I was starting to attract a lot of attention. When an unknown teenage girl is seen running wildly through the Kayole Soweto slums, it’s bound to turn a few heads. If her clothes also happen to be generously covered in mud and water then people may start murmuring and curious children might even start to follow. So there I was running as fast as I could, ducking in and out of narrow alleyways. A small gang of children followed, eager to see where I was going. All in all, it was not very inconspicuous for someone trying to avoid the attentions of certain people. But, I couldn’t afford to worry about that, I had a dog to find.
If your mission is to find a dog, not a specific one, but any dog, you’d think that the slums would make a pretty good hunting ground. How long would it really take to stumble upon a stray dog there? Apparently, the answer is a really long time. It was almost like they were intentionally avoiding me. Like they knew they were being looked for and had chosen to make a secret and immediate migration elsewhere. Those literal sons of bitches.
I made another sharp turn between two beaten down apartment buildings straight into a muddy patch and almost fell again. I slid forward waving my arms wildly but managed to catch myself at the very last second and keep running. The children laughed behind me but I ignored them. There was no time to slow down. No time to be careful. I had to find a stupid dog before one of my parents found me. With the trail of surprised people I was leaving and the children insistently following and screaming, finding me was becoming easier and easier with every passing second. Time was running out.
My parents and I had a complicated relationship. It’s not just that I was running through a slum trying to find a dog as I avoided them. That was weird but it could have been that we were just weird people. Lord knows that’s true enough. It wasn’t even that I hadn’t seen either of them in years before they both showed up in entirely separate encounters that morning. It was the fact that if I did not find that dog, they would kill me. How’s that for a family reunion.
Actually, they would try to kill me regardless of whether I found it or not but the dog was my way to get out of this alive. It was my salvation ticket. Unless it turned out that my parents had set aside their differences and were working together towards the noble goal of killing me. Then I would be screwed. Utterly and royally screwed. But that wasn’t going to happen. Hate is, thankfully, more reliable than love. You can guess what two people who really hate each other will and won’t do with a lot more certainty than you can for most other things. So, knowing that I may be the first person to have said this and actually meant it, thank God my parents hate each other so much.
I took another turn and saw something moving in the distance next to a large trash pile. Was that…maybe…it could be. I needed a better look. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated until something in my mind clicked into place. My irises turned a vibrant yellow which bled into my eyeballs pushing back the white as my pupils dilated. Everything came into sharp focus almost seeming to move closer and the figure in the distance was instantly visible. It was a dog! Finally, I’d found one. I slowed down to a less reckless speed and let my vision revert back to normal. Those eyes were turning out to be worth every bit of trouble it had taken to get them. I was sure a blind hawk somewhere missed them dearly.
The dog was digging through the trash looking for something to eat. It was used to commotion around it so it did not turn my way until I was almost on top of it. With a yelp, it scrambled to make an escape but it was too late. It had underestimated the power of a girl with little, if any, dignity left to spare. I lunged forward and wrapped my hands around it’s neck restraining it. This, admittedly, was not the smartest move. While I did catch it I also landed painfully on my hip and the beast, frightened out of its mind, bit deeply into my arm. It took all I had to brave the pain and not let it go.
I landed a few strikes to the side of its head and managed to wrestle it off without it taking a sizeable chunk out of my flesh. It resisted but it was a malnourished little thing and with a few manoeuvres I had pinned it to the ground. Take that. I would have felt (more) proud of my mutt wrestling skills if I hadn’t had an audience of young children watching me with fascination. This was not the kind of achievement you wanted publicized. From where they were standing, I was a crazy, dirty, dog attacking girl. Actually, thinking about it, that’s exactly what I was regardless of where you were standing. Oh well.
“Nelima,” said a voice, “what are you doing now?”
Not yet. I wasn’t ready. I had the dog but I wasn’t in a position to actually do anything and my mother had already found me. Just great. This was turning out to be the hell of a day. I started thinking up a way to distract her. Mostly for self preservation but if I’m being entirely honest there was more to it. I had to distract her enough for me to at least move a little bit. If I had to die then so be it but not like this. I would not die in such a humiliating position. I doubt anyone writing my obituary would be able to resist taking the “she died choke holding a stray dog” angle. And that was if this incident didn’t make it onto the news. No. No no no.
