The Lazarus Collection

By Mary Alff

Kimmi Jambo has recieved an instant telegram from Heidi Löwentrapp.It's stamped by an invisible Post Office in Hamburg that is connected to Heidi's house by an enchnted wall. Heidi asks Kimmi to help her find Lazarus, who she believes has survived a devastating plane crash just before the coast of Mombasa. She thinks Lazarus is the only one who know why she does not have relatives like everyone else. Looking at the behavoiur of the magic stamps Heidi has sent him, Kimmi is sure Heidi is no ordinary girl from around the block! The Postamt 13, is not only a fascinating stamp, but it is a portal that leads directly to Heidi's street, when he scans it with his Philatelist's glass. Kimmi lets his siblings accompany him on these uncharterd waters. Sara is sensitive and critical, Tony tags along and lets his tummy rule, while Kimmi uses his gift to see the invisible, which gives him an upper hand in seeking and recapturing dangerous restless stamps that have acquired physical form. He puts them in a huge Stamp Album, which he is forced to buy at an open air market behind Nairobi's largest slum, as an angry mob chases after him. Kimmi Jambo  becomes very suspicious when a mysterious uncle that neither their best friend Greta nor her parents have ever met before, appears on the scene, just as the spooky Mystic Fortunes, a shop where people can buy life-long dreams, open's on the 3rd Long avenue. Kimmi knows things aren't what they seem  when he sees his football coach exchange his beloved golden teeth for an outrageous hairdo.The shopkeeper happens to be Coldfist, a stamp that wants to live forever, and who has the blood of Johannes   Löwentrapp the very first Philatelist on his hands, and is ready to kill again! Lazarus, who  is stowed upon a shelf in Kimmi's room wakes  up one night from his deathly slumber and warns Kimmi of Coldfist's plans. The black crow that has been sitting on his windowsill watching him these past weeks is actually the enchanted creature that almost got him stoned at the  marketplace. He is however, very pleased that the huge, grime crusted stamp album he'd bought so unwillingly should be linked to the mysterious demise of Johannes Löwentrapp. Lazarus is ancient, intelligent and worth a great fortune. He has seen how commited Kimmi has been putting him together again. He knows he can trust him, and because the boy can read the invisible instructions in him, together they can catch Coldfist before he hurts Heidi. He can hardly wait to see the evil stamp put in his rightful place, within  his translucent pages for good, like he promised the first Philatelist and he will keep his word. When Greta goes missing and reappears days later on Kimmi's door, unconscious in the arms of Sebastian the Gorilla, who finds her while doing his nightly escapades, Kimmi finds himself on a hot trail. Not only has something scared Greta out of her wits, but she has been to Egypt where she has seen Heidi's lost Columbus monkey with an Archaeologist whose name, surprisingly,  is Elizabeth Löwentrapp. On New Year's Eve Kimmi, Sara, Greta and Tony go to Heidi's only to find Coldfist has already arrived and pretending to be part of the reuniting Löwentrapp clan. Greta exposes him as her fake uncle, Coldfist gets ugly and tries to capture Lazarus and almost kills Heidi's father with his frosty grip in the ensuing fight but Kimmi immobilizes him with a sling shot and scans him with his Philatelist's glass. Coldfist becomes what he has been avoiding for over three hundred years. A stamp in the Lazarus Collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Alff
• Release date: Nov 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386667568

Book preview

-CHAPTER ONE-

Hearing Voices

On this typical February afternoon, eleven year old Kimmi Jambo kicked dust as he briskly walked on his way to the market. He could feel streams of sweat rolling down his back and his toes squelching in his battered sports shoes. It was a sweltering day.

The sun seemed to be standing still, smugly in the middle of a clear blue sky; conquering every cloud that dared form. Stopping every wind in its wake; draining life giving moisture from everything under its mercy.

Strange as it may sound, he still didn’t know why he was going to the market. All he knew was that, his big ears kept waggling so frantically that they hurt.  This was something that happened every time adventure saturated the air. And that insisting rather shrill voice inside his head, that kept saying ... Go to the market! Didn’t make things, any easier. It only made him not think clearly.  It had been surprisingly easy to get let out of football practise this afternoon.  All he remembered saying was that, his stomach was making strange noises...

Well, that was enough reason for Mr Wandi, the coach to send him away from the pitch, at once.  Kimmi didn’t blame the balding trainer. There was a strange epidemic blowing around the whole country, and with the National Schools’ Football Competition around the corner, the coach wasn’t taking any chances.

