The Misadventures of Khadijah: Creek's Rock

Little Khadijah always has a knack of finding trouble...or trouble finding her.

Jul 14, 2024

“Grandma says they used to be bad humans, so God cursed them to live as beasts in the next life.”

Children were starting to go missing. This was the unsettling news Khadijah heard from her older sister upon arriving with her baby brother, Jaye, at their grandmother’s village. Salmana, her sister, had been staying with their grandmother for almost a year, helping the elderly woman with chores around her four-room hut.

“Salmana is doing everything for her grandmother. She’s even quieter than before, if you can believe it.” Khadijah’s father, Ballou, would smirk upon hearing this from those who had visited his mother-in-law’s village. However, that smirk never lasted long. “She’s definitely not like your other daughter. Ehhhh Ballou, Khadijah knows how to talk.” This was no compliment to Ballou. Each time he heard such remarks, it felt like a slap in the face. He hated the reputation Khadijah had garnered as a talker, a babbler, and the fact that she was proud of it. In his mind, from birth to adulthood, a woman was not supposed to talk much, let alone be known for it. The behavior of Ballou’s wife and eldest daughter, Salmana, reinforced this belief: silent and submissive. Khadijah’s defiance of this ideal womanhood kept Ballou up at night. Her misadventure with the wool blanket only exacerbated his worry. A talkative girl was a stain on Ballou’s household and, most importantly, his reputation. He felt he needed to do something about it, and fast, before Khadijah began her inevitable climb towards womanhood.

Salmana had been his first experiment and a successful one at that. The news that his eldest daughter was even quieter than before sounded like music to Ballou’s ears. How much quieter could the already introverted girl be? Could she now be a mute? To Ballou, a mute was preferable to a talker, and he would choose the former any day when it came to his daughters. “That stone-heart woman can tame anyone. Not even an angry bull can stop her.” Ballou would happily remark to his friends about his mother-in-law’s prowess in discipline, especially in rearing the unruly.

With his eldest daughter considered a success, Ballou implemented his plan to send Khadijah to her grandmother’s village to stay with the elderly woman as long as necessary to get the job done. He had already sent word to the elderly woman and arranged everything. She would be expecting and accommodating her granddaughter, Khadijah, and her five-year-old grandson, Jaye. Jaye was an additional piece to ensure the plan’s success, keeping Khadijah preoccupied and less likely to put two and two together. His daughter was not just a talker, but also incredibly bright and quick to pick up on things. If he had only sent her to her grandmother, she might have uncovered his plan and become rebellious, making it harder for the elderly woman to handle. Ballou trusted his mother-in-law’s disciplinarian prowess, but knew she had never encountered anyone like his headstrong daughter, named after his own mother, who was also reputedly headstrong, though not a talker.

“What do you mean they are missing?” Khadijah asked, wide-eyed, after arriving and settling into their grandmother’s hut. She was lying on a cot bed prepared for her and Jaye in Salmana’s room. However, Jaye had chosen to sleep with Salmana in her bed.

“Shush,” Salmana said, placing a finger to her lips. “You’ll wake Grandma and the baby.” She looked down, smiling as she pinched the cheek of a snoring Jaye, who was nestled against her chest, peacefully sucking his thumb. The little boy had slept through most of the three-day journey via a compact cab-over truck to the village, so his continued sleepiness was no surprise.

Khadijah glanced at her baby brother and shook her head. “Little devil,” she said under her breath, before laying her head back down on the pillow and closing her eyes. Her sister had been away from home for far too long, so much so that she had seemingly forgotten who was sleeping next to her. Jaye was no cute, quiet baby. He was a whirlwind of trouble: someone Khadijah had to constantly watch and battle with like cats and dogs. In the coming days, her sister would quickly remember who that “baby” sucking his thumb really was. She would have her hands full, eventually putting an end to him sharing her bed.

The next morning, Khadijah was roused before dawn by Salmana’s gentle but insistent shaking. Bleary-eyed, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The room was still cloaked in darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of a lantern Salmana held.

“Time to get up,” Salmana said in a whisper. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Khadijah reluctantly crawled out of the cot, shivering in the early morning chill. She glanced over at Jaye, who was still sound asleep, his thumb secure in his mouth. Salmana led her out of the room and into the main area of their grandmother’s hut, where the woman was already up and preparing breakfast over a small fire.

Khadijah let out a loud yawn, prompting a sharp side-eye from her grandmother, followed by a disapproving click of her tongue. Salmana noticed and quickly intervened to diffuse any tension. “Come, let’s eat. We need to start work soon.” Their grandmother, a stern woman who took no nonsense and rarely smiled, nodded in agreement, her eyes fixed on the little girl who needed taming.

