Lillian

Chapter 7

The frenzied beating of the drums controlled the night, breathing for it, echoing its mood into every breast that stood enchanted and mesmerized by the sounds that seemed to come out of the very earth. Every beat was like a cry: sometimes pleading, sometimes commanding so that you not only listened but your limbs, no longer master of themselves had to obey the music that took on life and held sway over them. One could also hear the strains of a fife, suave,sweet and unending, weaving in and out of the might of the powerful instrument like skillful hummingbirds but its purpose was to soothe while the drums, rising to fever pitch at times, served only to awaken and control.

Then the voices rang out and the hands that obeyed the drums worked untiringly to manipulate the sound so that the equally plaintive chant was not outdone by the force of the music. Bewitching it had all been: calling everyone to the circle where the big bonfire blazed and cast furtive shadows onto the bodies of the dancers who writhed in unison with the all-consuming rhythm that ruled the night. The meeting had been a religious one; held for the sole purpose of healing a young boy whose illness, it was said, had been caused by evil spirits. Only those powerful enough to resist the malevolent forces were allowed to participate in the dance that saw the child being healed with a combination of special herbs and the pertinent rituals that would force the evil to flee his tiny frame.

From the shadow of a bleeding physic nut tree Lillian watched the rites being performed and wondered, a little in awe, at the energy of the woman who was in charge of the night's proceedings. Tall and full bodied and clothed in red with just a hint of white on her high turban, she commanded everyone's attention with just her stance and the fire that radiated from her eyes. From the center of the dancers she sang the lines of some old religious sankey for the others to echo, kept her movements in perfect timing with the talking drums and massaged the boy's trembling body with the heady concoction all at the same time. Now and again in a guttural tone she gave compelling entreaties for the spirits to leave their host and the bright flames lit up the hard facial expression she bore and gave her an ethereal look that set her apart from everyone else. Even from where she stood Lillian could feel the powerful aura that surrounded the woman as strongly as she felt the heat emanating from the raging, cackling inferno.

The rhythmic onslaught of the drums rose to an unbelievable crescendo as the dancing grew more and more frenzied. The potent smell of overproof rum being used to appease the spirits wafted onto the air and a male dancer, his toned form glistening with sweat, brought out a chicken whose pristine white feathers stood out against the night. Lillian watched, fascinated as he took a mouthful of the rum and spewed it in streaming jets onto the chicken that seemed totally oblivious to its fate. A loud cry rose up suddenly, the drum gave one loud bang and deadly silence clutched the night like a vice as the head of the now wildly fluttering chicken was expertly plucked out, its warm blood gushing onto the child and bathing him in crimson.

Time seemed to stop suddenly, decisively and the little boy, now laying still and apparently slumbering was borne away by his anxious mother, two other women following her towards a make shift tent. The dancing and the beating of the drums continued and as Lillian swept her eyes over the small gathering her eyes locked with those of the woman in red who was standing stock still and staring at her fixedly. After a quick lurch her heart started to thump loudly in her chest and self-consciously she glanced around her to see if she could have mistaken the object of the woman's intense stare. She had not and for the second time that night time came to a full and abrupt halt as the woman, with purposeful steps, came to stand before a bewildered Lillian.

She was younger than she had appeared but no less intimidating and her eyes, dark and riveting, glowed with curiosity even as the corners of her mouth softened slightly. Neither of them spoke and Lillian forced herself not to recoil as the woman lifted a bloody finger to make the sign of the cross on her forehead while staring down into her very soul.