Akata Witch

“I told you,” Chichi said. “To see Anatov.”

“Yeah, but who is he?” She stopped walking. “Chichi, Orlu, stop.” She hoisted up her purse, her closed umbrella under her arm. “What’s going on? Where are we going? What’s happening?”

They both looked uncomfortable.

“Anatov will explain, Sunny,” Orlu finally said.

“It’s easier that way,” Chichi said. “Just trust us.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re your friends,” Orlu said.

“And we’ve changed your life… maybe,” Chichi said. Then she looked away. “Just let Anatov explain.”

They started walking again.

“Is he mean?” Sunny asked. The path had narrowed and they were walking single file, Sunny last. She heard Orlu laugh to himself.

“Anatov is Anatov,” Chichi said, turning around and grinning.

Great, Sunny thought. Some friends. Not telling me a thing. For all she knew, they could have been accomplices working with Black Hat Otokoto. Anything is possible. Even the worst is possible. The candle showed me so. The worst was more than possible. The worst was inevitable. But she was in too deep now. Her parents didn’t know where she was-she didn’t even know where she was! She slapped at a mosquito on her arm.

Sunny heard it before she saw it. At first, it sounded like a bunch of people softly whispering, yet she saw nothing but forest. Minutes later, the noise grew to the sound of crashing water. It was a river so angry that its churning waters threw up a white mist. Never heard of this river, she thought. Stretching across it was a thin, slippery-looking wooden bridge. There were no handrails.

“How is anyone supposed to cross that?” she asked, horrified.

“You just do it,” Orlu said, stepping up to a large rock that sat in front of the bridge. He rubbed its smooth black surface with the palm of his hand. “Beyond the mist is the entrance to Leopard Knocks.”

She waited for him to go on.

“The full name is Ngbe Abum Obbaw, that’s Efik for ‘Leopard Knocks His Foot,’” Chichi explained. “Long ago, some Efik woman created a juju that stopped a leopard from attacking her. It made the leopard stub its foot on something hard, and the pain scared it away. The builders named Leopard Knocks His Foot after her strong juju. The Efik people have the strongest juju in the world.”

“In whose opinion? Not the Igbos’,” Orlu said irritably. “Sunny, there are Leopard People all over the world from every tribe, race, whatever. None is better than the other.”

“Oh, be realistic,” Chichi said, rolling her eyes.

But Sunny wasn’t really listening. She couldn’t take her eyes off of that narrow bridge. The wild waters beneath it boiled and churned.

“Only truth will allow you across,” Orlu said.

“Every time,” Chichi added.

“So you’ve crossed that?” Sunny cried. “It’s so flimsy! The thing doesn’t even look like it’s-” She stopped talking and just stared at it.

“Relax,” Chichi said, putting her arm around Sunny. “We’re not going over the bridge right now. We’re going that way.” She pointed to a small path that ran to the right, beside the river. She pulled Sunny along.

“I don’t like this,” Sunny said.

“You’re just not used to it,” Orlu said.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t like this. You’re both crazy.”

Chichi giggled.

Anatov’s hut was much bigger than Chichi’s. It was long with a thatch roof. The red walls were decorated with white symbols and caricatures of people. The wooden front doors were waist-high, and looked as if they swung in and out like the doors of a saloon in an American western. They were painted with black and white squares. In swooping white letters, one door was labeled IN, the other OUT. She noticed that they entered through the OUT door.

Inside, the air was heavy with incense so strong that it made her slightly ill. She waved her hand in front of her face. Through her watery eyes she saw that the hut’s inner walls were also decorated with white chalk artwork.

A man sat in a throne-like chair on the far side of the room. When he stood up, she gasped. He was the tallest man she had ever seen-taller than any Maasai or American basketball player. He was light-skinned with short brown bushy dreadlocks and a small gold ring in his left nostril.

Sunny was trying to be polite when she stifled her sneeze, but the sneeze was so hard that she blew snot into her hands instead. Great first impression, she thought. Her face and hands were a mess.

“This girl isn’t proper,” Anatov told Chichi. He spoke in English and had an American accent. He turned to Orlu and looked down his nose at him. “Explain. I can barely stand to have so many Ekpiri in here. Clutters up the vibe, know what I’m sayin’? But you bring an improper, at that? Y’all don’t think.”

“Oga Anatov, this is Sunny Nwazue,” Chichi quickly said. “We’re sorry.… Are you busy?”

Suddenly, Anatov strode over to Sunny, who was still holding her face. He frowned at her. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, switching to Igbo.

“I need-I need a tissue.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and thrust it at her. To her further embarrassment, he watched intently as she wiped the snot from her hands and face and blew her nose.

“Yellow,” he said, when she was finally done. “On all levels, she’s yellow.”

“I know I’m yellow,” she snapped. “I’m albino! Haven’t you ever seen an-”

“Quiet,” Anatov said. “Sit down or I’ll throw you out and make your life more miserable than it is. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Sunny, sit,” Chichi hissed.

“Fine!” she said, sitting.

“Good,” Anatov said. He walked a circle around her. “Okay,” he mumbled. He reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of white powder and started sifting it from his hand as he circled her again. This time he moved slowly. When he’d completed the powder circle, he brought out a knife. It had a handle with red jewels. The blade was shiny and very sharp looking.

Sunny glanced at Orlu, who gave a small smile of encouragement. All she could think about was Black Hat. Anatov was too close for her to make a run for the door. “Excuse me,” she stammered. “What are you…”

“You’ll remember this for a long time,” Anatov said with a chuckle. She leaned away from him, her hand up as a shield, as he raised the sharp, shiny knife. She braced herself. But no blow came. He seemed to be drawing in the air. A soft red symbol-a circle with a cross in the center-floated above her head like smoke. Slowly, it descended on her.

“Hold your breath,” Chichi said just as it touched her upturned face. But before she could, she was pulled down. Yanked like a rag doll. First through the hut’s dirt floor and then into sweet-smelling earth.

As she was pulled downward, Sunny’s mouth filled with earth. She couldn’t scream! The earth was pushing its way down her throat, pulling up her eyelids, scratching her eyeballs, grating her clothes away, and pressing at her skin.

It got worse.

Her skin went from cold to hot and then cold again, as if she were passing through various living and dead parts of the earth.

Finally, she stopped descending and started moving slowly up. All was dark. She was glad. She didn’t want to see where she was. Her entire body screamed with pain. How was she still alive? How was she still breathing?

As she ascended, she heard a mulching low wet grumble. It grew louder. Suddenly, she burst into water. It had