Akata Witch (13 page)

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Authors: Nnedi Okorafor

Tags: #United States, #Nigeria, #Africa, #Albinos and Albinism, #Fantasy & Magic, #Crime, #Magic, #People & Places, #African American, #Serial Murderers, #Supernatural, #Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories

BOOK: Akata Witch
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Chichi spoke up. “My name is Chichi. And these are Sasha, Orlu, and Sunny. Please, speak English if you can. One of us doesn’t know Igbo.”

There was a pause as the door’s curtain was pulled aside. “Ah, the princess, the American, the dyslexic, and the albino,” the man said in perfect American English.

“What’s he mean by ‘princess’?” Sunny whispered to Orlu. He shushed her.

Kehinde wasn’t a giant but he
was
pretty huge, taller than Anatov. Sasha glanced at Chichi, giving her an “I told you so” smirk. Chichi made a face at him.

Kehinde wore only a long black
rapa
with large white circles and squiggles. He looked a little older than Sunny’s father but far more muscular, as if he spent all his time chopping wood. And he must have done it in the sun, for his skin was nearly black.

He had a braided goatee almost to his waist. At its tip was a bronze band. Sunny would have thought he looked ridiculous if he didn’t look so cool. He scrutinized them, a lit pipe in his mouth. First she had to put up with Anatov’s incense addiction and now she’d have to try not to breathe in this man’s disgusting smoke. “Sit,” he said.

They sat down right there in the dirt. He held out his hand and pressed his fingers together. The dirt behind him began to build itself. Soon Kehinde had a chair made of dirt. He sat down and took a deep pull from his pipe. Slowly letting out the smoke, he said, “Bring light,” in his thunderous voice.

Now his English was tinted with a Nigerian accent. Unlike Orlu, he didn’t have to plead with the insects. Dozens of fireflies made the whole area brilliant with light.

“Hmm,” Kehinde said, winding his beard around his long index finger. “Would you all like something to drink? You look . . . parched.”

“Yes, please,” they said.

A monkey about the size of a five-year-old child came running out. Its fur was light brown with hints of red, and it had a long strong-looking tail that swung in circles as it ran. It threw a bottle at Sunny. Thankfully, she was quick enough to catch it. The Fanta was ice cold. Orlu caught a malt, Sasha a Coke, and Chichi a bitter lemon. All were thrown with equally wild finesse. The caps popped off with a hiss.

“You made it,” Kehinde said. “If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been worth my time.”

Sunny frowned, irritated.

“What’s that?” Kehinde asked her. “Speak up.”

She glanced at Sasha, Chichi, and Orlu. They looked as angry as she felt.

“Why—I just—” She pressed her lips together and then shouted, “We could have all been
killed
!” She paused. “Honestly, what kind of ‘teacher’ does that to his students? We met with a bush soul! What if it had done us in? My parents don’t even know I’m
gone
!”

“If you’d have all perished, we’d have found you and your bodies would have been returned to your parents with . . . explanation,” Kehinde said.

Sunny’s mouth fell open.
What kind of barbaric coldhearted man was this?

“Come now,” Kehinde said, pulling out a newspaper. He shook it at them. “Have you seen the news lately? If you haven’t noticed, a person’s life, especially a young person’s, isn’t worth much these days. The world is bigger than all of you. Chances have to be taken. But
thankfully
, here you are.”

Sunny was about to say more, but he held a hand up. “Shut up, now, Sunny,” he said. “You’ve said enough.”

“No,” she snapped. “I—” The smack on the back of her head was hard enough to make her vision go blurry for a second. She turned to stare at Chichi, who’d hit her. “Shut up,” she hissed. Sunny was so stunned that she did.

Kehinde smirked and nodded, satisfied. “I don’t make a habit of meeting Anatov’s groups of students, but Anatov thinks you’re useful—useful to the Leopard People as a whole, though all this might be harmful to you as individuals. But that’s life, eh? We’ll see. Sasha, stand up.”

He stood.

“You like trouble?” Kehinde asked.

Sasha cocked his head and then said, “If I can find it.”

Kehinde actually smirked. “I like this one,” he said to himself.

Orlu sucked his teeth with annoyance.

