Tail of the Blue Bird by Nii Ayikwei Parkes

Author:Nii Ayikwei Parkes
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2008-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Fida

Kayo extended his toes and squinted at the sunlight that had come to settle on him through the window-hole of the hut. His first impression was that everything was absolutely quiet, but after a few minutes he became aware of the sounds of chickens clucking, and, in the distance, the cooing of pigeons. He put his hand to his face where the mat’s pattern had imprinted itself on his skin and closed his eyes again. He’d slept longer than he had intended; Garba’s mat on the other side of the hut was bare, and the door covering had been raised.

After turning on to his front to do fifty quick push-ups, Kayo rolled his mat, propped it against the wall of the hut and headed outside without bothering to put on a shirt.

There was no one immediately outside the hut, but, twenty metres to his left, on the felled palm by the tweneboa tree, the hunter was sitting beside an elderly woman, holding a radio to his ear. He waved when he saw Kayo. The Range Rover looked out of place, lodged in front of the tree, with its high antennae and dark blue gleam. Kayo waved back at the hunter. He wanted to ask some of the villagers about Kofi Atta today so he could begin to piece together a coherent hypothesis of what had happened in Kofi Atta’s hut. Even if he didn’t come up with what Inspector Donkor wanted, Kayo needed to know the truth for himself.

What he had so far was nothing. All he could say for certain was what didn’t happen; with these baked mud floors he couldn’t even pick up footprints accurately. Indeed, even if they had found an entire body which could be identified, no criminal case could be made with the information he had.

Kayo shook his head. It was like his grandfather’s death all over again; without a story, without witnesses, without a confession, he might as well be a ten-year-old with wild suspicions. The difference was this time he didn’t suspect anyone. He had the distinct feeling that the villagers he had met knew more than they were telling, in fact he was certain Oduro and the hunter knew more than they were telling, but none of them had that air of false composure that guilt lends to its carriers.

“Mr Kayo, Mr Kayo!”

Kayo looked up to see Garba stopping to greet Opanyin Poku then jogging towards Kayo as though he had just seen his only friend after a long separation. Garba was also shirtless and his large hands were laden with ripe mangoes.

When Garba reached Kayo, he held out three mangoes. “Morning, morning Mr Kayo. You slept well?” There was a mischievous smile playing at the edge of his lips.

Kayo took the fruit and nodded. He wiped one of the mangoes on his trousers and bit into the flesh. It was sweet.

“Chale, the people for this village no dey fear police ooh. I go interview the people for that side.” He raised his right arm towards the huts on the other side of the tweneboa tree.

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