Free Strong Medicine by Angela Meadon Page A

had failed his grandson.
    He would have to set this right. It was his responsibility as the head of the family. And it was time he started training someone anyway. Every day his body grew a little weaker, his bones couldn’t hold him up straight enough anymore. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity.
    “Jacob, do you remember a few months ago you asked me to teach you how to be a sangoma ?”
    Jacob’s eyes brightened.
    “Yes, Tata.”
    “Do you want me to start teaching you now?”
    Jacob nodded his head vigorously and a huge grin spread across his face. The old man nodded. He wasn’t as excited as the boy, but it felt like the right decision to him. It was better than leaving him to the influence of his so-called friends.
    “Before we start, you must promise me that you will never tell anyone about what I teach you. You must promise that you will finish your training. There is no turning around. Once we start we have to go all the way.”
    “I promise, Tata. I will learn everything you teach me, I won’t tell anybody.”
    “There’s something else.” the old man walked around to Jacob’s side of the table and sat on the edge of the warm oak. “Some of the things I will teach you are considered…evil by some people. But everything we do is to help someone. Everything. You must always remember that Jacob.”
    “What kinds of things, Tata?”
    Jacob’s eyes shone with the beginnings of tears. Were they tears of gratitude or fear? The old man couldn’t tell. He hoped they were not a sign of weakness in the boy.
    “You will understand in time. Just remember that everything we do is for the greater good. I bring balance to the luck in the world. To improve one person’s luck, you must take some away from another person.”
    “I don’t understand, Tata.”
    Jacob wound his hands in his shirt, his curiosity and bravado replaced by the inching finger of doubt and fear.
    “You will, my child, you will. I will show you everything. Now, let’s go have dinner and tell your mother.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER NINETEEN
     
     
    Thursday morning dawned grey and cold. A front had blown in during the night, driving a thin drizzle before it. I raised my head from the kitchen table and stretched the knots out of my neck and shoulders.
    Seventy-two hours had passed since I’d seen Lindsey on Monday. I’ve watched my fair share of Medical Detectives, I know that the first 48 hours are the most critical, and if the missing person isn’t found in that time the chances of them being found alive goes down. Way down.
    Sue and Thomas had taken Peter to her mother’s house the night before, and just as well. Our house was starting to resemble a dump. It was no place for a toddler. Busi had spent the whole day on Wednesday helping with the search for Lindsey, and neglected her usual chores. The dustbin was overflowing with beer bottles, take-away boxes, and stompies . Ashtrays full of dead smokes lay on the kitchen table amid a mess of stained flyers and spilled coffee.
    “Why don’t you take a shower?” Besta said from her customary station next to the tea pot.
    “I’m too busy.” I rubbed my eyes and lit a smoke.
    “You’ve just woken up.” She came over and patted my shoulder. “It’s too early for you to start phoning people. Busi hasn’t come in yet. It won’t do you any harm to get cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”
    I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered. The past few days were a blur of frantic activity and I was starting to pay the price for it. The idea of a few minutes under the hot spray of the shower appealed to me.
    I hate to admit it, but Besta was right. The steam of the shower cleared my head, and the fresh soap smell calmed my nerves. I stood under the hot water until my skin turned pink and my fingers wrinkled. ‘Granny fingers’ we called it and I always teased Lindsey about how she would have to start knitting if her fingers wrinkled from being in the bath for too