Hunting Zanga

Chapter 1

Just Imagine...

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The view from the top of the trees was fantastic, really cool! As he flew, curly-haired Thabo could see the dam, the village and his mother and sister. They were walking along the path at the bottom of the hill. He was so high up that they looked like two small beetles moving slowly beneath the sun, and were too far away to wave at. 

Whooosh! Wheee! Thabo was enjoying exercising his muscles. He was now nearly at the top of the tallest tree and loving the feel of the sun’s warmth on his shiny, brown skin. This was totally wild! Thabo thrust his hands forward, picked up speed and arrowed down. Now he was close to the chattering monkeys in the banana field. He pulled faces at them as they tried to steal the bananas.

Thabo suddenly didn’t have wings any more.  He had become one of the monkeys racing away as his Uncle Solomon came running from his house.  Bald-headed Uncle Solomon was waving a knobkierie, his thick stick with a knob at one end, at those who had dared to steal his bananas. 

The monkeys, and that also meant Thabo-monkey, jumped on to the lowest branches of the nearby trees and swung themselves up while chattering all the time. Uncle Solomon charged at the trees, his fat stomach wobbling as he ran.

The monkeys simply leapt higher and began to eat the bananas they had taken while Uncle Solomon shouted, I’ve had enough. I’m going to get my axe to chop down every tree and then I’ll eat you.

Thabo laughed out loud at the scene, thinking it especially funny because he was imagining it. His imagination was always more exciting than anything he ever saw on television or in the movies.  One thing was for sure, when he became a big-time movie director he’d make better movies then most of those he saw in town. Right now, he was actually lying in the late-summer grass beside the dam while playing his favourite game of Just Imagine...

Almost a year ago he had begun to think that human beings weren’t nearly as good as they thought they were. They couldn’t fly like a bird or butterfly, leap like a monkey, breathe under water like a fish or speed over grass like a buck.  If he ever met Nkulunkulu, God, he’d ask him why people hadn’t been given all these abilities. To be able to run as fast as a cheetah and then take off like an eagle would be a really radical thing. Perhaps he’d become a top scientist instead of a movie director and work out how to help people fly without going in an aeroplane. When they invited him to be on TV all over the world because of his discovery, he’d be able to just fly in and land without bothering about a plane. That would be totally cool!

It was actually the beginning of the holidays and Thabo was glad. School had been VERY boring lately.  The only classes he was really enjoying were Arts and Culture. Drama and painting were cool.  Maths sucked and so did the teacher. She was always asking him questions to make him pay attention. The other day she’d shouted at him because he had been unable to answer any. Well of course he couldn’t. He’d been watching a chameleon as it changed from grey to green. He’d sat there imagining himself doing the same. It would be pretty amazing to turn the colour of the classroom wall and sneak up on...

Pay attention, boy, or I will send you to the principal.  Do you want demerits?  It’s time you and some of the others in this class caught a wake-up.

Thabo had begun to really imagine becoming a giant cream-coloured chameleon (the colour of the wall) and, bigger than a lion, creeping slowly, slowly up behind that loud-mouthed Miss Mhlongo who was always fiddling with her fancy hairstyle. The whole class knew she did it so that she could look nice when her boyfriend came to pick her up in his Mercedes after school. How could someone who was only a bank clerk drive a Mercedes? Either Miss Mhlongo’s boyfriend was a car thief or his father was rich. If he knew anything about that too-sharp Miss Mhlongo, her boyfriend was a tsotsi, a thief. There were too many tstotsis around these days.

Yes! It would be an amazing experience to become a chameleon and finish off that cheeky Miss Mhlongo. Thabo-chameleon came closer and closer,  both farseeing eyes fixed on his victim, his tongue ready to shoot out and grab her while the whole class shouted, That’s it, chameleon. She is too bossy and boring. Eat her and her crazy hair-style. Don’t worry about demerits. When you have eaten her she won’t be able to give you any. 

