Before electricity reached his village, Glenroy was sent to the shop late one night to buy bread and brown sugar.

At a bend in the road, surrounded by forested hills, darkness swallowed him whole.

From a trumpet tree came a cry:

“Whooooo!”

Terrified, Glenroy replied politely, explaining who he was and why he was there. The sound returned louder.

He ran.

He ran so fast he didn’t notice when his toenail tore clean off. Blood soaked his foot. The shopkeeper had to bandage him.

Duppies, they said, didn’t always kill.

Sometimes, they just marked you.