In the middle of Guyana as you travel south, in the beautiful savanna east of the Rupunumi River rests the expanse of land referred to the by locals as the Kanhai Jandhi. Tucked away into the Jandhi, at it’s center, is the homestead known as the Madhya. Our story continues a short distance from the Madhya on a small, dirt airstrip whose only navigational aids appear to be a large palm tree painted orange and a soaked, poncho-wearing middle-aged man standing on the hood of a pick-up waving his hands. Both man and tree are straining against the force of the wind. |  |
After the plane completes its landing and sort taxi off the runway it comes to a stop near the aforementioned pickup truck. By the time the party descended the stairs the owner of the truck had climbed down from the hood to meet the new arrivals. As the team approached he was struggling against the wind to close an unruly button on his poncho in a valiant attempt to remain dry. Upon completing the buttoning task the dark skinned man sprouted a wide grin as recognition spread across his face. “Keyby Kan! Keyby Kan! Des dat cho!?” The exclaimed, and quickly approached Kirby as the two exchanged a long embrace. “Moo moo take mes, des eyes know Keyby Kan anywheres. My my my my, jos fam be needy of som sunshine now now. Ayes bes happy happy to see yous, Keyby Kan! “ Kirby managed to add “Uncle Rafi, des great great to see you too.” Rafi trailed off as they broke the embrace, the man seemed to remember Kirby was not alone. “Whos bes des men?” He asked, but continued before Kirby could answer, “Oh never be mind. Ayes a moo moo if jo family not not see you. Gets in des yota” He then worked with the team to get their gear loaded into the back of the faded red, 4 door, Toyota pickup. All gear was stowed into the bed of the pick-up which they covered with a tarp for the short drive. As they crammed into the truck Kirby took the spot up front to the left of the driver, right behind the floor-mounted stick shift. He pulled up his legs to allow Rafi room to operate the truck. Seated this way there was room for another of the team to sit to his left with three relatively comfortable seats for the others in the second row. |  |
 |
They followed a well packed gravel road north from the airport and up a shallow rise. Upon cresting the rise the lush rainforest of this portion of Guyana came into view ahead and to their east. To the west the view opened up to miles and miles of savanna. On a clear day you could see all the way to Brazil some 40 miles away. Less than a mile down the road they veered right and entered the forest. A few hundred meters later the road made a slight left turn and their destination began to come within sight. They crossed a deep muddy creek by way of a short stone and timber bridge that appeared to be just wide enough for a large truck to cross. Just across the bridge the road came to a cross roads. To the left the road followed the creek past 10 or more brightly colored houses of varying size and shape before coming to an end near the banks of a small pond. To the right the road continued further into the forest after passing by several bright red bunk houses and a few other out-buildings. |  |
 |
 |
Her name in this life was Elizabeth Elise Alnwick Grey Kanhai, known as Eh-eh to many of the Madya and was loved by many in the little village. She was loved by many around the world. Eh-eh had been in a coma for three days which caused her beloved husband to make an important and rare phone call to a very old friend. Elsi sat on the bed next to her delving into her teacher's body trying to heal the illness, but for all of her power, all that she had learned from Elizabeth Grey, all of the knowledge that had been handed down to her, this thing that affected her was beyond her means. "Edmund, it is a curse, of the strongest magic I have felt, I feel it is tied to the land. I sensed something wrong when we landed; I think it is why Jon has had to break up so many hurricanes, why the weather has been so bad. I think it is a sign, a plague, she is being affected by an omen." "Can it come on this fast...are you sure...we're not ready Elsi, we need more time," Edmund's voice was tense. "Kirby doesn't even know where...what...what he's looking for." "It is going to have to come from you or Jon now, Elizabeth won't be waking up if we can't figure out what is happening, or what we are dealing with. All I can do for her is keep her pain down and keep her drinking water. She is going to need another host soon or we will loose her. If what she told us about the end coming, we don't have time at all. The outside door flew in with a crash as JonKae flew in wet and soaking, shirt torn breathing heavily. He was moving urgently, skidding to a halt at the door, the wind behind him was fierce. He was out of breath and tired, new lines of worry and weeks with battling hurricane and storm after hurricane and storm were taking its horrible toll on the older gentleman. Not to mention the fear he had for his wife. The fact that he had brought these outsiders to his home was evidence of his desperation. "A plane has flown in through the storm and landed on our strip, I think it is Kirby and the group you told us about!" Jon said breathing heavy and holding on to the banister by the door. Edmund stood up from the chair he was sitting in, hopeful, anxious and fearful. "Jon, he doesn't know about us, I haven't had the chance to tell him, I tried weeks ago in my study, but, he knows nothing." Elizabeth was pale and breathing shallow, her body was almost gone, but she had retreated inside saving her strength, waiting...searching...soul searching. With a gasp of air and surge of strength she bolted up right grabbing Elsi's arm. She looked blankly in the direction of JonKae. Her voice was not her own, as if two voices spoke as one, "He's here, finally, he's here. My son is here!" The three people looked at each other waiting...Jon was the most confused, her son had been dead for years. |  |
The group rode in silence taking in the surrounding area, the new sights and the roar of the hurricane envigerated everyone in the old Toyota pick-up truck. There were men running around trying to secure live stock as the hurricane seemed to be picking up here at the Kanhae Jahndi, its full force had not been seen. It felt like a huge storm. As the group pulled up to the "Big House" a man waited on the front steps smoking a cigar. | |
He was known only as "The Bostonian." His identity was no longer found on any data base in the world, a true "black agent" he was known only in a very small circle. His claim to fame was the assassination of Kennedy, not the murder, but the part he had played in the role. The man shot in the car that day wasn't John F. Kennedy, but none other than the Bostonian. Kennedy had been murdered days earlier and the grassy knoll fiasco was the governments attempt at the public assassination. Now retired, he spent most of his days as his wife's confidant and body guard. He had a gruff personality that did not lend itself well to being around most people. The group pulled up to the house and saw the man's cigar blazing,"Hey Kid," his voice was rough and gravely. He seemed amused at the new arrival. |  |
Hey, Jr., you gonna haff to wait heer. Nobody goes in the house yet," The Bostonian said with a cute smirk and stepped to the middle of the stairs up to the porch with his hands in his pockets. Puffing on his cigar made his eyes glow strangely. "Hey no disrespect, but you're grandmother can't have company right now, Dead-Eyes' orders" he said in a thick Boston accent, and gave Kirby a knowing bow of the head. | |