Akata Warrior

  “You think those are her children?” Chichi said, looking closely at the cave’s wall.

  “Either that or her minions,” Sasha said.

  “I wouldn’t get too close to the walls if I were you,” Orlu said as they entered the cave.

  The ground was free of webbing but not of spiders. There were tiny and not so tiny spiders all over the place. For a while, Sunny looked down as she held up the marbles and tried not to step on them. But eventually she realized that these spiders weren’t stupid and were not about to allow themselves to be crushed. With relief, she stopped looking down.

  The cave was cool and damp, the burning house smell stronger than ever. The wide path led even deeper beneath the city. Then it opened wide and high as it came to an end. When Sunny laid her eyes on Udide the Ultimate Artist, the Great Hairy Spider, she screamed.

  Udide not only smelled like burning houses, she was the size of a house. She was black with a gray sheen in the marble-light, and her many eyes glowed a rich brown, like truck-tire-sized jewels. She was covered with stiff hairs. Her abdomen was bulbous, the better to weave with, and tipped with a great black stinger. She was on her back, the spiked tips of her eight powerful legs pressed to the cave’s ceiling. And Sunny saw her through both her and Anyanwu’s point of view, which meant she saw Udide on both the spiritual and physical planes. Orlu clapped his hand over his mouth. Sasha started hyperventilating. Chichi just stood there staring, slack-jawed.

  Sunny’s eyes were watering as the great spider wriggled slowly, twisting and turning her body so that her legs were on the ground. Then she stood looking down at them. Sunny had watched this process through blurred twitching eyes. Her heart felt as if it was trying to beat itself to death against her rib cage. Of all the things she’d seen since entering Leopard society—ghost hoppers, bush souls, the river beast, the lake beast, the infamous Ekwensu—this creature was the one who threatened to break her grasp of reality.

  Udide crouched down, bending her legs to get a closer look at them. Seeing the great spider move again filled Sunny with a strange warmth. The world around her began to swim.

  “Do not faint,” she heard Orlu say into her ear as he held her up. He spoke firmly and slowly. “Get a hold of yourself, or we’re all dead.”

  His words touched her and she fought her fear with everything she had. Her body wanted to curl up and shut down into a defensive sleep. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. She reached for Anyanwu but couldn’t grasp her. Where had she gone? Sunny wished she could go back in time, before any of this. When she was a different person in a different world. When she wore her hair longer because it looked nice and not because Mami Wata preferred it long. When she wasn’t doubled and had no idea that she could be doubled.

  Then she felt the sting on her leg, and she screamed again. There was a large spider on her pant leg working its fangs through the cloth deeper into her flesh. She shuddered and swiped at it, dropping the marbles. She felt Anyanwu start with surprise, and when she looked at the cave wall to her right, she saw a dim golden glow spread over the surface. She screeched again, stumbling into Orlu. Her leg felt like a rod of heat. Orlu began frantically looking at the ground, as he held her. “Are there more?” he babbled. “Sunny, you okay?”

  “No!” Sunny screeched.

  Udide used a leg to grip her webbing, and then Sunny saw her throw the web at Chichi. It hit Chichi in the chest and she screeched, too, pulling at the thick gray sticky rope in the dim marble light. Sasha grabbed Chichi from behind, but Udide yanked her right out of his grasp and then proceeded to wildly wrap Chichi around and around in webbing.

  “Nimm princess,” Udide said. Her deep booming female voice shook the cave so hard that dirt and pebbles tumbled from the ceiling and the walls. The spider’s every hair vibrated at the sound, and all the spiders in the area ran in circles at the sound of her voice. “Trouble. Wahala. Kata kata. Tricky strong women and strong sneaky men. You have taken something from me.”

  “Taken what?” Sunny screamed as she strained with pain. “We just got here! We . . .”

  “The beginning is never the beginning,” Udide said. Chichi was wrapped now from feet to neck and struggling uselessly.

  Sasha pulled out his juju knife and threw juju at Udide. Whatever it was, it didn’t even move one of Udide’s many hairs. He tried throwing another juju and received the same non-result. He picked up a rock and threw it. It bounced off Udide like a pebble.

