The Wizard appeared to be reading it like a book, not raising his eyes even as he talked to the supplicant.
“You live in Eldares,” the Wizard of the Crow stated.
“Yes,” assented John Kaniuru.
And you do not want anybody to know that you have been to my shrine.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Even your bosses don’t know that you are here.”
“Yes.”
“Your work, or your name, has it something to do with smell?”
That statement rattled Kaniuru, and it made him pause for a second. It was so close to the truth of his name that he saw no point in denying it. This mirror has a lot of power, he thought.
“Yes,” he said at last.
“So you can be called the Smelling One… no, no… One-Who-Smells… Oh, why is the image of your name becoming blurry?… Oh yes, it’s back. Much clearer now. Something to do with Nose or Noses, something like that.”
Kaniuru almost jumped off his seat. The Wizard of the Crow had not yet looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on the book of the mirror the entire time. How did he know that my name is derived from
“Yes,” Kaniuru agreed in a slightly tremulous voice.
“And now your job! You used to capture shadows of humans, animals, plants, brooks, the bush.”
“How?” Kaniuru asked, pretending not to know what the Wizard of the Crow was talking about.
“On paper or in stone, the likeness of things?”
“Yes. Yes,” Kaniuru agreed quickly.
“But now you shadow people instead of capturing their shadows.”
“What?”
“You know, the Lord told the fishermen to leave their nets behind and follow him; he would make them fishers of men. You too must have heard the call of your Lord and Master to leave the images of things behind and follow him so as to become fisher of men and women.”
“Yes, something like that,” said Kaniuru lamely.
“The writing on the mirror has vanished,” said the Wizard of the Crow as he raised his head and looked directly at Kaniuru. “I am now ready to hear your story. But wait a minute!” the Wizard of the Crow said, looking at the mirror again. “There is more writing here. It is to do with your being captive. I see a heart held prisoner. Is your heart being held captive by somebody?”
“What does the mirror mean by that?”
For a moment Kaniuru thought that the Wizard of the Crow was referring to Jane Kanyori. He felt like laughing at the thought, because he had used her only for sexual release and money laundering.
“You mean the woman who works at the bank?” Kaniuru asked, as if the Wizard of the Crow already knew about her. “Jane Kanyori will never capture my heart. She is not bad, but she is not my type and class,” he said, forgetting that he had gone there posing as a base workman.
“Why so? Has another of your class or type already captured your heart?”
“Yes,” Kaniuru said quickly, wondering how the Wizard of the Crow could know about both Jane Kanyori and Nyawlra. There was clearly no need to deny what the wizard already knew. “There is one who captured my heart long ago. She is special, Mr. Wizard of the Crow.”
“Where is she now?” the Wizard of the Crow ventured to ask.
“I don’t know. I wish I knew.”
“Are you looking for her?”
“Day and night. But that is not the reason I came here today”
“The images have all disappeared. There is now only darkness in the mirror,” said the Wizard of the Crow, now fixing his eyes on Kaniuru. “Say what ill wind blows you to my shrine?”
“Mine is not an ill wind,” Kaniuru said. “Mine is the healthy breeze of property.”
“Land? Cows and goats?”
“No, more than land, goats, and cows. Money”
“Newly rich? New money that suddenly came your way?”
“Yes,” Kaniuru said. “But you know how our people are. Driven by envy.”
“And you fear that they might cast evil on your new wealth? That they might make the riches disappear as quickly as they came?”
“You have read my mind, Wizard of the Crow. So I want a magic potion, a magic spell, anything that will protect my wealth forever so that I can sleep in peace.”
“Does your boss know about the new wealth?”
“No.”
“Does anyone?”
“Wizard of the Crow, there is a saying that he who eats alone dies alone, but there are some delicacies that a person should eat alone, even at the risk of dying alone.”
“You are so young and yet so well versed in proverbs.”
“Gray hairs are not necessarily a sign of wisdom,” said Kaniuru, happy at the compliment.
The flattery made him feel that the Wizard of the Crow was a real diviner, a true seer of useful truths, and he began to like him.
“This shrine is for treating the sick-you know that?” said the Wizard of the Crow. “Here we bewitch evil. So let me ask you, has your property sickened you already?”
“Oh, no, no, I’m not at all sick of it. I mean, mine is not a real illness.”
“Here I know only how to chase away real illnesses in even the deepest recesses of the body or mind. So I can be of no use to you.”
“Please help me,” Kaniuru pleaded. “Whatever you want for your services I will pay”
What’s ailing you? Your heart or mind or both?”
Kaniuru quickly decided that he had no alternative but to fake an illness. But what illness? Then he recalled the video and Tajirika’s account of the malady of words getting stuck in his larynx. Well, nobody holds a monopoly on any illness. If he could take over Tajirika’s seat as chairman of Marching to Heaven, why not also his ailment? Kaniuru now bent his head like one weighed down by grave matters. He raised his head and cleared his throat.
“To tell the truth, talking about my illness is a little embarrassing. The situation is like this. Sometimes, when I think too much about my new wealth, words get stuck in my throat, Wizard of the Crow, and when I try to force them out, out pops If. “
“Only one word?”
“Yes, but it repeats itself many times.”
“And when does this terrible thing come upon you? What triggers it? Do the words get stuck only when you think about your new wealth?”
“Sometimes, but also when I’m not thinking about anything in particular.”
“So, what do you want?”
“First, I need medicine to prevent words from getting stuck in my larynx.”
When did you last have an attack?”
“Oh, this morning. I mean, late this afternoon. That’s why I came here in darkness. Emergency.”
“But now the malady is gone; it’s in remission.”
“I told you. It’s an on-and-off thing. It’s sudden.”
“Is it even worse than usual?”
Kaniuru tried to recall what Tajirika had said in the video but he could not remember all the details. So he just improvised as he went along.
“It normally happens at home in the evenings, after office hours. It is worse when I look at a mirror.”
“What do you see in the mirror?”
“My face.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. My face. I know my face.”
