“Rafiki, are you all right?”
“Who cares! Is Taka all right??”
“Do you think so?”
"Brother, I'm afraid there is more than half truth to this.”
"I know," Makedde said. "But sometimes it is from the telling that the prophesy comes true. You did not pray for guidance first--you left yourself unprotected. Evil spirits just wait for chances like this. They speak their piece, filling innocent little heads with foul thoughts to stir up trouble. Sometimes silence is the wisest prophesy of all."
Rafiki hung his head. "I am so ashamed. Can't I undo it, brother? Is there nothing I can do?"
Makedde went back to the scrying pool. He looked deeply into the water, praying first to Mano and Minshasa for protection. Then there was a gentle breeze from the east and on the wind was wafted the comforting scent of wild honey. The wind stirred the surface of the water, and after it had passed, the power of the holy pair had dispelled the shadows.
Makedde stared like one in a trance. “Rafiki, if you would hear the words of Aiheu, pay attention. For a little truth is like a little branch that will not reach to the choice fruit.”
The young mandrill fell on his face. “Speak, Lord.”
“A spirit has entered your world. The evil which you have set free, you must also bind. All the years of your life shall you toil to undo a careless moment. Milk and mud join quickly, but do they separate quickly? Your words have made the milk unfit to drink, yet I have not forsaken you. For if milk and mud are my creations, I can appoint whom I please to separate them, and it will be done.”
Makedde gently helped Rafiki to his feet and helped him climb up a large branch to a fork near the top of the huge baobab. Here, the branches had interwoven tightly, forming a kind of nook in which he sat down.
Cupping his chin in his hand reflectively, Rafiki sat silently, feeling the great tree sway beneath him, listening to the wind whisper past his ears, and watched the sun track its way across the great dome of the sky.
Some hours later, the twinkling stars emerged from their daytime hiding places to find him still there, unmoving. The gentle breeze had turned cold with the passage of the sun, but the mandrill sat shivering, and made no move to go below.
“I deserve it,” he thought. “I have destroyed the very thing I love!” Aloud he whispered, "Oh God, what am I doing out here?"
"I was about to ask you the same question."
He turned to see Asumini behind him. "What?"
"Your dinner is ready."
He shook his head. "I don't think I could stomach anything right now."
The night breeze ruffled her hair gently as she sat next to him and hugged him close. "What's wrong?"
"I ruined young Taka's life, today. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?!" He clutched his head in his hands. "Am I really the one Minshasa chose to serve the King? God rest his soul, but maybe your father’s dreams were bigger than his hold on reality." He raised his head and looked at her glumly. "You always did like the forest better than the savanna anyway, didn't you?"
Her forehead furrowed in confusion. "What are you getting at?"
"I'm talking about quitting." He looked back at the dark skyline, avoiding her questioning gaze. "I'd be better off foraging for a living than dabbling in things I have no talent for."
"What?" Asumini drew back in disbelief. "Metutu, you can't! You are a wonderful healer, and a fine shaman."
"Pfah. I should have stuck with being a scribe. When Mother died, I hurt so badly. Gods, Asumini, I just wanted to DO something, to make a difference!" he shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Oh, I made a difference, all right! In a matter of seconds I took everything Taka held dear and ripped it to shreds. He would have been better off had I never shown my face here."
Asumini moved around and looked him in the eyes. "He would have been dead had you never shown your face here. Along with his brother and mother. You made a difference then, love. You will do it again."
"So I saved his life only to ruin it three moons later. I've accomplished something indeed." He reached out and broke a stem from a nearby branch, twisting it between his fingers slowly. "Asumini, your father showed me his dream. I was supposed to be the chief that would save mandrill society from itself. I was SUPPOSED to be the voice of Aiheu to my people." Angrily, he cast the twig away. "I reward his trust by dragging you out in the middle of nowhere and playing God."
Asumini sat silently for a moment, then rose. She carefully made her way over to the branch and began to climb down, but paused. "Rafiki?"
Rafiki half turned. "Yes?"
"I love you dearly, and will stay with you no matter what you decide. But think on this. If you had the choice to make all over again, if you could choose between becoming the great chief and leader of our people, or saving the life of that one little cub: which would it be?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left.
It was well into the night before he followed her. He slept only lightly, and his dreams were fraught with nightmares, in which the scene with Taka was repeated over and over. Finally he gave up, rising long before the sun made an appearance, and climbing quietly up to his perch where he had sat the previous night. Crossing his legs, he gazed into the expectant eastern sky, looking like a stone sentinel set to guard over some priceless treasure.
Feeling the tree shake, he looked about and saw Makedde ascending behind him. “Good morning, brother.”
“Good morning, Rafiki. Up early, I see.” Makedde froze in the midst of reaching for a handhold, shock widening his eyes as he stared at his brother. “My God, what has happened to you?!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Go look at yourself!”
Rafiki climbed down, grumbling irritably. “Honestly. I just haven’t had much sleep, brother.” Reaching the naos of the baobab, he meandered over to the scrying bowl which still stood full of water. “From the look on your face, I’d have thought you had seen a monster.”
Suddenly he caught sight of his reflection. An old mandrill, wizened and white-haired with age, stared back at him.
“Oh my gods, what has happened to me?” Rafiki moaned, clutching at his cheeks with his fingers, feeling the irrefutable evidence of the lines etched within. He turned to Makedde, who stood next to him, the horror in Rafiki’s eyes reflected in his own. “Brother? What’s wrong with me?”
“It was the Makei.” Makedde sat down heavily. “The spirit has drained much of your youth.”
“And left this empty husk behind,” Rafiki added bitterly, staring at his withered hands. “Why didn’t it finish the job?? Why didn’t it go ahead and kill me!”
“Do not speak such nonsense!” Makedde grabbed Rafiki by the shoulders roughly. “Your body may be weakened, but your mind is untouched. Use it! Think, brother!”
“I am.” Rafiki shook him off and snatched up an empty basket Makedde used to store dried herbs. Picking up his digging stick, he chucked it inside, and reached for a small pouch of medicines.
“What are you doing?” Makedde said, watching him toss item after item into the basket.
“Thinking.” Rafiki continued to pack the basket without looking up. “I think it would be best if I left this place for good.”
Makedde looked alarmed. "Brother, these are hasty thoughts, borne of the heart, and not the head. Reconsider."
Rafiki shook his head. "This is for the best. I will best serve the house of Ahadi by staying as far away from it as possible, now. I have caused enough damage by my folly." He picked up his medicine pouch and tossed it into the basket. To his irritation, a small packet slipped out and landed with a slap on the ground. Grumbling, he walked over and picked it up.