Buck Threatened to Kill Us March 24
“Who the fuck is Buck?“ asks the querulous science teacher. Everyone else in the faculty Cave apparently knows already.
Buck has been around for a very long time. My student Nikkia’s grandmother recalls seeing him many years ago. Last night he appeared yet again, and vanished, this time in the home of Krishna Mathura, in the the bush town of Gasparillo, in the belly of the remote Central Range. The intruder reportedly has been hanging around the house for seven months, and Krishna’s wife Balmatta is terrified.
Their son Govinda had his leg slashed in the latest incident, in which a sausage was stolen, goats were poisoned, and Krishna’s valuable racing pigeons were eaten raw. Money has disappeared. Last week the living room tablecloth flew out the window. The television, stove, and refrigerator have been secured to walls with rope.
“He wanted sex,“ Balmatta testifies.
Oui Foute! Oui Papa! What madness!
The husband Krishna only recently learned of these paranormal assaults. Balmatta was too afraid to tell. When Krishna decided to retire, he started to see Buck as well, and he sought help from Pastor Deena Ramnarine of the Christ Crusaders Assembly, to save his home, his marriage, and his son’s life. Ramnarine concluded that the Mathura family is facing a demonic attack from a Buka, commonly called Buck, a supernatural creature bearing the African name for El Chapo, Shorty in English, who teleports through space and time, on tiptoes, and raises hell with backward hands.
Govinda had a good look, and more:
“He is a short fat man with a fat face, big hair and big ears. He doesn't walk on his foot. He walks on his toes. His left hand is on his right side and his right side is on his left. He does cuss me. A few days ago he came with a match to burn down my father's car. Most times he is invisible but I could hear his voice. He follows us. When I pass a corner in the house, I hear 'oye, oye’.“
The family has summoned several exorcists and created a menagerie of horned idols to ward the thing away, exhausting resources, all to no apparent effect:
"We tried everything, we burn incense, googool, sprinkle salt, garlic, red lavender. We called the pundit and the pastor. They told us it is a buck. This thing distressing us. We cannot sleep. Every night we hearing banging. It loves to wake us up. Every time we can hear it through the cracks in the house saying 'oye.'"
Govinda has a recording of Buck, which he has shared with the public, against the wishes of his mother. My class insists on listening. The voice in the recording whistles and meows before speaking, in a low creole rasp: "If is one thing I won't do is lie to you. I carry it by the boss and he tell me bring it back before I get in trouble. I doh fraid Pundit Ramesh, and I doh fraid no pastor.”
The most remarkable part of this Buck story is that all three city papers find it front-page newsworthy, with barely a whiff of skepticism or alternative explanation. African spiritualism fairly thrives, particularly in rural provinces, where it is commonly accepted that three-foot, misshapen Jumbies grant wishes, deliver fortunes, haunt attics, and make unreasonable demands for blood, milk, and, in this case, sex from Krishna’s wife. A few locals have suggested that some land dispute may have prompted a masquerade, Skooby-Doo style. If someone is trying to scare the Mathura’s off their property, it may just work. Even the clergyman is nervous:
"I have encountered things like that because I worked in the interior of Guyana. I have seen a buck in Guyana so I believe them. We cannot be afraid of it. We have to take authority and the Lord delivers. The buck will usually beat up the house, whistle at them. You will see things flying all over the room. It will take time for it to leave but they have to stop playing with it by talking about it and talking to it. Just ignore it and call to Jesus for deliverance.“
Jesus was called. He has no comment for this story.