Truth is a Flightless Bird by Akbar Hussain

Truth is a Flightless Bird by Akbar Hussain

Author:Akbar Hussain [Hussain, Akbar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Iskanchi Press
Published: 2022-10-25T06:00:00+00:00


16

THE STORKS SMELLED OF ROTTING THINGS. Dun-

can stood in the portico of the police station, gathering himself, when he was startled by a screech of sheet metal from above. A stork had ripped a piece from the corrugated roof and held it in its beak. Unblinking beady eyes regarded Duncan.

What were these creatures still doing here?

Duncan felt a hand on his shoulder. He noted the red fingernails as he turned to the bobbed receptionist. Her limbs boyish in the boxy khaki uniform.

“Sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“For misreading your energy. And then locking you into that conference room.”

“My energy?” He laughed, and it felt good to find something humorous, to allow oneself the luxury of authenticity. “And what sort of energy is that?”

The policewoman put out her hand, gold bangle sparkling. “My name is Muthoni.”

He took her hand. “I am Duncan, as you know from the forms you had me fill out.” Duncan grinned. “What is my energy right now?” Her hand felt good, and he liked her haircut. There was an absurd urge to lean in and smell her hair. He was glad that he was out of his clerical uniform. What was wrong with him?

Muthoni paused. She looked away from Duncan’s face, at the clamoring traffic. “You are angry. You regret your past. You are afraid you are not equipped for where you find yourself.” These things she said in the tone of a doctor pronouncing the diagnosis of a lifestyle-induced disease.

Duncan’s grin died.

He took his hand from hers and followed her gaze onto Mathenge Road.

Muthoni continued, “That is how I misread you. I saw darkness about you, in you. But I see now you are afloat in it. It is not something you are emitting. For now. But you must get your bearings quickly.”

Still not looking at Muthoni, Duncan said with as much bitterness as he could muster, “And what is the charge for this psychic analysis?”

She did not take the bait. “I have this ability. I know it needs fine-tuning, maybe more than that. But I have it. And that is why I became a policewoman because I can— She stumbled for the word she wanted, then continued—I get glimpses of things, of people. Anticipate them perhaps.”

“Is that why you take the liberty of depriving people of their freedom in conference rooms? Because you anticipate their guilt? There’s a term for that. Kidnapping.”

Muthoni looked down. “Look, the officer at your accident, Hinga. I’ve read his energy, and his file, and . . . if there’s anything I can help with…Well, you should just know that he is a dangerous man. Prepared to go to dangerous lengths.”

“Was,” added Duncan, turning to look at Muthoni. “Was a dangerous man.” A vision of Hinga’s knee cap split open, the obscenity of the pale-yellow cartilage.

“What do you mean?”

Duncan regretted his indiscretion instantly. “Nothing. Look, he hasn’t even filed a report. I just need to find my friend. Can you think of anywhere I could look?”

Muthoni brought her red fingernails to her mouth. She chewed her lip.



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