After a simple breakfast of mint tea and a piece of buttered baguette, and after performing their morning prayers, the duo set out. Salmana wasted no time introducing Khadijah to the day’s chores. First, they swept the hut, the sound of straw brooms scraping against the floor echoing in the morning's stillness. Then, they moved to the garden, weeding and tending to the fruits and vegetables. The sun had just begun to rise when they joined the laborers in the fields, helping with the backbreaking work of farming.

Khadijah’s arms quickly grew sore and numb from the relentless labor. Sweat dripped down her face, and her muscles ached, but she didn’t complain. Her mind remained too preoccupied with the missing children her sister had mentioned the night before.

“Do you know what happened to them?” Khadijah asked as they worked, her voice hushed.

Salmana shook her head. “Not now. We’ll talk after dinner, when the work is done.”

The hours dragged on. They fetched water from the creek, carrying heavy jugs back to the hut. They gathered firewood from the outskirts of the forest, a task that seemed to take forever as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

Throughout the day, Khadijah couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Salmana’s eyes darted around constantly, and she kept a tight grip on a cutlass she carried with her.

By the time the sun set, Khadijah was exhausted. Her entire body ached, and she could barely lift her arms. Still, she pushed through, driven by her curiosity about the missing children.

As they made their last trip to fetch water from the creek, Khadijah noticed Salmana’s heightened paranoia. Her sister’s gaze flickered to the shadows, and she kept Jaye close, her grip on the cutlass tightening with every rustle in the bushes.

“They are watching us,” Salmana said quietly, her voice tense. “They would take him if they could.”

Khadijah’s heart skipped a beat. “Who’s watching us?”

Salmana’s eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of fear and determination. “We’ll talk about it after dinner. Just stay close and keep an eye on the baby.”

The rest of the walk back to the hut was silent and eerie. Khadijah’s mind raced with questions, but she held them back, waiting for the moment when they could finally sit down and talk. As they approached the hut, she glanced at Jaye, who seemed blissfully unaware of the tension around him.

Dinner that night was a simple affair, the family eating in near silence. Khadijah could hardly focus on the food, her mind buzzing with anticipation. After they finished the meal and cleared the dishes, Salmana led her outside, away from their grandmother’s earshot.

“What about the missing children?” Khadijah asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

Salmana took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the surrounding darkness. “It’s not just children going missing,” she said. “It’s the chimpanzees in the forest. They take those who stray too far from the village. The young and weak, especially.”

Khadijah shivered, a chill running down her spine. “Chimpanzees?”

Salmana nodded and proceeded to tell Khadijah about the village of chimpanzees that lived in the forest among them. Long before any humans, the chimpanzees ruled the area and the entire surrounding forest. They were the top predators. Village folklore talked about how the chimpanzees were much bigger, stronger, and more numerous back then, possessing the capabilities to hunt larger predators such as lions and leopards until they were no more. In time, humans, including their ancestors, took over the area and displaced the chimpanzees, but they did not go away so easily. There were often violent and deadly clashes between the two, and enmity existed to this day.

Salmana recounted recent reports of a gang of chimpanzees assaulting a girl a little older than her as she walked home on the narrow forested trail one evening. The chimpanzees were notorious for hurling rocks at people who trekked up a steep hill not too far from their village. However, the most serious and concerning reports were of the missing children and an elderly man with forgetfulness in their village. The cases all bore the same striking resemblance: a little child, all by their lonesome, around Jaye’s age and a little older, close to Khadijah’s age, heading towards the direction of the creek and never coming back.

The case of the elderly man with forgetfulness was a little tricky, as nobody knew which direction he went before disappearing. However, the direction he went did not matter, as everybody assumed the chimpanzees had gotten to him, likely ripping him to pieces.

The most recent case was of a woman in the village who was washing clothes in the creek and had sat her 8-month-old down for only a moment, only to find out that the baby had disappeared. Her case was the most gut-wrenching in the village as everybody loved the cute little boy. Salmana even had fed, bathed, and held him in her arms. The case was the last straw, and plans were being made for the men in the village to form a hunting party and hunt down the chimpanzees in the immediate vicinity, eliminating them outright or pushing them deeper into the forest as far as possible from the village. However, such plans were on hold because of a severe drought to contend with. Thus, in the meantime, they advised that all little children in the village, from Khadijah’s age and below, must have an adult accompanying them at all times or an older sibling.

“Cursed creatures,” Salmana said. “Grandma says they used to be bad humans, so God cursed them to live as beasts in the next life. That’s why they hate us so much.”

Khadijah swallowed hard. She glanced at Jaye, nestled in Salmana’s arms, his eyelids fluttering as he began to doze off.

