The sound that escorted us through the night was the squeaking of Njoro’s bicycle, the hooting of owls, and the chirping of crickets. Despite my nudging her to speak, Beatrice had been quiet in the passenger seat for a long while until, out of the blue, she broke her silence.
“Katana, I need to relieve myself,” she said and I found myself stopping next to a big Mugumo tree—Looking this way and that way for danger, as I waited for her to finish so we could continue with the long journey ahead of us. Little did I know that we would be spending the night on this very tree.
“What’s taking you so long?” I murmured uneasily. In my mind, Njoro and Mama Linda had discovered that we were still alive, and they were hot on our heels; for their bicycle and vengeance. “What’s taking you so long?” I repeated myself with a slightly irritated tone after Beatrice failed to respond.
I did not dare go to where she was. Up to this point I had seen Beatrice’s breasts and I had spent most of my evenings asking God for forgiveness. It was a thing well known in Churo village that you did not just look at a woman’s nakedness without her permission. It is said that Bobobo the fool had peeked at many unsuspecting naked women and he had paid the price with his very wits.
“I am tired Katana,” a voice groaned from the other side of the tree. “We need to get going, Njoro could be closing in on us any minute now,” I tried to speak sense to Beatrice. “My buttocks are sore, I can’t sit on that bicycle again,” she complained while walking towards me. The moon kissed her skin and made her glow like one of Njoro’s bulbs.
“This forest could be dangerous, we don’t know what could be hiding in it,” I said disturbed. “The Great Healer has survived in Mugie forest all his life, and he is a fool. I think we’ll be fine,” Beatrice said with finality while removing some of the food my mother had packed for us and spreading a leso next to the tree. “Come Katana, sit next to me. I know you are also tired and hungry.
I looked at her, she was no longer the fearful girl that was Njoro’s second wife. There was a certain bravery that she got when we were together. In later years it grew so significant to the point of bursting. “They call these picnics in Nairobi. Romantic, eh?” she asked when I finally sat down. I nodded while thinking that I needed to make a fire.
I finally managed to get together some twigs, and branches and had a fire going. We warmed some cassava and washed it down with wild berries and as we did Beatrice told me about how she knew my uncle was rich and understanding and he would give her fare to Nairobi, where she could finally pursue her dream of becoming a video vixen.
Where would we find this rich and understanding uncle she was talking about, when I did not know anything about Dol Dol town, nor heads or tails about where he lived? I wondered. But Beatrice’s mind had wandered and she now wanted something else. “Hold me Katana,” she was saying. “The cold will be less punishing when we are in each other’s arms,” she said innocently.
We laid down and I held her from behind and as I did I began feeling sensations I had never felt before, my heart started racing and my manhood began growing and poking her and she began rubbing her buttocks against me to the point where I started feeling hot and dizzy. I got up frightened and just as I did there was noise in the shrubbery and then a silhouette of a huge man appeared.