Kimmi also knew beyond reasonable doubt that, this could get him into a lot of trouble; with his mother to begin with, if she ever got to know about it.  She was likely to skin him alive long and painfully, because like many other mothers around the country, she seemed to think that school was a ticket to heaven, and missing any of it was out of question. Even, football practise.  Now for a person who’d never ever had the opportunity to grace a classroom with her presence, she was unbelievably passionate about this.  She was very determined, that her children get what she’d been denied; a good and thorough education.

Kimmi could already hear that lecture his mother never failed to give, loud and shrill. "School is all your father and I can afford to give you. I may not have an idea what they teach you there, but you will attend daily and on time, even if I have to drag you there by the end of your ear!’’ And she meant every word of it.

Now he’d already had this lecture three times this week, so he was very well aware, she would be doing something a lot more practical than talking, this time.  He felt a little guilt washing over him, and he was just about to turn around, and go back where he should have been in the first place - the football pitch. But the little shrill voice jumped into control. The market... You must get there!  He suspected the people around him must have heard, as well. He clamped his palms to his ears, to stop them flapping and attracting attention. The last thing he needed right now, was to get noticed by anyone who knew his mother. Word does spread like wild fire in these parts. And who would listen to a tall story, about a voice talking inside his head? Who would understand the curiosity and the anticipation he’d had to battle all morning, making him restless, not concentrate on his lessons. And the tightening tension in his chest that was building up to such a tremendous peak, that he thought he’d explode if he didn’t get out there?

He’d been so engrossed in his thoughts, that he didn’t notice he’d actually walked into the 3rd Long Avenue; the most famous street in Nairobi city.

Nairobi is a city of many fronts. It really depends on how you choose to look at it. Now, as Kimmi trudged on past the length of the 3rd Long Avenue, he let his eyes feast on the towering sky scrapers, that were glittering smugly in the afternoon sun, while he plodded along the stone pavement past shops that had great windows, behind which mannequins displayed the latest fashions; and others which were clearly bursting at the seams with wares. He saw shoe-polishers seated at every available corner, all very busy at the moment. The prevailing dust-devils were an indisputable rare blessing to the trade, it seemed.

He turned around and saw wood-carvers working under every coconut tree, undeterred by the deafening city noises. The shifty newspaper-vendors, who were known to stand in your way, until you eventually bought what they pushed into your face, were doing their rounds.  And of course, the occasional dark alleys which were filled with mountains of garbage, that gave Nairobi its smell of fame.  He walked on, letting himself drown in the overpowering whiff of baked delicacies that was coming from the bakery at the end of the street. This was his favourite smell. On the whole, he felt elated. There was something about it all that made you feel that you belonged. Even as he watched a burglar stripping a stereo from a car in broad daylight, while a great crowd of people stood nearby totally flustered, lost to the antics of a street acrobat, who was spinning a bicycle with his legs while standing on his head - Kimmi couldn’t help marvelling and loving every minute of it. He turned around in time to see the acrobat trying to swallow a blazing stick, still in that up-side-down position! He and the crowd gave a collective gasp of wonder. He came to when he felt a slight movement at his feet. Someone was trying to untie his shoelaces!

Hey! growled Kimmi viciously. A street boy about his own age looked up at him with an uneasy toothless grin before running away in fright; disappearing into a dark alley. Kimmi Jambo in that instant felt a sudden unfamiliar lightness on his back, where he usually carried a book-laden rucksack. He groped behind his back...

It was gone. And he hadn’t felt...a thing!

He was shaken. But knew, this was just one of those things that made the 3rd Long Avenue so special. He would have wanted to hang around a little longer and enjoy the din, colours, smells and confusion of the city centre, but he had to take a turn down the 5th Avenue and head for the open-air market, where the street-hawkers had been moved, and were now very involved in various forms of business.

Full of unbridled anticipation, Kimmi started to cross the street, only to hear a rather unexpected ... Screech!!!

A minibus had stopped in its tracks - the horrible smell of burning rubber filling the air. Kimmi Jambo stared at the bonnet which was right in front of his nose, visibly stunned.