I turned to look at her without letting go of the dog.I still needed it. She was standing some distance away near a small corrugated iron shack with her arms crossed. Now that I had a better look at her than I’d got that morning, I realized how little had changed about her. She looked just like she had about two years before. Prim, upright and with an air of authority. She was 52 but she looked 30 at the very most. Unfortunately, this was not caused by any good genes that I could inherit. She had cheated and used witchcraft. Oh, had I mentioned that she was a witch doctor? My mother’s a witch doctor and a particularly powerful and nasty one at that. Hence, why immediate (embarrassingly poised) death was very high on the list of things that could have happened next.
The thing you may have noticed about witchdoctors is that they’re not usually very successful. I mean, they promise to make you rich, loved, virile, beautiful etcetera but they rarely ever are any of those things are they? The reason for that is pretty simple. It’s a dangerous thing to do. Witchcraft in general is a dangerous field. When one of them sells you any of those things, they slyly put all the danger on you and settle for having your money instead. They have power but they largely use it to grant other people their desires. It’s safer that way. My mother was one of those rare witch doctors willing to take on all those risks for what she wanted. This was actually the root of why she needed me to die and, when it came down to it, why I even existed.
“Hiyo mbwa itakusaidia aje sasa?” she said eyeing the dog scornfully. How can that dog possibly help you?
“Mummy,” I said cheerily, “what a surprise to see you here.”
“Unafanya nini?” What are you doing?
“That’s it? No ‘hello’ even? No ‘how’ve you been all these years’ maybe? A ‘happy birthday’ at the very least. You owe me that much.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time. What are you doing?”
“Well, what does it look like I’m doing?” I said, my hand running through the dog’s sparse fur rapidly searching, “I’m petting this poor thing.”
“Nelima usiniletee hii ujinga yako leo. I don’t have the patience for it.”
“You see mama? When you’re always like this how can you be surprised when I find solace in the love of an animal?”
“Even now you’re…heeeee. You don’t love your life.”
“Now what would make you say a thing like that…”
“Ama unadhani sitakuua? Be sure, I will kill you if you test me. I am curious about your abilities but not so curious that I will not purge you…demon spawn.”
Demon spawn. She said it with an air of such disgust that I couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was not an insult exactly. She certainly meant it as one but it was more or less accurate. My father was in fact a demon so there wasn’t much room for debate there. But if you thought about it, while this was unfortunate, it had nothing to do with me. I hadn’t done anything. This was largely her doing. I was not the one who had consummated a deal with an evil supernatural spirit and got knocked up in the process. If she hated demon spawn so much she should have been more careful. It’s not like my father was going to be the responsible one, he was from hell for Christ’s sakes. Then again, I don’t suppose there was much of an industry for protection when it came to that kind of thing. And … Urgh. I have clearly put far too much thought into my parents’ sex lives. Moving on.
Just then, I found it. I felt the tell-tale tiny little lump in the dog’s fur. It must have shown on my face for my mother shifted slightly and lifted her hand. There was no visible sign of it but I could feel that something had changed. An evil vibration humming in the air. She had a curse ready. It was almost time to go.
“What have you taken?” She asked cautiously.
“Why are you so worried? You think I’ll give you rabies or something?”
“Nimekuambia nini juu ya hii ujinga yako?” What did I just tell you about this foolishness?
“I don’t know why you keep expecting me to listen. You’re a witch and my father is a demon. An obedient, respectful child was never really an option was it?”
“It’s a better option than dead.”
“We both know you’re going to kill me eventually no matter what I do.”
“I still see teeth,” she ignored me, observing the dog instead, “and I don’t see it panicking, so you can’t have picked anything too serious. What did you take?”
“I took nothing from the dog.”
“If the next words from your mouth are not an explanation, I will kill you right here, right now and I will do it as painfully as possible. Tell me. What do dogs have that would interest you…what do you have stored away in that elephant memory of yours that I don’t know?”
Elephant memory was actually not a metaphor. It was exactly what it was. Being a child with such interesting parentage did come with some advantages. Namely, I could pick up traits from animals. Steal would probably be a better term since the animal didn’t get to keep them once I did it. Point being, I could collect and keep up to four animal traits at a time provided I could get access to them and had a rough estimation of the body part they were tied to. So, no flying, I don’t have wings or anything like them. I have eyes though, so something like say hawk vision was an option. But of all the traits I’d ever picked my favourite had always been the memory of an elephant. It gave me near perfect memory and recollection. I was practically a walking encyclopedia. The only drawback was that I still felt rather guilty about taking it. I had left that elephant without the ability to remember anything. Is that worse than taking its tusks? Probably.
“So you’re not going to answer me?” she said disappointed and aimed her hand at me. I could feel what was basically magical heat emanating from the curse she was holding.
