man who was making people’s heads get chopped off.
“He asked me what did I mean,” Sly continued, “and I said I had seen that picture of the man’s head on a stick in your papers. My uncle always told me that if you see someone with his head cut off, it means a juju man or a witch is punishing him for doing something wrong. So I thought you were going to Takoradi to find the juju man who did it. I’m sorry I made Hosiah cry. I didn’t know he would get scared.”
“He’s not as tough as you,” Dawson said, lifting Sly’s chin to hold his gaze. “He’s your little brother, so you have to think before you tell him certain things. Now I know your uncle used to tell you about witches and juju and all that, but you mustn’t believe him. You remember last year when those people from Agbogbloshie were killed? Juju didn’t make that happen. Murder never happens because of juju. It’s just a man or a woman who gets so angry, jealous, or greedy, that he or she wants to kill another person. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Now I made a mistake too. I’m not supposed to leave my work around the house because Mama and I don’t want you and Hosiah to be looking at that kind of thing. I’m sorry you saw it, but you have to remember that when you see anything in the house belonging to Mama or me, you leave it alone. You don’t go into our business unless we tell you to, you hear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Come here.” Dawson brought Sly close and put his arms around him. “You know Mama and I love you and Hosiah both the same, right?”
He nodded. “You’re not going to beat me?”
“No. That wouldn’t make you learn your lesson any better, would it?”
Sly thought about that for a moment and then shook his head.
“You still need to do something, though,” Dawson said. “You need to go to Hosiah and hug him and say you love him and you’re sorry you scared him.”
“Okay,” Sly said happily, his zest for life restored. He made a dash for the backdoor of the house.
“But don’t hug him too hard,” Dawson added. “Remember, his chest is still sore.”
Gazing at the door long after Sly had disappeared through it, a thought struck him and he smiled. The boy had more insight than he probably even realized.
IN THEIR BEDROOM with the door shut, Christine insisted that Dawson show her the picture that had caused all the trouble.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s terrible.”
“I know it’s terrible, but I have to know what we’re dealing with.”
Reluctantly, he opened the folder and extracted the photo. She looked at it for not more than a second, gasped, and turned her head away.
