Master Mind stands in the middle of the Zulu village, a hundred meters away from our small island and our suburban Toronto apartment. He stands right outside the darkness which now engulfs the hut Amahle and Joy had probably gone into.
“What are they talking about?” Suzy whispers to Master Mind. She knows as well as I do that Master Mind can hear whispers from a distance.
Our favorite killer robot does not answer. He is shaking his head.
Suddenly, there is a wail in the distance. Suzy jumps, but I’m used to it.
It’s not a person’s wail, it’s music that imitates a wail. The wail turns into a scream of pain. And the air is then filled with almost unbearably sad music.
“Amahle?” Suzy asks me. She’s heard the music of Amahle’s dream before, but not like this.
I nod.
“It is a tragedy, Pirate Mother,” Master Mind answers softly, his voice only loud enough to get over the music and reach us, who are leaning on the railing a few meters above him, looking down at him. “The Sunless One’s mother had died.”
“Oh, my,” Suzy says. ‘The Sunless One’ is what Master Mind calls Amahle, because we cannot see the suns in her dream. “She must be heartbroken. And it just happened. And it’s her dream!”
The music is tragic and the mood is catchy. I feel sad, and I can see that Suzy is much sadder.
“This is where her mother grew up,” Master Mind continues, relaying what he hears from inside the hut. “Her mother spent her childhood here before moving to Johannesburg. The Sunless One grew up in Johannesburg and only came to this place when her mother’s mother was dying. This is the hut of her mother’s childhood.”
“Yeah. Master Mind. We should leave them alone. Joy is not in danger.”
“Nonetheless, I shall stay here and guard.”
The music around us cries, as Amahle no doubt cries within the hut.
Suzy takes my hand and motions for me to move away from the railing. “This is a private moment,” she says. “A private dream. Let’s let her be.”
I nod and move away and the music around us cries.
(To be continued…)
—Told by Grampa Walt