Blood & Milk Read Online Free Page A

didn’t care.
    I kept my head bowed. “May I ask your names? I would like to know what to call you.”
    After another brief meeting amongst themselves, the diviner nodded. “Kasisi.”
    Angry warrior’s name was Kijani. And the other elders were Makumu and Mposi and Lomunyak.
    I put my hand to my chest. “My name is Heath Crowley.”
    “No,” Kasisi said. “You are Alé.”
    The other men laughed, but they nodded. “Alé. Alé.”
    Right then. So apparently my name was Alé. It sounded like Ah-leh, and I had no clue what it meant. Probably Stupid White Man , but as it meant they’d accepted me even as an outsider, I just smiled and nodded.
    Then Kijani pointed his spear to the left. “Damu. Go to Damu.”
    They found something funny about that, repeating “Damu and Alé” as they laughed. I didn’t care. I took my leave with a bow of my head.
    And under the warm African sky, I shed my name of Heath Crowley, along with my old life, and for the briefest moment, it was the lightest I’d felt in over twelve months. From that day on, I wasn’t Heath anymore. There was no dark cloud hanging over me, there was no all-consuming heartache, there was no devastating loss. I was Alé.
    And I went in search of Damu.
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Damu was coming out of his hut with his bucket in hand. “Damu,” I called. “Kijani said I was to find you.”
    Damu gave me a hard nod. “Yes.”
    His English wasn’t great, but I was grateful he spoke any at all. I knew English was common in Tanzania, but I hadn’t realised just how difficult it might have been if they spoke none at all. I had to make an effort to learn more Maa words. I doubted I’d ever be fluent―it seemed so fast and very foreign, but I was determined to at least try. I motioned to his bucket. “Where are we going?”
    His voice was quiet, his whole demeanour was placid. “Water.”
    “Oh, of course.” I looked around, seeing nothing but thorn fencing, mud huts, and dirt. “Where do we go?”
    He nodded over the thorn fence and started to walk. Of course I followed, and as we went through the small gate, we headed in the direction he had nodded. Outside the kraal was something else. When I’d arrived the night before, I couldn’t see any of my surroundings. Now it was a perfect summer day: the sun was still hovering over the horizon and the sky, well, I’d never seen a sky so big. The landscape was flat, undulating to low rolling hills on the horizon. The grass was knee-high and browning off, a sign of the blistering heat. There was a line of greener trees to the west, and in an otherwise dry environment, I assumed the thriving vegetation meant water.
    I must have assumed right, because we headed in that direction. There were some women walking a few hundred metres ahead, their laughter carried when the wind blew towards us. Damu and I walked without speaking, and yet, I didn’t mind it. It was a peaceful silence.
    I was still wearing the clothes from yesterday, and I hadn’t eaten since… I couldn’t remember. The plane flight from Sydney?
    “So, what do you eat for breakfast?” My voice sounded loud in the silence. Damu looked at me, confused, so I broke it down and put my hand to my mouth. “Food?”
    “Yes, yes,” was all he said.
    Okay, then. So maybe there would be breakfast after we got water? I had no clue. Now that I’d thought of food, my stomach growled in protest. If Damu had heard it, and I assumed he had, he said nothing.
    We walked the rest of the way in silence. It must have been a kilometre away, and as we neared the small river, the women who had been ahead of us were walking back. They carried plastic containers of water, and their chatter and smiles died away when they saw me. They spoke in passing to Damu, pleasantly enough, but it got me thinking…
    All the other males had gone, herding their cattle. I’d seen them off in the distance―not only the cows and goats, but the striking tall dark figures draped in