he said no. Fred always adds a small exaggeration to everything, he can’t help it. So instead of just leaving it at that, he added, “Actually I believe she has hooves. That’s why she wears those boots, so none of us can see them.”
Madillo jumped up when she heard Nokokulu approaching. “Abducted by a wizard
or a witch
,” she whispered. “But we have to go now, Fred.”
Madillo has this fear/admiration thing going on with Nokokulu. She likes the idea of her being a witch but always thinks she’s about to turn her into a chameleon or a cockroach or something. Also, whenever Madillo sees Nokokulu, she bows to her. Even Nokokulu thinks that’s weird. I once asked Madillo if she thought that would save her from a terrible spell being cast on her, and she said no, it was because you should never look a witch in the eye. If you do, you could be sucked into their powerful web.
I told her that in fact it’s
animals
you shouldn’t look in the eye when you first meet them, because they feel you are challenging them and they may attack. Dogs are like that. So are gorillas and baboons. But that fact didn’t stop her bowing.
“Don’t go,” Fred said. His voice sometimes goes from deep back to squeaky when he’s worried. “Please?”
How could we leave after that?
Madillo moved to a chair under Fred’s windowsill, as far as she could get from the doorway that Nokokulu was about to walk through. I sat where I was, on the edge of Fred’s bed. Fred had flopped back onto his pillow and was looking as ill as he could manage.
The door opened and Nokokulu walked in. She looked at the three of us and shook her head.
“No good this, no good at all. My great-grandchild sick in bed, dying perhaps, and you two same-same girls come here looking for germs. No, we can’t have that.”
Nokokulu uses “we” when she means “I”. Mum does a similar thing, except she uses “we” instead of “you”. So when she says, “We really should try and keep this house tidier,” she means us.
“Are you listening to me, you twins?” Nokokulu said. “Am I not right? You have a house next door that has no germs in it. A house full of doctors. It’s time for you to go there and leave poor Chiti with his Nokokulu so he can get better.”
She calls him Chiti even though that’s his second name. It was Nokokulu who gave him that name when he was born, because she says Fred is a name better suited to a pet fish.
We didn’t need a second invitation. We left quickly, avoiding Fred’s eyes. We would have liked to stay and help him, but even though I don’t believe the whole witch thing, Nokokulu can be a bit scary. Mainly because you never know what she’s going to say to you.
“Come on,” I whispered to Madillo as we walked down the stairs. “I need to go home to continue my investigation.”
“What?” asked Madillo when we were back safely on our side of the hedge. “What other investigating do you need to do? We already have the culprit. It’s Nokokulu. Are you blind? Why else would she have barged into the room just as you were mentioning Aunt Kiki, who coincidentally just happens to be her granddaughter? She’s probably killed all of them. You could see that’s what Fred thinks too.”
“Fred didn’t say anything at all about it. You don’t conduct investigations by jumping to ridiculous conclusions. You examine the facts and you ask the questions. You investigate.”
“You know full well that she heard you, Bul-Boo. So why wasn’t she upset? Why didn’t she ask us anything about it? I’ll tell you why – because she doesn’t need to. She already knows. You
know
that she heard.”
I had to admit, that part was a puzzle. Although not enough of a puzzle that we should jump to a ridiculous conclusion. There was no doubt Nokokulu had heard. Fred’s dad says she has 20/20 hearing. Which, by his definition, means that she hears what she wants to hear from twenty miles away, but miraculously can’t hear