“Okay. Well, it grows late,” Kehinde said, standing up. “I have other appointments, social occasions, places to visit, visitors to entertain.”

That’s it?
Sunny wanted to shout.
All that and now he was going to send us right back into his crazy jungle?
Nevertheless, when she stood up, she felt refreshed, despite her annoyance and bruises. She looked back at the path. If they survived the walk back, it would then be the funky train home, most likely. What time
was
it? She didn’t dare look at her watch.

The monkey came out again. “Hey, I wasn’t done with mine,” Orlu snapped, as the monkey snatched his malt. It took all their drinks.

“Gotta be quick,” Kehinde said. He shook each of their hands, patting Sasha on the back and whispering something in his ear, to which Sasha nodded and said, “Okay.”

Then Kehinde pulled something small and shiny out of his goatee. He threw it toward the path, causing a small burst that sent creatures Sunny couldn’t quite see scurrying in all directions.
They were all waiting for us
, she realized in horror. When the dust settled, the path was gone. In its place was a shorter path leading to Anatov’s hut.

“You’re lucky that I’m a nice guy,” Kehinde said with a wink.

“I’d have figured out how to do that,” Sasha said. “Once I know the way back, I can do that.”

“Not in the Night Runner Forest,” Kehinde said, darkly. “This place would just laugh at you and then lead you toward more potential death. Eventually, Sasha, I’ll show you how to do it. Till then, be on your way.”

 

 

 

When Anatov saw them come in, a look of such relief passed over his face that Sunny understood then and there just how close they’d come to death. She felt a ticklish sensation in her belly. The feeling lasted through the smelly, sneezy, funky train ride back and her short walk home. Chichi came along to help her sneak inside.

“Imagine the skull and do what you did before,” she said. “Remember, you’ve already done it once.
You
got yourself through the keyhole, not the skull.”

Like her second time crossing the bridge, getting inside was wonderfully easy. In seconds, she materialized inside her room. She smiled when a bronze
chittim
fell at her feet. Quickly, she opened her bedroom door and looked in the hallway. The
chittim
that had fallen earlier were still there. She took them into her bedroom and softly shut the door. It was five A.M. She had two hours until she had to get up for school.

Cooking and Recipes
If you are a girl and you are fortunate enough to marry a Leopard man when you grow up, you must not only know how to cook non-magical meals but the occasional magical one as well. As with any other Nigerian man, the way to a Leopard man’s heart is through his stomach. A free agent woman who cannot cook Tainted Pepper Soup for her Leopard husband is done for. Thankfully, this recipe is
very
easy to follow, even for you. Practice and master making Tainted Pepper Soup now or you will be sorry later.
Tainted Pepper Soup
INGREDIENTS:
3-4 large tomatoes (Warning: If they are too small, the finished soup will explode within an hour!)
1-2 tainted peppers (Warning: Never ever use a tainted pepper that has turned orange or emits more than light wisps of smoke)
Meat or fish (Warning: Do not use chicken. Chicken will cause the finished soup to explode within an hour!) 4 Maggi cubes (Warning: Do not use chicken Maggi cubes or the finished soup will explode within an hour!) Palm oil
2 perfectly round onions (Warning: If they are not perfectly round, the finished soup will explode within an hour!) Sea salt (Warning: Do not use table salt when using tainted peppers unless you plan never to have children) 50 g/2 oz ground crayfish (Warning: Make sure there is not one grain of sand in your ground crayfish or your soup will taste like glue)
Dry pepper
Water
Ice
INSTRUCTIONS:
Place the meat in a pot, add very little water (most meat produces water as it cooks), dice one onion in with the meat, add some sea salt, and cook the meat until it is almost tender.
 
Grind the tomatoes, the remaining onion, crayfish, and tainted peppers together. Add ice to cool it all down (tainted peppers will make the blended mixture boil).
 
Pour the blended mixture into the pot with the meat. Also add the Maggi cubes. Then add palm oil, not too much, not too little (palm oil is extremely high in cholesterol).
 
Allow the soup to cook itself (the tainted peppers will cause it to boil) for about 20-30 minutes, stirring constantly. Do not use a metal spoon unless you want to poison your husband.
 
Add sea salt and dry pepper to his taste.
 
 
from
Fast Facts for Free Agents

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.”

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