“What do stray dogs have,” I said quickly buying some time.
“What?”
“Stray dogs, what can you count on them always having?”
“I’m not here for your question games. Speak and do it clearly.”
“Fleas!” I said enthusiastically, “Stray dogs always have fleas.”
“Fleas?”
“Yes, Fleas. Little insignificant fleas. Fleas that somehow make it all the way up onto dogs like this. Have you ever wondered how?”
My mother eyed me puzzling it out, and in that delicious moment of confusion I saw my opportunity. Something clicked in my mind and I was ready. Already, the window was closing. I could see realization sweeping across her features. Her fingers were beginning to draw back into a claw like shape. Everything happened very quickly. She threw the curse and a loud hiss sounded off as it landed killing the dog. I was already gone.
I was in the air maybe 100 meters high and moving forward alarmingly fast. God damn. Go flea jumping. Thank you dead flea. I realized this was pretty much as close as I would ever get to flying. It was good enough. I landed easily a good distance away behind some buildings. As I stood, the extra pair of backward facing knees I’d grown folded away into my calves and there was no more trace of them. I was almost used to that kind of thing by now. Almost. Apparently, magic could only take you so far. There were always few side effects like that whenever I used a physical trait. Four knees was a new one though. The image of my flying jump looked significantly less cool with that little addition.
It had worked though. I was free and running was going to be fairly easy now. Skilled as she was I doubt there was anything in her usual witchcraft that had trained my mother to throw curses accurately over great distances. There was no chance that anything would hit even if she caught up to me. Defeated by the power of a flea. I wondered how her ego was taking that. I would have paid good money to see the look on her face right about then. But, better safe than sorry. It was time to get the hell out of there.
I was about to launch away when I heard a scream. A high pitched scream. The unmistakable scream of a child.The children! With all the distractions I had forgotten about them. They must have been watching from a distance when the grown up had appeared. They would have seen no reason to run too far away for they hadn’t known what was going on. I knew I needed to leave if I wanted to stay alive, it was just too dangerous to return. After all, she wouldn’t really hurt them just to spite me, would she? Was she that heartless? The easy answer was yes. Of course she was. And just like that. I had to go back. Damn.
I landed to an unsettling scene. Most of the children were lying on the ground near the dog’s carcass either unconscious or dead. I hoped it was not the latter. The only one of them standing was next to my mother and her hand was around his throat. She was not choking him, her grip was too slack for that, but she was clearly doing something for the boy was screaming. I assumed she had made it so that I was the only one who could hear him as no one else seemed drawn to the scene by his cries.
“So you did return,” her lips twitched up in a victorious grin, “you were always very foolish.”
“Let him go,” I said my voice harder than I had expected.
The boy’s screams stopped but she did not let him go. She pulled him closer and beckoned to me with one hand. I didn’t move.
“Come Nelima. Come au nitamuua” Come or I will kill him.
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh?”
“If you kill him, then why would I do what you say? You need him alive if you want me to obey you.”
“I will kill him. Na ukikataa bado kuna wengine.” And if you refuse there are still others “How many little bodies can your conscience support before you crumble?”
“The others are alive?” I asked hope springing within me.
“Ehhh,” she said impatiently, “I do not kill without reason. Do not give me one. Kuja!”
Without a word, I started walking towards her. This was not the time to be obstinate. That child’s life was not mine to play with. Still, my mind was racing with possibilities. How was I going to get out of this. Escaping by itself was not difficult. I could jump away any time I wanted but I could not take the children with me. Even if I found a way she would acquire new hostages with ease. This was impossible. She had me and she knew it. It was over.
“If I even think you’re using your powers,” she said quietly, “he’s dead. Usijaribu kujifanya mjanja.” Do not try anything clever.
I nodded my understanding but I still walked slower as I got towards her. I needed more time to think. Surely there must have been something. Anything. There had to be a way but if there was one, I could not see it.
“Stop,” she cautioned, “Walk slowly. Keep your hands up. Do not make any sudden movements. I have a curse primed at the boy. When I have you, I will let him go. Do not make this difficult.”
I obeyed. I moved as slowly and as non-threateningly as I could with my hands clearly visible. Wasn’t much I could do with them anyway. If It came to a physical fight I was no match for her. If I kicked her while using the flea trait, would the kick be stronger? Was force the trick behind the high jumps? I had no idea. It was too risky anyway. Even if I got the kick off before something happened, already unlikely, there was no certainty that it would work. And if it did, and then what? If she was still conscious after it hit then she would kill me.