After eating Miss Mhlongo there might even be room for that fool Agrippa in the next door class.  He was always stealing everybody’s fruit juice and tuck shop money. Yes, humans hadn’t been made properly. They should be able to do much more with their minds and bodies. One day he’d be a truly great scientist and be able to turn human beings into people with superpowers. That would be awesome! 

At the moment, unfortunately, he wasn’t changing colours, flying or even swimming under water. He was just a boy imagining things while lying beside a dam on a hot, lazy afternoon. Thabo was about to sit up when he heard music. It was coming from what sounded like a guitar, but it was unlike anything he’d heard before. Instead of sitting up, Thabo lay perfectly still, not wanting the musician to stop playing if he caught sight of him.

The music became louder and faster and a pair of bare feet appeared next to Thabo’s face. He looked up to see a short, thin man with a smiling face looking down at him. Almost-black eyes twinkled in the sun as quick fingers plucked strings pulled tight over half a calabash. A bit afraid, but very curious, Thabo sat up and blinked. Every time the little man’s fingers plucked a string, minute moths, butterflies and dragonflies flew into the air. Here, a cloud of fluttering pink ones; there, one of blue rising into the air and ribboning around the grinning face.

Still playing, still smiling, the little man walked on through the grass, which was taller than him.  Thabo noticed that even though he was able to walk

quickly, he was limping. In seconds, the man was lost amongst the feathery tufts. 

Hey. Wait! Come back. Thabo was no longer afraid. He was on his feet, pushing the grass apart.  But there was just the music and then that, too, was

almost gone, fading away through the grass and thorn trees. He had imagined it. No he hadn’t. Yes he had!  This imaging business was really getting out of hand. Perhaps he should stop before he went mad. Then a dreadful thought struck him. Maybe he was mad. No, he had seen the little man and his calabash instrument. He’d also heard the music. But what about all those tiny, winged creatures? Perhaps he was going soft in the head, or had Agrippa asked someone to put a spell on him so that he would just hand over his fruit juice and pocket money without fighting? 

Thabo strained hard to hear the music again, but no cheerful notes came to him. With his eyes wide and looking back only once, Thabo ran towards the village of neat little, white-washed houses and his home amongst them.

Chapter 2

Music at Midnight

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Thabo helped himself to orange juice and sat down to drink it at the kitchen table. Had he really seen a little man playing a strange calabash near the dam? Had insects been flying from it? He was going crazy. Perhaps if he skateboarded for a while he would forget about the whole strange business. He took his skateboard from under his bed and was soon doing flick-flacks and wheelies around the courtyard. Because no one was at home, he was able to do one of his favourite tricks. He set a low bench in the middle of the courtyard and skated towards it. As the skateboard neared the bench, Thabo jumped from it and over the bench just in time to land on the board as it appeared from underneath the bench. 

But even while skateboarding, he couldn’t forget about what he’d seen and heard at the dam. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about it. They’d think he was crazy. After all, he’d never heard of anyone else seeing a man playing a calabash instrument while tiny insects flew out with the music. 

Aagh! Thabo cried out as he landed heavily.  His shin began throbbing and it took five minutes of rubbing before the pain started to go away.  His mother would have been out of the kitchen to shout at him if she’d seen. It didn’t mean he wasn’t a good skateboarder and couldn’t try again. He just hadn’t been concentrating as he’d been too busy thinking about the limping man and the music.

Later that night Thabo lay in his bed, unable to sleep. He knew his parents were sound asleep in their room and his sister, Lindiwe, was asleep in her room next door. Thabo closed his eyes and lay on his back. That didn’t work. He lay on his stomach, but he couldn’t breathe properly. Next he lay on his left side, then his right. Nothing helped. Over and over he thought of the little man and the calabash. 

Maybe if he drank some warm milk he would get some peace. He was just about to get up when a breeze blew the curtains apart and it brought with it music very like that he’d heard beside the dam.  His heart starting to beat faster, his body tense, Thabo looked out through the open window.  There, across the courtyard between the sleeping houses, was an old, old lady with hair that was white, and so fine