A couple of hours later, Cooper could once again hear the resounding snores of Rosedale. They’d decided to all sleep in the same hut, rather than scatter around. It was safer. Though it was a hell of a noise.
He stood in the darkness, looking up at the sky. Couldn’t sleep, and not just because of Rosedale. He couldn’t sleep because that was who he was. Or rather that was someone he’d become.
Insomnia was his bugbear. A bit like his Uncle Beau’s sciatica was his. It wasn’t just pharmaceutically led. It was the dreams. The flashbacks. The images which played in his head and kept him awake. And then in the morning the crippling tiredness which meant the exhaustion made it impossible to fight away thoughts. Bad memories he spent most of his life trying to avoid. Unless he had something to take away the edge, that was.
Quietly, he walked towards the trees. The area was inexplicably beautiful. In different circumstances there was something to be said about this true kind of isolation. The feel of the place was unique with the eerily primitive sounds of the forest and the almost prehistoric size of the trees and plants.
A noise made him break away from his thoughts and in a fluid unbroken movement, he pulled out his gun from his back holster and swivelled around to where the sound was coming from. ‘Zola…! Jesus! You gave me a fright. You okay?’
‘Yes, but your friend grunts loudly, though it gives me a chance to talk to my grandson. I can feel him here…’ Her smile was radiant but her face turned suddenly serious. ‘Why did you say I gave you a fright? Are you afraid the evil from the land we visited today has come here? To me?’
‘No! Hell no… I thought you were someone else.’
‘You didn’t feel it was me?’
Cooper slipped his gun back, fascinated by the level of scrutiny Zola put on his words.
‘No, I guess I didn’t.’
She gave a half smile. ‘You need to feel more, I think that’s your problem, Thomas.’
Cooper couldn’t help but laugh. It was the first time he’d heard Zola say his name, and the way she said it, with the drawl and emphasis on the Tom, it was clear she’d picked that up from Rosedale. ‘I think I’ve done my fair share of feeling Zola, I’d rather give any more of that kind of stuff a miss.’
Zola scowled. ‘Échapper à la vie?’
Cooper exhaled. ‘Am I escaping life? Wow, you don’t pull any punches do you?’
‘Que voulez-vous dire?’
‘What I mean is, I wasn’t expecting you to be so straight. I guess I should’ve done, because it seems to be a thing with women to want to talk about feelings. Anytime. Anyplace. And hey, who am I to think standing in the middle of a Congolese forest, hiding from a variety of things, should be any different?’
Cooper winked as he pulled the shawl Maddie had given her around her shoulders.
Zola tilted her head to one side. ‘You’ve lost someone too?’
It sounded like both a question and a statement. It also made Cooper feel uncomfortable.
He looked down at the ground. Kicked at nothing particular. Everything in him needed to avoid Zola’s intense gaze because now he was beginning to feel. Feeling something he didn’t want to. And there was nothing he could do to put the lid back on once it had been opened.
‘I dunno… it’s a long story, something I’d rather not get into.’
Cooper glanced up in time to see Zola give him a sad, almost pitiful look. ‘You’re already in it Thomas. You’re running from yourself, but you can’t. C’est impossible. You’ll always be you. Tu ne peux pas t’en échapper.’
Cooper knew he sounded defensive. But she just needed to stop. Hell, this wasn’t her concern.
‘Look, Zola, I’m not running from myself. I’m just…’
‘When did they die?’
It flicked a switch in him. He raised his voice. He didn’t care. ‘She isn’t dead, okay! I just don’t know where she is… not yet… I don’t know… Maybe she is. That’s what everyone thinks. Listen, Zola, I don’t want to sound disrespectful especially after you’ve been so helpful, but I’m not real good at talking about her.’
‘Why?’
He felt he should’ve said,
It’s none of your business,
Get off my back.
Instead he said, ‘It hurts.’
Zola nodded, looking like she understood. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘In what way?’
‘Have you seen her walking with you since you lost her?’
It sounded crazy but he knew exactly what she meant. ‘A long time ago when I was still searching for her. I used to think I saw her. I saw her everywhere. In a bar. In a mall. At the movie-house. But not now.’
‘Do you see her anywhere else?’
‘My dreams. But I never see her face, not really, and the dreams aren’t exactly great if you know what I mean. It’s more like a constant reminder of what I did wrong.’
