The Witch Doctor's Wife by Tamar Myers Read Free Book Online Page A

which the river plunged, and with so much hydraulic force that it kept the European part of the city perpetually supplied with electricity.
    Belle Vue Falls was the Belgian name for this geological feature, and from it they had taken the name for their town. The bridge had been built by forced labor, and although seventy-eight African lives were lost, as well as three European, the result was an architectural marvel. It was intentionally constructed as near to the lip of the gorge as possible, so that whoever crossed it might take full advantage of the view. But critics of the bridge—Europeans from other towns and cities, and engineers who hadn’t been included in its construction—said that it was only a matter of time before erosion sent it toppling into the gorge.
    Tonight, as Husband stood on the bridge, facing the gorge, he thought about the men who had died in the pounding waters below. The Africans had been expendable, their names of no significance to the colonialists. The three whites, however—two Belgian, one Greek—had their names carved into a rock pillar that stood as a memorial on the European side of the river.
    Then Husband remembered, for the millionth time, thatCripple had said she was going to work for the American mamu . If Cripple said it—well, it was almost as good as done. Husband couldn’t wait to hear the news. When he arrived at his family compound, he was panting heavily.
    His oldest son, Brings Happiness, ran to greet him. “ Tatu , what has happened?”
    “Happened?” Husband panted for a while before continuing. “Your foolish tatu just ran up the hill. That is what happened.”
    “Eh,” Second Wife grunted, as she poked the slumbering fire back to life. “You will wear your heart out if you persist in doing such foolish things. Then who will feed and clothe the children?”
    “Maybe Cripple,” Husband said. “Has she returned from her job?”
    “Job? What Job? Forgive me, Husband, but who would give a woman such as First Wife a job?”
    “Wait, and you will see.” Husband was well aware that there was no love lost between the woman he lived for and the woman who lived to serve him. It was the stuff of French novels, except that his family was not rich beyond dreams. Besides, it was the lot of the African to endure. Surely to ask more of life was to anger the spirits.
    Husband knew that Second Wife would be happy to say more on the subject, so he turned his full attention to the children. Satisfied with his father’s answer, Brings Happiness was playfully teasing a young sister, much to the amusement of the other children. Only Baby Boy seemed left out of the action, sitting quietly in the doorway of the house, sucking on something—something as large as a mango seed, but clearly not that. What could that be?
    Husband walked over and scooped the child into his arms. “What do you have there?” he asked gently.
    Baby boy was too young to speak, but he generously removedthe wet object from his mouth and held it out, as if offering it to his father.
    “Second Wife,” Husband called, trying not let the excitement show in his voice, “what is this our son chews on, as if it were a piece of sugarcane?”
    “Just a stone he found in the manioc field. He is growing a new tooth, and the coldness of it is soothing. But do not worry, Husband, it is so large he cannot put it all into his mouth at one time.”
    “Then I will not worry,” Husband said, but his heart was pounding.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    The Bashilele were one of the few societies in the world which practiced polyandry—that is to say, a woman could have more than one husband. The cause of this was polygamy, which resulted in not enough women to go around. In brief it worked as follows: three or four men would band together and purchase one wife, whom they shared equally, but after several years the wife was given the privilege of selecting a single husband from this group. As for the others, hopefully by then they had