Browse our categories:
Adventure
Collections
Contemporary
Literature
Crime
Fantasy
Gay
& Lesbian
Historical
Horror
Humour
Medical
Mystery
Paranormal
Psychological
Thriller
Romance
Science
Fiction
Thrillers
War
Young
Adult
Non
Fiction
Poetry
- sole authored collections
Poetry
- multi authored collections
ALLAKAZZAM!
by
Daniel Abelman
© Catherine
Edmunds 2008
Chapter One
"Ngubani igama
lakho Sissie? What is your name sister?"
"No More Daughters, my chief."
"What number were you, sister?"
"Four, my chief."
"And did the magic work? Who was the witch
doctor?"
"Yes, my chief, it worked well. UmZealie
was his name."
"Huaw! Old Four Legs is still alive. So
you come from the place where the five cows died, my sister?"
"Yes, my chief. I was born the year the
rains came twice."
"Your Aunty Zena was my wet nurse."
She realized who I was.
"I see you, my brother HardSucker."
"I see you, my sister No More Daughters."
"Aunty Zena got me this job. She used to
work here; before the Old Madam died."
"What are these papers you carry, my sister?"
"A boy that looked like a man brought them,
my brother."
"What did he say?"
"He said he was Tokoloshie, the son of Tokolosh,
and if I did not give the Master these papers he would come back again,
riding a hyena."
"How did he come this time?"
"He drove a car."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I gave him a bonsella one-bob and told
him to hamba."
"And you gave it to the Master?"
"The Master came home and asked for some
papers, so I gave them to him."
"You did well, my sister. Do not tell anyone
about this."
"No, my brother. I am like the baboon who
can only count to three."
"I will come on
Sunday, when the Madam is out, and you can make some samp with beans for
me in the pressure cooker."
"I see you my brother HardSucker."
"I see you my sister No More Daughters."
She curtsied vaguely and scurried out of the
room.
Freddy broke the astounded silence evoked by
a white man conversing in Xhosa.
"I see you speak in tongue, old boy. But
what did she say?"
"Absolutely nothing. She knows nothing at
all."
"But she said 'yes' when I asked her if
she had any idea where the manuscript came from," interjected Madam,
the hostess of this unexpectedly engaging soirée.
I repressed a long sigh. "Your maid comes
from a good family and is extremely well mannered. She would never be
so impolite as to answer 'no' to your question, especially in front of
all these people. If you asked her whether she could walk a tightrope,
she would've answered 'yes, Madam'."
I turned to Freddy. "What she did tell me,
though, was that you and I are brothers of sorts. It turns out the woman
responsible for your personal hygiene was the same woman who taught me
the Xhosa language. I was brought up on a farm and Aunty Zena was
more than a mother to me."
Madam erupted a jubilant shriek. "Then we're
family! Maybe I've inherited psychic powers from the same place you got
them. I wondered where I got my clairvoyant gift …"
"What are we going to do?" bulldozed
Stephen.
You didn't have to be psychic to guess Freddy
was going to suggest they ask a psychic. But Madam jumped the gun by proposing
that I be the one to track down the missing parts of the manuscript.
The Master and Stephen wearily agreed to fit
the bill if I could prove I actually possessed some psychic aptitude.
So, right then and there, I converted Freddy from a skeptic into a believer
by reading his very mind. Proof enough.
Armed with a fax copy of the manuscript, together
with an appointment to discuss terms at Master's publishing company with
Master and Stephen, I took my leave of them.
"'Bye, all. I see you, my brother Freddy."
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
The rights of Daniel Abelman to be identified as the author has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and patents act 1988
All electronic books
supplied in Adobeď™Acrobat™format.
Refunds will be given at the discretion of the Company Management.
Copyright © 2002 BeWrite Books. All rights reserved.
Comments to: The BeWrite.net team