"Hey! Johnny, look where you’re going!’’ The driver roared, his head pushed out of the driver’s window. Kimmi only stared back, at a loss for words. The driver let him cross the rest of the road rather impatiently, before slamming his foot on the accelerator, zooming off at such top speed before suddenly lifting off into the air with a tremendous whoosh.  "Whew!" Kimmi let out a long, deep breath watching the vehicle soar into the sky.  He’d have to be a lot more careful crossing roads, he decided. He stole a glance behind him at the zebra-crossing, which was gleaming in the equatorial sun. Not only did he hate people calling him strange names, but he sincerely hoped as well, that someday the black and white stripes would actually account for something more than a glossy decoration on the roads.  Well, we do have enough Zebras in the wild...don’t we? He reasoned, grimly. He walked on in a thoughtful daze, only conscious of walking past shadows, and merely saw faces or limbs that should have been on them.

-CHAPTER TWO-

A buy like no other

"Hello, Kimmi Jambo !" It was Mama Juju, behind a great pan that was sizzling furiously; just hanging in the space above raging flames, as if held by an invisible hand.  She was partly covered in a cloud of smoke emanating from the frying fish that was still leaping in the pan. She was seated right at the entrance to the open-air market.

Holy pumpkins! Kimmi thought desperately, before saying in forced heartiness, "Hello there... Mama Juju. Nice day, isn’t it?’’ His attempt to smile failed miserably.

He felt his body breaking into a thin sweat, knowing this was the last thing he needed right now. The most dreaded gossip...He’d failed to see her behind the camouflage of smoke, blinded by his daze, and hadn’t had the time to divert his route, accordingly. He’d been too engrossed in shaking off the fright he’d gotten back there, and reading his instincts!

Quit the nonsense boy! Are you trying niceties with me? Mama Juju snapped, her eyes poring into him.  "And why aren’t you at school? Does your mother know where you are...does anyone, in the world know, where you are?’’ She said, her eyes suddenly shifting about, looking around him for supposedly adult company.  Kimmi stared at her, nonplussed and knew not which question he should reply to first. She stared him down waiting for an answer.

Kimmi began rather unconvincingly, "er... had some noises in my stomach...and...’’ While at the same time thinking rather furiously, I shouldn’t be giving her any excuses! Mama Juju, glared at him through blood-shot eyes, threatening to bore holes into his face. Kimmi knew she hadn’t believed a word he’d just said, and clamped his mouth shut.  It certainly seemed that, they’d got into an eye duel, he wasn’t sure he could win. So, when a woman who had a child tightly wrapped on her back, stopped by Mama Juju to get some fried fish, Kimmi took the golden chance, and hastily fled into the throngs of people milling around the market place, where even Mama Juju’s well practised eye, couldn’t spot him.

He walked on and saw many bales of second-hand clothes and many other varieties of wear get hanged in the open-air stalls. I could do with a new pair of jeans, he thought fleetingly.  That however, wasn’t why he was here.  So he let the loud off-keyed singing of the vendors, "Shillingi moja! Shillingi moja!’’ (A shilling a piece) draw him on.

He was shaken bumping into Mama Juju, like that. Just his luck! Of all that had happened to him until now, that was perhaps the worst.  He took a quick glance at his plastic Casio watch. It was 3:30 pm.  He still had another hour before the final bell rang at school. He really hoped to be back by then.

He plodded on, and came to a stand where he let his eyes feast on a heap of electrical gadgets. A man with big sun-glasses, that clearly covered half his face, watched him with a mean expression, and undeterred suspicion.  Strangely enough, he didn’t even bother to sell him anything.  Kimmi trudged on, his eyes touching hungrily on everything along his path.

He got swept along by a crowd into the meat stalls. He spotted a man trying to sell a rather plump chicken to a seemingly unwilling customer, who was obviously insisting on wanting something bigger and fatter.

To Kimmi’s surprise, the irritated seller tapped the chicken on the head with a finger and it turned into a pig! The customer who now had a big satisfied smile on his face, hurriedly removed a crumpled note from his pocket, and gave to it to the seller.  Did I just see that? Kimmi thought in wonder.

Further on, an unpleasant whiff in the air made his nose tingle, letting him know him that he was coming to the end of the great marketplace; approaching the river that served as a boundary. He could hear water splashing amid gleeful cries, as children took a well deserved plunge. So he took a left turn, and let his nose lead him to the fruit and vegetable stalls, where the sweet smell of roasting sweet potatoes, was coming from.

Then he heard it...

