Liberian Literary Magazine Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
Liberian Classic
Murder in the Cassava Patch II
Bai. T Moore
Early that evening, we were in the presence of the celebrated sand reader. Bleng was every bit the description Buu had given me of him; a short, stocky, bowlegged gentleman, with large bulging eyes planted proportionately between two huge curved ears. On one of the lobes hung a tiny brass earing. Around his neck hung a heavy necklace strung with assorted objects, including barracuda teeth, seashells, tiny copper spears and antelope horns. These adornments enhanced the sand reader ' s appearance.
“ What wind blows my friend Buu to my humble abode this time of the evening?” The doctor man asked, waving us into two low stools in his crowded hut.
“ First, I want you to meet Gortokai, a friend of mine.“
“ And where do you come from?” Bleng cast his eyes on me.
“ From Bendabli, on the Bomi Hills Road,” Buu replied.
“ It ' s been a long time since I was last in those parts.
What ' s happening there?” He spoke slowly.
I am sure this question was intended for me, so I answered,“ nothing of any significance that is, up to the time I left there a few weeks ago.”
“ Now, what is your mission gentlemen, may I ask?”“ The palava reach to you.” Buu pointed to me.
“ Go ahead and break word. You brought me here.” I told my friend.
“ All right,” Buu agreed.“ Bleng,” he began,“ my friend comes to you with a strong palava which catches his heart. He got his heart set on a woman and wants to have you look into it for him.”
“ Someone he wants to marry, I suppose?”“ Yes.” Buu nodded. The old man set for a few minutes looking into space.“ What is the name of the girl?” He inquired.“ Tene,” said we in unison. Bleng reached for something under his bed. It was a rolled up mat with a bag inside. He spread the mat before us and pressed the small bag against his forehead.“ Gortokai,” the sand reader called,“ touch this three times, and call the name of the girl three times to yourself.
Confide anything you wish, to the bag.” I did so.
Bleng placed the bag on the mat and began to unfasten it. I had my eyes glued on every movement he made. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the sand reader poured the contents of the bag into the mat. They were an assortment of quartz crystals, large yellow beads, smooth pebbles and some strangelooking beans. One of the pebbles rolled under my stool. I tried to reach for it. Bleng stopped me.
“ No one is allowed to touch these sacred objects unless I give them permission. God gave them to me in a dream and taught me how to use them to help mankind. He told me not to let anyone touch them, else they would lose their magic power.”
The contents of the bag were collected and tossed into the air and allowed to scatter on the mat again.
Bleng viewed the objects with penetrating eyes for a minute or two without uttering a word. He broke the silence, by murmuring the word“ Tene” to himself several times, nodding in between. The old man cleared his throat and offered to tell me what he saw in the crystals. For some reason which I cannot explain, I turned pale and felt nervous. Bleng looked straight into my eyes;“ young man,” he uttered. I felt a sudden thump against my chest. It was my heart, beating like a machine.“ Tene ' s heart is divided.” The old man revealed.
I felt a sudden jolt. I felt like the whole world had suddenly dropped from under me. I was unable to speak. In such a state of mind, the old man found it useless to continue telling me what he saw in the crystals. For true I was dumbfounded and numb all over. In his long experience as a professional diviner, Bleng had discovered a way of bringing clients like me back to reality.
“ I think what you boys need right now is a good shot of St. Paul Lightning on roots.” A good gulp of the hot liquor sent an exhilarating sensation through me. I felt better all of a sudden.
When the old man asked,“ How you like my roots?”
I told him,“ just fine. It has brought me around.”
“ I know it.” Old man Bleng smiled.“ Gortokai, when you have reached my age, you will agree that good rum, delicious food and some money, not too much, to keep you worrying, are to be desired more than a beautiful unfaithful woman.”
Although I had not gone through some of the
3