FICTION/EROTICA/PEACE CORPS
The Maanumba
A supernatural thriller set in Cameroon, part 2 of 3
Martin left the Texas Bar after the story and another beer. They parted angry. Martin calling it again superstitious garbage. John Baptiste countered by calling him a typical, arrogant white man, no better than the French, believing the whites knew all the answers. Though they parted with heated words, Martin knew that, like many Cameroonians, his friend was quick to explode but quicker to make amends. In the meantime, he had work to do.
It took two trips on his Yamaha, hauling his few possessions in his expedition pack. He fought his way through the forest of weeds he endearingly called the Triffids. Immediately he broke off the window boards, letting in the sunlight. African weapons and masks, a large head of a water buffalo and a little head of a duiker adorned the walls of the large living room. The several paintings of European landscapes seemed out of place, but no doubt it was an attempt of Fontainbleu to bring some of Europe into a land he did not like.