At first, it sounded like a low hum in the afternoon breeze; which then turned into a rumbling growl; coming from within thick bushes that grew along the river right behind him. His ears began waggling frantically, once more. He glanced anxiously behind him, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Without warning, a black flash of something tore from the bushes and shot towards him! All he could make out were, long gleaming canines and front paws with exposed claws heading in his direction!  He tore off at a run his heart almost in his mouth, while the vicious growls behind him became louder and louder. He could hear gnashing teeth and speeding paws scratching earth behind him, as he fled.

Then, as if this weren’t bad enough, he heard someone shouting... T-9!!

"What...a T-9... here?" he gasped breathlessly, still tearing off as fast as his legs could go. He saw through the corner of his eye people squirming and running for cover, while others hauled great sticks from concealed places and followed the chase.  No one was taking chances. One epidemic making rounds was enough. So, as Kimmi sped through the market grounds for his dear life, all he could think was... Why me? the only T-9 this decade, and it tries to get me?

He hoped however, although with a sinking feeling, that this wasn’t what he’d been waiting for all morning. And as he tried to avoid something huge and round, carrying a basket full of raw eggs on its head, he tripped and fell flat on his stomach. His lungs deflated with a loud hiss when his chest landed on something hard. And then he screamed when he felt the monster bite, and tear a big piece off his shorts taking a bit of skin, as well. As if this were not bad enough, the basket which was full of eggs fell on him, exposing a very furious familiar woman.

"Kimmi Jambo! I see... you still haven’t learned to look where you’re going! After an unwavering antagonistic stare at him, the question he dreaded most. And why aren’t you at school, eh?’’ It was Mame Osman who stood blocking the way to the rest of his life.

It’s... the T-9! He gasped.

"What T-9?" she snapped. But, he wasn’t listening. He was already flinching, waiting for another bite of his behind. It didn’t come.  He peered behind him curiously his face still set in a wince and saw the mob with sticks closing in. Singing something about keeping Nairobi city clean; not wanting rabid dogs around or friends of such, for that matter; very unsettling news for Kimmi Jambo!

His heart gave a series of horrific leaps. In this instant, he found himself wholeheartedly wishing that, he’d paid more attention to his mother. Listened to what she’d always said about, being in the right place at the right time. It would have certainly caused him less trouble!

However, right now, he had no time for wishful thinking. He had to get up from where he’d landed, between Mame Osman’s fat hairy legs, and run for his life!  He scrambled onto his feet hastily, only to get caught by one of his big flapping ears.

"Not so fast, young man! Mame Osman said still breathing fire, her big bosom heaving heavily. Not to mention, the cold glare of the man in whose variety of mumbo-jumbo he had tripped over; stuff ranging from old photo- albums to plastic sandals. He was holding a huge, mouldy, slimy book towards Kimmi. Shillingi moja!’’ he demanded dangerously.

Kimmi Jambo fumbled frantically in his deep back pockets.  Praying that the shilling he’d put there, was still tucked within the folds somewhere. It was the only pocket money he’d got since Christmas.  And as he gave the silver coin to the man, he felt such devastation, and almost swore to never ever listen... to his instincts again!

Mame Osman watched this transaction very impatiently.  It was visibly plain, she wasn’t about to be finished with him, just yet. After he was done she dragged him along by his left ear. How she got him out of the marketplace without tearing it off, will remain a mystery.

"Now go! And let me warn you...you little vagabond... don’t dare even look back, because if you do... I’ll be onto you like a sack of rocks!" she threatened, her nostrils flaring. Kimmi fled from the angry woman and the cursed marketplace, and just on time before the armed blood-thirsty mob got to the gates. He didn’t however; miss seeing Mame Osman’s eyes squirt a strange green light, which criss-crossed through the air before hitting the charging crowd. Kimmi then heard a loud whoosh, as a great swarm of flies flew away above his head, some of them grumbling in something very much like... human voices?

He scanned around, and the singing mob seemed to have vanished into thin air. It then dawned on him. "Mame Osman...!" He scampered away as fast as he could.

He got home at sundown, limping with a massive book tucked tightly under his arm. At the gate, he stopped and peered round it. How on earth was he going to explain the tear in his shorts? What was he going to say about losing his books?  Well, for now, it seemed the coast was clear, only Tambo could be seen sitting under a tree...

"What’s he doing here... isn’t he supposed to be in prison?" Kimmi muttered to himself.

Tambo pretended not to see Kimmi despite his giving him a friendly wave. "Hmm...strange..."

