Roots_ The Saga of an American Family - Alex Haley [71]
Kunta’s next thought hit him so hard it made him leap right up out of bed: As a man now, he could take Lamin along, as his father had once taken him. For the next hour Kunta paced the dirt floor of his hut, his mind wrestling with the questions raised by this exciting thought. First of all, would Omoro permit such a trip for Lamin, who was yet a boy and thus required his father’s approval? It galled Kunta enough, as a man, to have to ask permission for anything, but suppose Omoro said no? And how would his three new friends feel about it if he showed up with his little brother?
Come to think of it, Kunta wondered why he was pacing the floor, and risking serious embarrassment, just to do a favor for Lamin. After all, ever since he had returned from manhood training, Lamin hadn’t even been that close to him any more. But Kunta knew that this wasn’t something that either of them wanted. They had really enjoyed each other before Kunta went away. But now Lamin’s time was taken up by Suwadu, who was always hanging around his bigger brother in the same way that Lamin used to hang around Kunta, full of pride and admiration. But Kunta felt that Lamin had never quit feeling that way about him. If anything, he felt that Lamin admired his big brother even more than before. It was just that some kind of distance had come between them because of his having become a man. Men simply spent no great deal of time with boys; and even if that wasn’t as he and Lamin wanted it, there just seemed no way for either of them to crack through it—until Kunta thought of taking Lamin along on his gold-hunting trip.
“Lamin is a good boy. He displays his home training well. And he takes good care of my goats,” was Kunta’s opening comment to Omoro, for Kunta knew that men almost never began conversations directly with what they meant to discuss. Omoro, of course, knew this, too. He nodded slowly and replied: “Yes, I would say that is true.” As calmly as he could, Kunta then told his father of meeting his three new friends and of their invitation to join them in hunting for gold. Taking a deep breath, Kunta said finally, “I’ve been thinking that Lamin might enjoy the trip.”
Omoro’s face showed not a flicker of expression. A long moment passed before he spoke. “For a boy to travel is good,” he said—and Kunta knew that his father was at least not going to say no absolutely. In some way, Kunta could feel his father’s trust in him, but also his concern, which he knew Omoro didn’t want to express any more strongly than he had to. “It has been rains since I’ve had any travel in that area. I seem not to remember that trail’s route very well,” said Omoro, as casually as if they were merely discussing the weather. Kunta knew that his father—whom Kunta had never known to forget anything—was trying to find out if he knew the route to the gold-hunting place.
Dropping onto his knees in the dust, Kunta drew the trail with a stick as if he had known it for years. He drew circles to show the villages that were both near the trail and at some distance from it along the way. Omoro got down onto his knees as well, and when Kunta had finished drawing the trail, said, “I would go so as to pass close by the most villages. It will take a little longer, but it will be the safest.”
Kunta nodded, hoping that he appeared more confident than he suddenly felt. The thought hit him that though the three friends he had met, traveling together, could catch each other’s mistakes—if they made any—he, traveling with a younger brother for whom he would be responsible, would have no one to help if something went wrong.
Then Kunta saw Omoro’s finger circling the last third of the trail. “In this area, few