When I was within her reach her fingers pushed forward heading for my neck and I let her wrap them around it. Something invisible crawled over my skin and I knew without even trying to that I could no longer move. She was smiling very widely now. I had never seen her look that happy. Or that ominous. Would she kill me? Would she experiment on me first? I didn’t want to think about it.
“Let the boy go!” I managed to say.
She laughed as if I had said something absurd but she did it. She let the boy fall to the ground where he curled into a little heap. He didn’t move any further but I could see that he was breathing. Well, that was a small victory at least. Dying for his life was infinitely better than living with his death. There were worse way to go. I was done for. Unless…
“I hate you,” I spat.
“Yes, yes. You’re a hateful little girl. It’s very sad.”
“No, you know what’s truly sad about this?”
“Nini?”
“I really, really liked having elephant memory.”
“Eh?”
That syllable extended into a long staggering cry as she started convulsing and her hand slipped away from my neck. She shook violently for several seconds before suddenly freezing in place. With a small pained wail, she fell to the ground and stared blankly at it.
Breathing in deeply, I rubbed around my throat as sensation returned to it. Thank God that worked. That plan had been a long shot. In that last moment it had occurred to me that there was no reason that a trait had to be stolen using my hands. I had always done it that way but maybe all I had ever needed was just direct contact. That had been the more certain gamble I had made. The tricky part was that I had never taken something from a human before. I hadn’t known if I even could. The idea had obviously crossed my mind before but there was really nothing any human had that was worth taking. At least, nothing that would not have presented a severe moral dilemma. This perhaps had not been the best time to start testing new abilities but, what do you know, it had all worked out.
On the bad news side of things, my precious elephant memory had sadly been replaced with plain old human memory. I switched between my actual memory and the one I’d stolen from my mother, testing it out, and felt no real difference. If anything hers was slightly worse than my own. Damn. Finding another elephant was really going to be a pain. I didn’t even want to think of all the things I had by now no doubt forgot. The sudden lack of clarity in my mind was already staggering. I cycled through my abilities. Flea, hawk, cat and human giving it all a little test run. That new last trait was really a bummer. It even felt unremarkable.
As for my mother, she was done for. She no longer had any place to store even the smallest thought. Her existence was now entirely as a creature of the moment living from second to second. Constantly almost realizing what had happened only to be unable to remember it. A thought loop. Starting, deleting and starting all over again. Her own mental hell. Good. She deserved it.
I dropped to my knees to check on the boy.
“Are you okay?” I prodded him.
Nothing.
“Uko sawa?” I shook him.
Nothing.
“Come on. Don’t be dead.”
I rolled him over. His eyes were a milky white like there was a thin film of something over them.
“No. No, You can’t be dead. You can’t be. Please. Please don’t be dead.”
“What’s wrong with dead?” he said in a very un-childlike voice.
I jumped back ready to flee. The boy was smiling and staring at me with those unnerving eyes. What the hell did you do mum? I contained my panic and stopped myself from jumping out of the area. I didn’t know if this boy could still be helped but there were other children there. They might have needed my help. I couldn’t abandon them. I had to…then I realized what was going on.
“Oh,” I said, “hello dad.”
“You look pale,” my father said through the boy, “What? Did you see a demon or something?”
“Oh my God, stop it. You’re not funny dad. You’ve never been funny. Give it up.”
“Really?” he said with mock indignation, “that one usually…KILLS!”
He burst out laughing which made the whole thing even more surreal. He was still on the ground and only his mouth and neck were moving. You really don’t want to see a young boy moving so unnaturally and laughing like a demon. It’s disconcerting to say the least. Especially if that demon possessing him is your father and he’s laughing at his own incredibly stupid jokes. It doesn’t help if he’s there to kill you either.
“What did you do to her?” he asked finally calming down and sitting up, “why is she so…blank.”
“I uh…I stole her memory. She can’t remember things or make any new memories.”
“Oooh. That’s cold Nelima. You could have just killed her. More merciful. She is your mother.”
“Easier said than done.”
“True. True. She was a tough old witch that one. They don’t really make them like that anymore. I might even miss her.”
“Right.”
“Why was she trying to do you in anyway?”
“I don’t know if you know this but… I’m half demon.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yup. And apparently that means that my soul is worth something to some nether creature or whatever. She’s been itching to sell it for a while now but she didn’t get serious until the very second I turned 18. That was important for some reason.”
“Hmmm, 18. Yes. 6 plus 6 plus 6. Very important.”
“That’s it? Really?”