Salmana caught her looking at him. “One thing for sure, they real and wicked. We have to watch the baby. That’s why I have mi knife.” She grabbed her cutlass, holding it out. The old blade, marred with nicks and scratches, had a dull, gray patina. The worn leather hilt showed heavy use, molded to her grip. It wavered slightly as she held it, a testament to its weight and her familiarity with it.

The flickering lantern light cast long shadows, and Khadijah’s eyes darted around the darkened surroundings, lingering on every rustle and movement. The missing children, the chimpanzees, the constant vigilance—it all painted a terrifying picture.

“Look, I’m not telling you this to scare you,” Salmana said, noticing Khadijah’s eyes. “Or do I have to watch you like a baby?”

“I am not a baby!” Khadijah shouted, shaking her head vehemently. Being called that “b” word was something she despised, especially coming from her eldest sister. She prided herself on being mature and capable, even more so than Salmana. For Jaye’s sake and her own, she resolved to bury her fears, keep her eyes wide open, and stay alert.

Salmana chuckled. “Okay, okay, big girl. Just make sure you don’t come crawling into my bed at night.”

“I would never. You don’t come crawling into my bed.” As she said this, Khadijah still felt the chill in her spine. These fears would not be so easy to bury.

For the next few days, Khadijah worked tirelessly alongside her sister, completing their daily chores. To her grandmother’s surprise, she never uttered a single complaint or refused any task. From dawn to dusk, Khadijah, the girl deemed restless and in need of taming according to her father, now toiled diligently. Though, her eyes never ceased scanning their surroundings, particularly focused on Jaye, surpassing even Salmana in vigilance over his activities and wanderings.

The nights were the most challenging for Khadijah. As she lay on her cot with Jaye, exhausted from his day’s adventures, beside her, her senses stayed on high alert. The nocturnal sounds of the forest filled her with dread. She imagined the relentless screams of chimpanzees, imagining them delighting in the torment of their latest young victim. Desperately, she tried to block out the sounds and her terrifying thoughts. Briefly, she succeeded, but as soon as she drifted into sleep, nightmares took hold.

One particularly harrowing nightmare ripped her from sleep with a scream. In the dream, apes unexpectedly overran the village. The villagers, caught off guard, scattered in every direction. Khadijah stood frozen in horror as the chimpanzees tore through the huts, their powerful limbs smashing everything in their path. She frantically searched for Salmana and their grandmother but couldn’t find them amidst the chaos and the screams of fleeing villagers.

Then she saw them: a group of chimpanzees dragging Jaye away. He was kicking and screaming, his small fists pounding against his captors. Khadijah’s legs moved on their own, pushing her forward in a desperate attempt to save her brother.

“Jaye!” she cried out, her voice breaking. “Jaye, I’m coming!”

Before she could reach him, a gang of stragglers turned and blocked her path. Their dark, malevolent eyes locked onto hers. They smiled, revealing long, yellowed fangs, and advanced slowly, savoring the fear in her eyes.

Khadijah backed away, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked around for an escape but found none. The apes closed in, their muscles rippling under coarse black fur. She saw the cruel intent in their eyes, the anticipation of the pain they were about to inflict.

One of them suddenly lunged at her.

Khadijah jolted awake, her scream echoing in the silent night. She bolted upright, drenched in sweat, her heart racing. Beside her, Jaye slept on, snoring like a pig.

Salmana stirred from her cot across the room, her eyes heavy with sleep but alert nonetheless. “Bad dream?”

Khadijah nodded, unable to find her voice. The nightmare’s vivid images were still fresh in her mind.

“Want to sleep in my bed?”

Khadijah felt a wave of relief and was about to move over Jaye to take up her sister’s offer. But then she glimpsed the faint smirk forming on her sister’s lips and knew instantly what the girl was thinking. “I thought you said you were a big girl and would never crawl into my bed.”

Realizing this, Khadijah abruptly changed her mind. “No, I am fine,” she said a little too loudly.

A voice, groggy with sleep, groaned from the other side of the hut. “Salmana, shut that girl up. If I get up from my bed, it won’t be good for the two of you.”

Khadijah lay back down quickly, her heart still pounding. She stared at the ceiling, wide awake, the nightmare replaying in her mind. She could still see the dark, malevolent eyes of the chimpanzees, hear their cruel laughter, and feel the desperate need to save Jaye.

She did not sleep that entire night, nor did she sleep well in the days that followed. The nightmare lingered, a constant shadow in her mind, fueling her vigilance and deepening her resolve to protect her little brother at all costs.

Eventually, Khadijah stopped having nightmares altogether. However, their cessation did not bring peace; instead, they were replaced by a deep-seated fear that would last her entire lifetime. Two incidents, one at the creek and another involving the wool blanket, unleashed this pervasive dread, ensuring she would never willingly go near any natural body of water again.

