The Girl Who Walked on Water

It was beautiful out on the day that Sam died. The sun was waning and casting an amber glow across the sky. Sam was walking home from his afternoon classes and had his headphones on, and an old Jay Z playing on repeat when he happened to be passing a river that flowed right under the main highway. Sam paused as he caught sight of a cara mocha skinned girl kneeling by the riverbank.

His eyes had never been that great but he could make out that she was wearing the blue shirt and grey skirt that were the uniform at his school, and though she had her head turned away from him there was something familiar about her face, even in profile.

“Refilwe? Refilwe!” Sam said.

The girl didn’t acknowledge his cries and seemed to wade into the dirty river water. Sam turned and sprinted back the way he came. Getting down to the riverbank was a complicated affair, with a railing and a steep drop to the muddy waters to contend with. As he ran to get around the railing, his mind whirled with questions; Refilwe was dead, her body found on a hilltop, and no suspects ever brought to book. Sam had gone to her funeral. He ran through a small neighborhood that overlooked the river to burst out onto the slick grass around it.

The girl was far into the water, but as he approached, he skidded to a stop once he noticed that she wasn’t in the water, she was on top of it.

“What the hell?” Sam said.

A snarl sounded behind him, and when Sam turned, he caught sight of grey blur then his whole world went black.

Sam groaned, his eyes opening in inches to show him a dimly lit room that with long shadows thrown against the walls. He was in what looked to be a mud hut, with old school wooden marionettes slumped up on mobile shelves. In the center of the room was a giant steaming black pot. Everything looked huge, nothing at all like what he was used to. It was in that moment that he was seeing it from above. He was a marionette! The steam roiled around an average sized man wearing a leopard print vest, and with one of the longest beards Sam had ever seen.

“So, you can guarantee she will come back?”

A thinner man sat Indian style with his legs crossed at the knees. He looked like an officer worker, with a blue tie choking his white collar, and square framed spectacles balanced on his wide nose.

“You have my word,” the other man rumbled.

The office worker struggled to his feet, his joints audibly creaking as he did so. He reached his wallet and peeled off four notes and handed them over. The other man’s lips stretched in a wide grin.

“Thank you kindly,” he said.

He’s a piece of work, isn’t he?”

The voice was coming from inside Sam’s head.

“Refilwe?”

Hi, Sam.

Sam’s vision clouded again, and when he could see once more, he was in a white space. Refilwe stood in front of him, her copper-colored braids hanging over her eyes. Up close her could see the faded blue of her school shirt and wide slashes angling from her shoulder down to her hip. Red flesh was apparent beneath it, and would have made him hurl if not for the joy of seeing her.

“It’s you!” Sam said, embracing her in a big hug.

Refilwe stiffened in his arms. Sam noticing her discomfort pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Refilwe had her face tilted away from him.

“He used me rich boy. Used the poor girl to bring him more victims,” she said.

“Hey don’t call yourself that,” he said absentmindedly as he remembered the fanged creature that had sprang at him.

“What was that?” he whispered.

“A tokoloshe. A creature he’s bound to him, just like he’s bound you me, and every other slave tucked away on his shelves. He feeds off us.”

“Who is he?” Sam asked.

“A witch. They call him Costa.”

She drew her lips back to expose her teeth in a wordless snarl.

“He’s a monster, and he’s made me one too.”

Sam reached out and took hold of her chin.

“Hey now enough of that. What’s your plan? You obviously didn’t bring me here without having a plan,” Sam said confidently.

He could see her observing him closely.

“You’re not even upset, are you?” she breathed.

Sam gave her a weak smile.

“I’m obviously not thrilled to be dead, but there’s nothing I can do but to make the best of it,” he said.

“Typical you, always the optimistic one, but I’m glad you’re here, because none of the others have the strength to help. They’ve been here too long. What I need you to do is to focus on something you care about and if you can do that, we can destroy his altar, and cut him off from his power source,” she said.

“Something I care about?” he said.

“Yeah, like for me it’s crushing that monster. You have to find something like that for you, and when he summons that creature to go hunting again, we’ll have him.”

Refilwe pointed out the altar, a wooden idol of a woman with her palms up and sitting on a pedestal in a corner of the room.

“You have to move it with your mind once you gather up your will,” she said, while in the white space.

A little window had opened up to show them the world outside. Costa was tidying up in the hut, sweeping its floors and organizing clay jars while humming some odd song.

“Focus,” Refilwe said.

She pointed to the idol and it trembled. Her face was awash with sweat, and she seemed to visibly struggle to breathe.

“That’s why I need you,” she said.

Sam looked over to her and that at the man who had taken his life, and despite his promise to help her he found that he didn’t share her hate. At least not to the level that she did, so what could he use. Refilwe was biting her lip.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

“Is my mom okay?” she asked.

Sam paused. He thought for a moment.

“She wasn’t at first, but she’s doing better,” he said.

Refilwe turned to him, and seemed about to say something then took a deep breath and gave him a trembling smile.

“Thank you for lying just now,” she said.

Sam watched her stand there shaking but trying to be brave.

“She’s doing better, truly. There are people looking after her who care,” he said.

Refilwe nodded gratefully to him, and when she did Sam remembered how he had cried at her funeral. She had always been the popular one despite having far less, but she had always been there for him. Always checking up on him, and inviting him out even when her friends would complain. She had been the one to indulge his obsession with the cinema, even though she would have rather have done just about anything else. The idol trembled.

“I think I’ve found something I care about,” he said.

It took a week, but Costa finally summoned the tokoloshe. Sam had been following the flight of a fly around the room, when Refilwe hissed. Sam appeared back in their shared white space and she beckoned him to the floating window.

Costa had a rooster in his hands, and he casually broke its neck. He then used a knife to cut its breast and spill some of its blood into a pestle, and mixed it with a black powder before throwing the whole thing into the fire. Costa chanted and within minutes a creature took form in front of him. Sam flinched at the sight of its sloped head and slimy grey skin. It had long curved fangs and razor-sharp teeth, and a small simian snout.

Costa petted the tokoloshe then turned to Refilwe’s marionette.

“It’s your turn now,” he said.

“Now. Now Sam!” Refilwe said.

The two them raised their hand to the idol and pulled in opposite directions with their wills, breaking the idol apart. The piece shot across the room, and skinned Costa’s cheek. Ignoring the blood, he stared at the broken idol in disbelief. At his side the tokoloshe growled, and hearing the sound Costa’s face seemed to grow increasingly pale.

“No, please. Don’t,” he said backing away towards the door.

The tokoloshe leapt forward blocking his escape, and exposed its teeth in a savage grin. Costa screamed, and Sam turned away from the slaughter behind him. It took seconds for the creature to rip Costa apart and when it was done its form wavered then vanished once more. Sam looked at where it had been and then at Refilwe who also seemed to waver.

“Refilwe? What’s going on?” he asked.

“With my revenge complete, I’m moving on,” she said.

Sam was speechless. He was losing her again. Refilwe solidified for a moment then reached out her hand.

“Come with me,” she said.

Sam looked at the hut, and thought about his family for the first time since the whole ordeal began. He knew he couldn’t go back to them, but he felt he’d see them again someday, and what lay ahead didn’t look so bad. Sam took her hand, and followed her lead.