Akata Witch

8

Red Stew and Rice

Sunny could barely keep her eyes open at school. What kept her awake was the bruise on her hip, which throbbed miserably. To top things off, Jibaku was laying it on thick.

“Get out of my way,” Jibaku snapped, shoving Sunny aside to get to her seat. Sunny nearly went flying into her desk. She glared back at Jibaku.

“What are you going to do about it?” Jibaku asked, returning her glare. Sunny could think of plenty of things to do about it. But all those things ended with a beating from her father after her parents found out. When she did nothing, Jibaku laughed loudly like the hyena she was.

“Just ignore her,” Orlu whispered from two desks away as their math teacher walked in.

Sunny sat down, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Gotta get it together, she thought. By lunchtime, she had a pounding headache. Everything around her seemed so normal-and strange. The other students, the walls, the floors, the smell of the hallways. Feeling out of place was nothing new to her, but now she felt even more removed. She’d barely stepped onto the school yard when Jibaku came up behind her and shoved her again.

“Excuse me, ugly girl,” she said. Then two of her girlfriends pushed by. Sunny watched as they all met up with Periwinkle and Calculus and some other friends. Fatigue mixed with confusion, hunger, and anger is a bad combination. She’d taken three angry steps toward the group when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Where are you?” It was Orlu.

“Good timing.”

“I had a feeling,” he said.

“I’m at the door.”

“I’m right behind you, then.”

She turned to see him coming out of the classroom. “Can’t we do something to her?” she whispered as they walked across the yard.

“Never use juju on Lambs for petty revenge,” he said. “You’ll find yourself standing before the Library Council trying to defend your actions. You don’t want that, trust me.”

“Have you told Sasha?”

Orlu laughed. “He knows. It’s the same where he’s from. He’s been in front of the council before.” He paused. “But you’re right, he’s in Nigeria now; punishment here is swift and painful, not verbal and lawful.”

“I’m so tired,” she moaned.

“You’ll get used to it.”

She looked at him, shielding her face with her hand. Remembering, she opened her umbrella and held it over her head. “Orlu, how long have you and Chichi been going to see Anatov?”

Orlu shrugged. “A long time. Since I was about two years old.”

“But you and I have been going to the same school since we were about five.”

“Mhm.”

“But how… no wonder your grades were suffering,” she said.

“Nah, I’m just not good at school. Not this one, at least,” he said. “You get used to having less sleep. Just make sure you study earlier, so you can go to bed earlier. We’ve got three days before we see Anatov again. You can get ahead on things.”

“Three days? I didn’t know that. Did he say?”

“We see him Wednesdays and Saturdays.” He stopped walking. “It’s important that you keep your grades up. It’s just as important as the other stuff.”

“How am I supposed to do my homework when I feel like this?” she moaned.

“By just doing it,” Orlu said. “Do it and then sleep.”

Easier said than done.

That evening, she felt as if she were fighting a silent tricky monster. Her eyes were heavy and her mind was muddled. But I did it, she thought as she finally put her pen down. She’d done a worksheet of math, read for history and grammar, and written the draft of an essay due in two days. She went to get something to eat. Her mother was there cooking red stew and rice.

“Good evening,” Sunny said.

“Good evening, Sunny. Have you been home all this time?”

“Yeah, studying,” she said.

“You look tired.”

She grabbed a mango and peeled it, aware that her mother was watching.

“Is everything all right?” her mother asked, the wooden spoon in her hand suspended above the pot of bubbling stew.

“Yes, Mama,” she said and smiled. “I’m just tired.”

“Hm,” she said. “You look…”

“I’m fine.” She took a bite from her mango. “Mama?”

“Mhm?” She’d turned back to the stew.

“What was your mother’s maiden name?”

She stopped stirring, but just for a second. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sunny carefully said. “You… you never really say much about her.”

“Yaya isn’t enough for you?”

Yaya was her grandmother from her father’s side. Sunny got to see her on holidays. She liked her well enough.

“I only meant that-”

“Sunny, my mother has passed and that’s the end of it.”

“Okay,” she said quickly.

“When you finish that mango, go get some rest,” she said.

Sunny had always wondered about all the secrecy, and her mother’s response never changed-cold and standoffish. That night, as she lay in bed, Sunny wondered even more.

Something landed on her bed. She jumped up and switched on the light. The red ghost hopper. It sat on her bed staring at her with its large orange compound eyes. Sunny wasn’t afraid of grasshoppers, not even their strong flicking legs. But this creature was the size of an American football. It turned and, with a soft hum, hop-flew across the room, landing on the wall. Sunny stared at it for a moment and then just switched off the light.

Sleep came deliciously swift and easy, as it often does when it is well earned.

Important Non-human Leopard People to Know

Udide is the ultimate artist, the Great Hairy Spider, brimming with venom, stories, and ideas. Sometimes she is a he and sometimes he is a she; it depends on Udide’s mood. Udide lives beneath the ground, where it is cool, dark, where she can put her eight legs to the dirt and know the earth’s pulse. Some say Udide’s lair is a great cave deep beneath the city of Lagos, where she delights in the noise of generators and fast life. Others believe her lair is beneath the country’s capital of Abuja, not far from the Abuja National Mosque, where she starts her day by listening to the Morning Prayer. Still others think his home is in the swamps of the Niger Delta, where he enjoys the sound of gunfire and sips the oily, polluted water like champagne. And there are a few who swear she lives just under the town of Asaba, for this was where one young Leopard woman found a copy of Udide’s Book of Shadows , a book full of Udide’s personal recipes, juju, stories, and notes. This priceless tome has since been duplicated exactly three times, yet the whereabouts of these copies are unknown. Nevertheless, Udide revels in trickery. Udide obviously wanted the book to be found. Those who choose to use it are idiots.

from Fast Facts for Free Agents