‘Would you like to see her?’
‘I don’t even have the words for what I’d give for that, Zola. Just to see her again. Even once… I…’ He stopped. Breathed deeply. Felt the emotion well up. Began to floor him.
‘I can make you see her. I can help you do that.’
Cooper was stuck for words. But not for emotions. They came charging at him like a bull in a rodeo. Offended. Surprised. Angry. But most of all he was intrigued. ‘See her how?’
‘There’s a root we eat. A root which allows us to see our ancestors and the ones lost to us.’
Cooper didn’t say anything for a moment. He guessed she was talking about the Iboga root, which he knew was used in the DRC for visionary and hallucinogenic experiences. He’d heard it was often consumed in ceremonies for contacting the spirits of the ancestors, or providing a way to experience the journey to the other side. Giving the ability to communicate with the dead. The other thing he’d heard about the Iboga root was that it had a reputation of working on the specific. Almost individualized by the problems you had.
‘I don’t know.’
Zola tentatively took his hand. ‘It will help you… Come on.’
Switching on the pocket torch, Cooper walked with Zola along the path. Past the burnt out hut of Emmanuel’s and along into the deep undergrowth.
‘Have you a knife?’
Cooper pulled up the leg of his pants. Attached to his calf was a drop leg holster inside which was an Ontario ASEK survival knife He smiled to see Zola nodding in approval.
Then kneeling down next to several shrubs, with small green leaves and delicate white flowers, Zola began to pull at one of the plant’s roots. Exerting so much strength, her face twisted with the effort.
‘Let me do that.’
Cooper crouched down and with minimum struggle, pulled out the whole plant.
‘Brush the earth off the root… Bon. Now you don’t want the wood or the first layer of the bark, those parts you cannot eat. You need to use your knife to peel down to the second layer of the root… Oui, that’s it… Not too deep. Scrape, not dig… Juste un peu. C’est tout.’
He used the side of the sharp blade. Followed her instructions carefully. Shaved off the bark to the wispy second layer which curled into strips and dropped into his lap.
Zola took the shaved root. Peering and examining them so closely he felt like he was in a high school woodwork exam.
‘C’est ça. This will a good plant, and it’ll be enough for you to see. Quel-est son prénom?’
‘Ellie. Her name’s Ellie.’
‘Now you must go to her. It’s time. Chew it. She’s waiting for you.’
Cooper gazed into the old woman’s large almond eyes, which seemed to hold a combination of wisdom and naivety.
‘I’m not sure… I…’
‘Are you scared?’
He ran his fingers through his mop of strawberry blond hair. Ill at ease. Jesus, he felt embarrassed. Scared wasn’t a word he wanted to associate himself with.
‘No, of course not, Zola, why would I be scared? I’ve been a military man, a Navy SEAL, served my country, been on the front line, flown planes, you name it, scared isn’t in my vocabulary.’
‘Those things are things that you do, they aren’t who you are, not what you feel, here, inside.’
They both fell silent.
And Cooper ran his eyes around the darkness of the night. ‘Okay, yeah… yeah I’m scared. I’m scared to see her. Maybe she’ll hate me for what I did. I couldn’t take that. Or maybe she’ll not want to talk to me. I dunno, but… This is difficult to say, but the biggest thing I’m scared of, Zola, is tomorrow. When it’s all over, when I have to let her go again. When I’ve lost her all over again… I don’t know if I can do that.’
Once more, Zola took his hands. ‘But you won’t let her go, you’ve never let her go have you? She’s with you all the time, but let her in properly or she’ll keep on hurting you. Stop trying to keep her away. You won’t even sleep in case she comes to you in your dreams. And she wants to. Crois-moi.’
Cooper buried his face in his hands, his body moving with silent racking sobs.
Zola stood up and waited patiently for him to calm down as he wiped his face on his sleeve. Smiling and taking the strips of root from Zola, he said, ‘I’m ready.’
‘Then I’ll leave you on your own with her.’
She turned to walk away.
‘Zola, stop! I never asked you your grandson’s name.’
‘Laurent. His name was Laurent and he was a good boy.’
‘I’m sure he was, I have no doubt about it at all… and Zola, thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, this is our exchange. Your ancestors helped to save me and now mine are helping to save you. It is the spirits we both should thank.’