Country & Ethnic
There he stood, my grandmother's Spirit Man. He came up to my thigh, carved out of wood so dark it was almost black—wearing a scowl and a ring through his nose and a grass skirt that should have looked silly but didn't. He looked angry and strong and mean. I tried to swallow, but my throat was too dry.
The conductor picked his way down the aisle, collecting fares, making change and giving tickets.
"All the way to Machakos?" he asked Kioko's grandfather.
"Yes, to the end."
"Eighteen shillings for two."
"Eighteen?" his grandfather asked. "He is so small, you should only charge half the fare for him."
"He is small. If you want a cheaper fare, we can tie his feet together like the chickens and put him on the roof."
For a moment, Kioko thought they were serious, but then the men laughed.