The incident at the creek occurred one late Saturday morning. The weather was blisteringly hot, and all the children in the village decided that a swim in the nearby creek would be a welcome relief. Khadijah and Salmana were given the day off from chores by their grandmother. This wasn’t so much a gesture of kindness as it was a necessity; the extreme heat had made work impossible for all.

Following breakfast and a quick sweep around the hut, the trio—Khadijah, Salmana, and Jaye—eagerly joined the other children heading to the creek. Salmana, armed with her cutlass, was one of the chaperones, along with a group of older teenagers. They were tasked with keeping an eye on the younger children, ensuring they didn’t wander into the surrounding forest or, worse, get taken by the chimpanzees.

Upon arriving at the creek, the children immediately jumped into the water, reveling in the cool, refreshing respite from the oppressive heat. Khadijah swam alongside Salmana, both enjoying the water while the older girl kept a vigilant eye on everyone.

Jaye, however, chose not to swim. Instead, he sat on what appeared to be a large rock by the creek, shaded by a tree, happily eating a tangerine. Khadijah watched him, amused by how he savored the fruit, his legs swinging joyfully.

“Sit still, silly boy!” Khadijah called out.

Jaye laughed and yelled back, “I am still!”

Khadijah continued to observe him, flummoxed by what she was seeing. Despite hardly moving, the boy seemed to rise up and down. “Jaye, sit still! Stop moving your legs!” she shouted again.

Jaye obeyed, but he still rose and fell on the rock, despite now being almost completely motionless. Khadijah’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the scene. Suddenly, her heart froze. What she had thought was a rock began to take a more pronounced and ominous shape. A shape that was the coiled body of a massive serpent, its dark green and spotted scales blending seamlessly with the surrounding verdure environment.

Khadijah’s breath caught in her throat. She tapped Salmana’s shoulder frantically, pointing towards Jaye.

At first, Salmana didn’t understand. But as she focused on the rock and what Khadijah was pointing at, her eyes widened in horror. “Snake!” she screamed, pointing at the serpent.

The scream set off a chain reaction. Children and chaperones alike shrieked in terror and began to flee towards home.

Panic surged through Khadijah. She had to save Jaye. The serpent’s coils shifted slightly, revealing more of its massive body. But before she could scramble out of the water and sprint towards him, the boy was already on the run. The moment Salmana uttered that diabolical word for his small ears to hear, Jaye understood.

He had suspected that the rock was no ordinary rock when he first plopped his behind on it. Rocks were never this smooth and slippery, not like this one, which felt as if he could slide right off. Rocks didn’t have deep, throbbing veins that felt like sitting on restless streams surging beneath the surface. And more than anything, rocks didn’t snore—heavy, monstrous sounds that reverberated through his small frame.

Jaye was the first to take off, sprinting far ahead of everyone at the creek. He ran until his lungs burned, not stopping until he reached the village. Later, the sight of his frantic dash would become a source of entertainment for Khadijah and Salmana, who would recount the tale to family, friends, and acquaintances. They would vividly describe how he had leaped into the air upon hearing Salmana’s scream, his legs kicking wildly before his feet finally hit the ground, propelling him into a full-speed escape. It was an hilarious part of the story that always left them laughing until their bellies hurt. However, at the time, it was no laughing matter.

Breathless and wide-eyed, Jaye, Khadijah and Salmana, and the other children sprinted back to the village, recounting their terrifying encounter with the serpent at the creek. The elders in the village quickly gathered, and the men, armed with shotguns, cutlasses, and pickaxes, set out immediately.

When they reached the creek, the serpent was nowhere to be found. They combed through the surrounding brush, scouring every inch of the area, but the creature had vanished without a trace. What they did find, however, broke the spirit of even the toughest among them: scattered remains of cattle hooves and horns, and most distressing of all, fragments of multiple human skulls and teeth.

Realization dawned on the men. They debated among themselves, voices rising in heated arguments, nearly to the point of blows. Some demanded to hunt down the creature and avenge their losses. Ultimately, though, practicality won out.

“That’s what God says,” some conceded, accepting the harsh reality. With a harvest-destroying drought threatening starvation, they had urgent work to do and couldn’t afford a wild goose chase after such a creature: a creature known for its stealth.

Yet, not everyone could let it go, particularly the men who had lost small children. They set traps around the creek and spent many nights and their resting days stalking the area, hoping to catch sight of the serpent. But the creature remained elusive, a phantom that slipped through their fingers time and again. No one ever laid eyes on it again.

Months passed, and the villagers moved on, the entire ordeal gradually fading from their collective memory. The routines of daily life resumed, and the serpent became a distant, dark memory.

Then, news arrived from neighboring villages along the banks of the main river.

Children and cattle were starting to go missing, too.