“No. Of course not. Don’t be silly.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible?”
“Happy birthday by the way.”
“Yeah, what a happy one. I just fried my mother’s brain and my father is possessing a child and planning to kill me. Yay me.”
“My how you kids party nowadays.”
“Wait…are you still trying to kill me?”
“Hm? What would makes you think I’ve stopped?”
“Well…you weren’t exactly this chatty in the morning when you suddenly tried to burn me alive! Remember that?”
“Oh, That. It was a bit more urgent then. I sensed magic around you and I knew someone was trying to find you. Didn’t know it was your mother though, so I thought I had to kill you before they caught you.”
“You sensed magic around me?”
“What? You thought I just let you walk around without taking measures? You’re my daughter. You’re made up of part of my substance. You get yourself in the wrong hands and you’re a weapon against me.”
“Your concern for my well being touches me.”
“ I don’t know why you’re complaining. As far as spirits go, I’m a pretty good parent. Did you know the big man upstairs had his kid crucified? Crucified! All things considered, you’re lucky to have me.”
“Why not just kill me then? Why let me go walking about in the first place.”
“Kill you? Just like that? My own daughter? I’m not a monster.”
“You literally are.”
“Not a monster, a demon. Big difference…” he grinned, showing that he had given the boy a row of sharp teeth, “we’re worse.”
“So why not kill me?”
“Have you met your mother? What do you think she would have done if I killed you? It really wasn’t worth the trouble. Especially when I thought she would, by and large, keep you away from anyone else. Didn’t know she was planning to sell you. That scheming witch. I should have guessed.”
“Well, that’s it then.”
“That’s what?”
“Mom’s dead… or close enough anyway. So you can leave me alone. You can be sure I will not deliver myself into any wrong hands. I’ll just keep out of sight so you can go about doing whatever it is your kind do.”
“Ah….no.”
“No?”
“If she was trying to barter your soul…then she had a buyer. Someone else knows about you. That’s bad. You must see that.”
“Oh come on.”
“I’m sorry but this is how it has to be.”
“Is this the point you tell me that this isn’t personal?”
“Oh it is personal. It’s very personal. You’re part of me. You’re a part of my person. That’s as personal as it gets.”
“You…”
“Don’t try to run. I sense you using magic. I saw you near tears when you thought this boy was dead. What do you think happens to him if you run?”
Just great. I had scored a giant victory yet absolutely nothing had changed. I was still facing death and the boy was still a hostage. My short experience of adulthood was telling me that it sucked. Big time! On the bright side, at least it was going to be short lived. Adulthood bright sides were astonishingly grim.
Almost by instinct, black fur started growing from my wrists down to my fingers which sprouted claws. Pads covered my palms and my hands elongated and thinned out until they were large cat’s paws. My father laughed.
“That’s really not going to work this time. Or do you plan to hurt the boy to get to me?”
“I might.”
“No. We both know you won’t. Now keep those nasty cat appendages to yourself.”
I wasn’t going to attack but I felt better having the paws out. It was strangely comforting. The memory of chasing him away that morning was still fresh in my mind. Cats have always been good at attacking demons. For millennia they had been one of the few non-magic ways there was to repel a spirit. Well, maybe cats actually were magic when you think about it. No unremarkable animal could be that cocky for no reason.
This ability of theirs was why witches all over the world kept them. It was why the ancient Egyptians had been so eager to have them around and made sure they stayed happy. A nation full of cats in every position of power was a nation demons largely avoided. It was also why demons had been very eager to spread rumours all over their strongholds in Kenya that cats were demonic. It was in their best interests to have cats avoided.
The cat’s paws were my oldest trait. When I had first discovered my power, largely by accident, a cat had been the only animal at hand. I had changed what other traits I used over and over but this was the one I had never replaced. First out of sentiment and later because I learned what cats were good for in the supernatural realm. When you live in a witch doctor’s house you encounter demons quite a bit. As you might imagine, they’re not very nice even when they’re not trying to kill you. Cat’s paws come in very handy when you can’t find your actual cat (which is always when you need it).
Unfortunately, they were more than useless to me just then. I needed to attack him head on if there was to be any effect and the boy was there to make sure that course of action wasn’t available. I could hurt my father but not without hurting the boy too. Sentiment was really the hell of a weakness. Where had I even got it from. Certainly not from my parent-folk.
“So,” he said, getting to his feet without all the physical actions usually required, “shall we get this over with then.”