Kimmi walked up the drive, hiding behind every bush to the rambling house. It was a wonderfully thatched mud hut of enormous proportions with many spacious rooms, large square windows and a great chimney, but still a very big disadvantage at times like these, because it only had one door; the front door.  Kimmi decided to slither into the house through his bedroom window which he kept open all day. He hoped to make it inside and go straight to bed. Walking on the tips of his toes, inching slowly towards the square opening, just about to flip over the windowsill, he heard Sara’s voice behind him, saying: Are you stealing into the house? He fell back onto the ground in shock. Are you spying on me?  He stammered glaring angrily at his thirteen year old sister.

Me... spying on you? Why on earth, would I want to do a thing like that? She said, managing to look totally affronted.

I only want to know why you’re climbing through the window. We do have a door, you know!

I’m very much aware of that... not so loud!

Then why aren’t you using it? she insisted, her eyes now roaming all over him.  Good gracious! is that...egg or blood?

Now, walking around him curiously, Where’s your school-bag? After a fleeting pause of shocked silence, she asked rather seriously, Kimmi, what happened?

If I tell you, do you promise to keep your beads on?

Well, yeah. Nodding, vigorously.

"Not only, was my rucksack stolen, but I got bitten by something strange at the market, and was forced to buy this mouldy book with my last shilling! Sara gasped at this. And Mame Osman let me walk away despite up-setting her basket of eggs!"

Oh dear! Sara said with real concern in her voice. You have to tell mum all about it, at once. Miss Nancy called to say you weren’t feeling well and you got sent home...

Kimmi felt as though someone had kicked him in the stomach on purpose.

She called... and mum’s really home?

Yep, she’s been here all afternoon waiting for you. She even cancelled a fund-raising. What did you expect?

His heart sunk. A sense of foreboding engulfed him and he felt himself shudder.

Who are you talking to? It was Tony, his ten year old brother, coming to the door.

Hi, Kim. You missed the bus... He said, his eyes roving all over his battered brother.

"Has Kimmi arrived?" His mum’s voice was heard saying from within.

Yeah, Kimmi’s home! replied Tony from the door.

"Kimmi, come right in!’’ she said with a strange ring in her voice.  So, Kimmi walked towards the big oak front door, bracing himself his mind reeling in search of watertight excuses that his mother might fall for. When he walked into the living room he stopped dead in his tracks, gulping audibly.

Mama Juju was slouched in a sofa opposite his mother!

He didn’t even know that, they knew each other! He felt all the likely excuses that, had filed themselves in his head evaporate like a fine mist of the morning, at the first rays of the rising sun.

Kimmi Jambo spent the entire weekend in his room, grounded.

He hoped and prayed that he’d never see his mother so enraged again, as long as he lived.

His father, David Jambo, had uttered no word so far.  He’d let his mother handle it. And handle it, she did. Only Sara was allowed to come and go; bringing in his meals and patched up shorts.

In the quiet of his room, he now took the time to flip through his mouldy possession.  It was the biggest book he’d ever seen. He reckoned it must have had more than a thousand pages in it.

He didn’t know if he should think it unusual that, it had no title or one couldn’t tell the beginning or the end of it, either...hmm.

He flipped a heavy cover and a couple of aged, water-stained pages.  The overpowering smell of fish oozing from it, made him almost throw-up.

He flipped through a hundred more pages, disappointment swelling with every turn. And then, there it was... It was the most unusual thing he’d ever seen. He only wished he knew why the pretty woman was smiling like that...  As though she were happy, that he’d bothered to open the book. And ... had she just winked at him, or was he imagining things? His jaw fell, and he remained gaping at this rather unusual sight. "Hmm...she sure looks like royalty..."If the crown on her head were anything to go by. Needless to say, Kimmi had never met any real royalty, but he’d seen some such people in magazines.

The pale face continued appraising Kimmi as if returning his probing scrutiny, somewhat critically, all the while fluttering her fan which was full of little precious stones with light dainty movements, as though from very well oiled wrists. Kimmi, whose eyebrows were stuck tightly in his hairline, felt his hand go unconsciously into his dreads, made a frantic rampage there before falling to rub his bottom, where his mother had been sure to spank very hard, the day before. He really hoped that all this had a sensible meaning...

-CHAPTER THREE-

A restless idea

It all started on a wintry Monday morning, of December 1654.

Thirty-three year old Johannes Löwentrapp waded