eyes rounded in horror and he clasped his hand over his mouth to keep
from vomiting, or worse yet screaming. He couldn’t keep from staring at the
charred bones in the pit of ashes. At first he was totally frozen to the spot
then completely involuntarily his foot nudged at the bones.
Yes, it was a
skull, a tiny human skull. He knew it was, had known it would be. A shadow felt
across the pit, a huge black shape holding a machete. Before he had a chance to
flee or even scream he was yanked by his hair and dangling a foot above the
ground.
“Ha! I
knew your curiosity would get the better of you sooner or later! Yup, that’s
your kid sister alright. Made a mighty good sacrifice, she did, but not as good
a one as you would have.”
Shaba
wanted to wriggle free but was too terrified. The monster-like
man whipped the machete within a hairbreadth of his neck then slowly pressed it
closer, drawing blood.
A small
crowd was gathering around, some cheering him on.
“What
do you think guys? Should we take this one?”
“Nah,”
one of his companions drawled. “He’s too skinny. One brute a night is plenty or
it will get too common.”
Faintly
over the breeze they hear someone with a strong voice speaking. Shaba saw the crowds’ attention shift from him
to the distance preacher. Mobid’s grip slackened and Shaba fought desperately
to get away.
“Hey, I
didn’t say you could go!” But Shaba had vanished, a ripped piece of his tunic
dangling from Mobid's hand. Mobid lunged after him but he didn’t have a
chance. Shaba was fleeing for his life.
“You
okay, Shaba?” The small boy shrank back in terror into the dark recesses of his
thatched roof hut. He was pretty sure who was looking in on him but wasn’t
about to let his presence be known. Not yet.
“C’mon
Shaba, you’ve been hiding here most of yesterday and all night. Mobid and his
gang are picking on other prey. Let’s go find out what Preacher Noah is talking
about. It’s pretty safe if we get up close to the ramp.”
Shaba
knew that was true. People hurled insults or even rocks from a distance at the
old man but they seemed afraid to do it within twenty feet of him. Did they
think he would strike them dead or something? It took a long time for Raibo to
convince him to come out, and when he did it was only because Raibo had slashed
open a pineapple and coaxed him to come out and help him eat it.
The
boys slipped stealthily through the lush, over-grown jungle, ever keeping a
wary eye open for vicious animals and even worse humans.
Raibo
pushed his way through the restless, scoffing multitude hanging around the ark
that was being built, with Shaba at his heels.
Shaba
felt his tension slowly ease away when he gazed into Noah’s kind, gentle eyes.
Most of
his sermon was hard to understand but he knew that Noah was pleading with the
people to repent of their wicked ways. Shaba knew what wicked meant. He saw it
every day. Every day someone was being abused. He didn’t know the words to
describe what was happening mainly to little kids like himself and Raibo, but
he knew it was evil, very evil, and terror haunted him wherever he went. He
looked longingly at Noah and his wife, his three sons and their spouses and
knew with a certainty that they never ever had treated each other in the way
that every kid and women in his village were molested.
Noah
was begging them to find safety in the Ark because a flood was coming to drown
all the bad people. Shaba didn’t need anyone to tell him what a flood was. He
would never forget how some older boys had thrown him over a small waterfall
and he had thrashed and screamed his way to shore. How he had survived he would
never, ever know.
“Shaba!”
The barked command made Shaba’s knees buckle. Was it Mobid? No, but it was just
as bad.
to be continued...
.bmp)