I lifted my paws letting the claws show but he just chuckled. I supposed I deserved it. When the claws were a risk, it had been one thing. Now, I was just a beaten down girl with a cat’s paws for hands. Even I had to admit that I must have looked rather foolish. I turned to my mother who was seated quietly still staring off into space.
“Well mum. Any help to offer?” I said, “No? Nothing?”
She, obviously, did not answer.
“I’m going to give you a chance to come up with better last words than that,” he said sounding very pleased with himself.
“Oh!”
“That’s really not much better.”
“This,” I said thinking looking at my mother, “was so obvious that I can’t believe I just now thought of it.”
“What…”
I didn’t wait to hear what he said next. I rushed to my mother and shoved her forward between us like a shield. She jerked away from me slightly but she settled down after that. I must have scratched her just then. Oops.
“What do you think you’re doing? Don’t prolong this.”
“You said you didn’t kill me because of her. That tells me you can’t hurt her. You never could or else you already would have.”
“So what? She’s dead.”
“No. She’s not. She just has no memory.”
“Same difference. What is she going to do now?”
“Nothing. She doesn’t have to. Whatever she did to protect herself against you or any demon would never have been something she would have to think about. It would just work. Whether she was conscious or not!”
“Hmmm. This is not as clever as you seem to think it is,” he stepped forward, “You’re just going to hide behind her? Is that really your plan? Hiding behind your mummy?”
“No!”
I pushed her as hard as I could into the possessed boy who was now standing right in front of her. Almost immediately, there was a disembodied cry of alarm and the boy fell to the ground with a great deal of force taking my mother down with him. My father on the other hand was now exposed. He looked like the wavering hot air that hovered above fires in humanoid form. He was twisting about clearly injured in some way.
Click. Click.
I jumped forward right at him. If I was visible I doubt I looked very human. My legs were bent in that curious shape that four knees bestowed upon them and I had two cat’s paws held out in front of me. But if anyone had been watching they wouldn’t have seen me as anything more than a blur. My father didn’t even have time to look and see what I was doing before I hit him and drove my claws in an X shape right through him. It was like water parting as my claws trailed through his substance. They were deep cuts. I hopped back.
That was when he started screaming.
Shallow cracks spread through stone buildings and iron sheets dented in the shacks. The ground shook and small pebbles started to roll away from the area. The wavering form that was my father seemed to be evaporating and his booming scream went higher and higher in pitch until it sounded like a helium leak.
“You….stupid….girl.” he said. The last word barely a squeak. And just like that, he was gone.
“Nice last words,” I managed to say after recovering from the shock. It was really too late for a come back and that was a poor one at best but hey, he was dead. I won by default.
I looked around. The boy was awake now, truly awake. He was in terrible shape and my mother was on top of him but he was alive. The others were too. By the looks on their faces, they’d been conscious for a while now. They’d just been keeping their heads down. Clever kids. There was no one in danger now, except the girl with 4 knees and cat’s paws when the crowds arrived. Now that there was no more magic to keep people from noticing this, it was probably time to finally make my exit. I leaped away giving that group of children one more sight to add to the list of things that would traumatize them for life.
I’m free. For once in my life, I’m free. No constraints bind me and would you believe it, I have no idea what to do with myself. How anticlimactic is that? All I know is that there’s an elephant that needs to be found. Human memory is really just too flimsy. I’ll look for an old one this time. One that’s not really using it any more.
Beyond that, I don’t know. I’m thinking it’s time to finally give up the cat’s paws. They won’t do me too much good now. I need something new. Something exotic. Starfish can regrow entire limbs you know. Though…I have no idea how I would even test if that worked, so maybe not. Clown fish can change gender. Then again, if it worked I might just turn into a male fish. That would be unfortunate. Especially if I just forgot who I was and got stuck like that. So no.
Hey, I heard that some shrimp can see more colours than we do. How cool is that? I want to see new colours. And eels can shoot electricity. And octopuses can…ok, I think I lost all my non-marine animal knowledge with the elephant memory. Damn. Oh well. Elephants and then I can hit the coast. New colours, electricity blasting and all the wonder of marine animals, here I come. And, if I don’t find anything exotic… I can always be a mermaid.
Kevin Rigathi
Kevin Rigathi runs an ICT solutions and investment consultancy based in Kenya. Over the years, a near addiction for creating things has seen him don multiple hats as a writer, digital artist, software developer, sound editor and podcaster. His stories include ‘Where The Gods Go" and ‘A War of Harmony.’ Additionally, he serves as the writer and host of the Kenyan history podcast, "The Kenyan Experiment."