Akata Witch

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Sugar Cream is tough,” Orlu said.

“I know,” she said.

“If she doesn’t come around, I’m sure Anatov will find someone else to mentor you,” Chichi said.

This was not a consolation. She wanted Sugar Cream.

But she did feel better. Her grandmother was no criminal. She’d only been the teacher of a student gone bad. Still, by the time she was back in her room, she wanted to cry again. She couldn’t get Black Hat out of her head. As she went to turn off the light, she saw the red ghost hopper standing on the post of her bed.

“You just have to sit yourself there, don’t you?” she said. It just looked at her with its huge compound orange eyes. She turned off the light. As she closed her eyes, she heard a soft, wavery singing, like a tiny dove who was using its voice to more than coo. It was lovely.

“You could do a lot worse than a ghost hopper. Some people would love to have those,” Orlu had said. Now Sunny understood why. She settled down and let it sing her to sleep.

11

Lessons

“You’re lucky your back isn’t stinging,” Anatov said. “Sugar Cream has the flogging done by a very muscular lad.” He stood up and strolled around them with his hands behind his back. “This changes things some. If it weren’t for Sunny’s recklessness, I’d have sent y’all to meet Sugar Cream and get a tour of the Obi Library-not including the fourth floor, of course.”

Sunny was relieved when no one seemed angry.

“Today will be short,” he said. “I’ll lecture on some important jujus. Then you can try a few of the advanced ones.” He sat down and flicked his long beard over his shoulder. “Healing juju is tricky. Do it wrong and you worsen the ailment. First you find the cause. Let’s say that a man has a boil on his nyash.”

Orlu, Chichi, and Sunny snickered. Sasha only frowned.

“You don’t know what nyash means, do you?” Anatov asked Sasha. “Come now. Of all words.”

“It’s ‘ass,’ in Pidgin English,” Chichi said, still laughing.

Sasha humphed and looked away.

“Work harder on your Pidgin English and your Igbo,” Anatov told Sasha. “You don’t even know any general curse words yet? Pathetic.”

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Sasha replied in perfect Igbo. He even managed to hide his American accent. Sunny had to admit, she was impressed.

“Work harder,” Anatov replied in English. “So, back to the nyash. I am a man with a boil on my nyash. I want it gone before my wife sees it. What do I do?”

“Squeeze it,” Sasha said. They all burst out laughing.

“That would leave a sore that could get infected,” Anatov said, remaining serious. “Such a simple problem and not one of you can tell me how to quickly cure it?”

“You’ll have to make a strong medicine,” Chichi said.

“Yes, but a strong medicine can take all night,” Anatov said. After a moment, he said, “Open your books to page one hundred eighteen.”

The chapter was titled “Reknitting: Fast Healing by Hand.” Anatov read the second paragraph aloud: “There is only one way to swiftly heal the body. You must undo and then reknit the cells. Those who excel at this must have fast hands and superb spatial skills. Males possess this skill in greater quantities than females. With young people, simply look to their ability to play video games for your answer.”

Anatov looked up from his book. “I want you all to look at yourselves and locate an ailment. Could be a cut, a scratch, bruise, or pimple.”

Sunny still had plenty of bruises and scratches from her fight with Jibaku.

Anatov held up a small vial containing a light blue substance. “You’re to go to Leopard Knocks on your own time and buy some of this,” he said. “It’s called Healing Hands powder. Come and take a pinch. You should have this with you at all times-just in case.”

The powder was hot between Sunny’s fingers, but not unpleasantly so.

“If you hold it long enough, the part of your skin that is touching it will develop a cancer,” Anatov said.

They all froze. “What!” cried Sasha.

“Patience,” Anatov firmly said. “I know this might be hard, knowing what you know, but you need to stand still enough to hear your heartbeat. If you don’t, it won’t work.” He waited.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “The blood your heart pumps nourishes every part of you, including the part you wish to heal. Imagine sailing through your veins to that ailing place. You see it? Now imagine that you’re bringing that part of you forward. It detaches and now floats before you. See it rotate so you can look at it from all angles.”

Sunny imagined the dark purple black bruise on her bicep where Jibaku had punched her, the bruise she wished would go away before her mother saw it. She imagined the flesh under her skin, full of burst blood vessels.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Anatov said. “Now, quickly, blow the powder at what you see!”

She held her fingers to her lips and blew. Immediately her bicep felt as if it had caught fire. She screeched, grabbing her arm.

“Looks like we have a result,” Anatov said, smiling wide.

Sunny’s arm gradually began to feel better. She looked at it and laughed. “It’s gone!”

“Yours worked?” Chichi asked, surprised. “Nothing happened to the rash on my ankle.”

“Nothing happened to my scratch, either,” Sasha said.

Sunny smirked, feeling even more satisfied with herself.

“You didn’t visualize well enough,” Anatov said. “Orlu? What of you?”

“Yeah, the scrape I had on my leg is gone,” he said. “But I didn’t feel any pain, like Sunny did.”

“You have more control,” Anatov said, placing a hand on Orlu’s head. Then he placed a hand on Sunny’s. “You, Sunny, have more power. Sasha, Chichi, you need more practice. I’m not surprised you couldn’t get it to work at all. All of you, go scrub your hands of every trace of the powder.”

The next two hours were tough. Sunny could barely keep up, even when he discussed things from the juju knife book. And because she had no juju knife, she was forced to shadow everyone else’s motions, which felt silly. She soon went from feeling powerful to pathetic. It was more than clear that Orlu, Chichi, and Sasha had years on her, had upbringing on her. They were so natural as Leopard folk, whereas she was stumbling around in the dark.

When they were finished, Anatov made an announcement. “Next Saturday, we go to Abuja. We go for two reasons. First, Sunny will pick out her juju knife.”

“We’re going to see Junk Man!” Chichi exclaimed.

“Second, I’m taking you all to the Zuma Festival to see your first Zuma National Wrestling Match finals. I need to be at an important meeting of scholars, so this trip will kill multiple birds with one stone.”

Sasha looked delighted, and for once, Orlu’s reaction matched his. “I’ve always wanted to see the finals,” Orlu said. “I hope no one’s killed, though.”

“Yes, it’s often a fight to the death,” Anatov said with a mysterious smile.

How was Sunny supposed to pull this one off? An entire day and night? And Abuja was hours away by car. She had to lie. It was the only way.

Chichi was in on the plan. Two days later, Sunny invited her to dinner. Chichi made sure to dress up. She wore a nice yellow rapa with green designs on it and a yellow shirt. Her short Afro was brushed out. She even wore silver hoop earrings.

Sunny’s father was still at his office working on a case, but that was fine. It was her mother they had to really