  “There is no juju that can kill a spider,” Udide said. “We are sacred.”

  “Sasha, stop it!” Orlu said, his voice calm. But his eyes were watering with tears.

  “She’s going to kill her!” Sasha screamed, his voice cracking. He looked around and spotted a spider. He stamped on it.

  Udide angrily puffed out a great stench of burning houses.

  “You don’t like that?!” Sasha screamed. He grabbed his backpack and brought out a can of Raid. “You think you’re smart? I’m smarter!” Before he could fumble the cap off, Orlu let go of Sunny to grab Sasha. The can of Raid dropped to the ground. The two tussled, but Orlu was stronger. He held Sasha’s wrists. “Stop!” Orlu said, straining, as Sasha looked around wildly.

  “Please!” Chichi said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “But your name does, DNA does, your molecules do,” Udide said. “I should kill you myself instead of letting my people feast on you.”

  Sunny had fallen to the ground, her heart beating dangerously faster than ever. She stared at the glow pressed to the wall feet away; she could hear Anyanwu in her mind, though she sounded so far away that Sunny couldn’t understand what she was saying. When Sunny spoke to the great spider, she could barely catch her breath and her mouth felt slow and gummy. “Udide . . . Ma . . . Oga Udide, we came a long way . . . We need to . . .” She felt another sting, this time on her neck. She could feel the scratchy spider scramble to her cheek. She groaned.

  “Nimm warrior,” Udide said. “Something is wrong with you, and that is interesting to me. You are two, but you both are one. They will take you next. Thieves. All of you. I let you live out there only because you people make for good stories, and you have the nerve to come down here and face me.”

  She wrapped Chichi some more and more, thicker and thicker. Chichi wriggled and wriggled to no avail.

  “Oga Udide,” Orlu said, moving forward with Sasha. He pressed his hand to Sasha’s mouth, and Sunny heard him whisper, “Not a word.” He stood up straight and spoke loudly. “My friend Sasha here is from Chicago, in the United States. He grew up on the South Side, in a place called Hyde Park. His grandparents are from Mississippi and participated fully in the civil rights movement, though they were more on the Malcolm X side than the Martin Luther King Jr. side. They passed that down to Sasha, too. He’s a fighter, born and bred through the racist fire that still burns in the United States of America.” He paused. “He . . . he was sent here to Nigeria to stay with my family and me because his parents wanted to keep him out of trouble. He’s too smart and rebellious.

  “He is the one who found your Book of Shadows. And Chichi, there, Chichi is the Nimm princess you are wrapping up and preparing to kill. But she is Sasha’s girlfriend, and she, too, is obsessed with your words and ideas. Both of them used one of your jujus to call an Aku masquerade at a party almost a year ago. Your teachings are good and effective, though dangerous to the reckless.

  “Me, I have read parts of your Book of Shadows, but it is not your spells and stories that I am interested in. It is you, Udide. I’ve read a book called The Book of High Beasts. In it, you are cited as the true creator of destiny. You are one of the few who answers only to Chukwu, the Supreme One. There is a Great Crab who lives deep in the Atlantic Ocean whom you love and see once every millennium. The hairs on your body can change the passage of time. You and Mami Wata have inspired human rebellions on every continent.”

&n
bsp; “You know much,” Udide said.

  Orlu nodded frantically. “And . . . and this girl here, Sunny Nwazue. That is her name. I love her very much.” He glanced at Sunny. She could feel saliva running from the side of her mouth. “Sunny recently met and freed the spider named Ogwu and her children.”

  “She did not free Ogwu,” Udide said. “Ogwu freed herself. Ogwu saved your Sunny from a djinn.”

  “Sorry, Ma Udide,” Orlu said respectfully. “You are right. But Sunny helped Ogwu free herself, and Ogwu sends her greetings to you from a place of freedom.” He paused, taking a breath. “Please, Chichi is like my sister. Please. We have come here for a good reason. I know your kind can sting venom and the antidote to the venom into a person. Please do this for the girl I love and my . . . my sister. Don’t let them die. Please.” He calmly nodded his head and again said, “Please.”

  There was a long, long pause. Then Udide hummed deep, sending out a vibration.

  Sunny heard them first. More spiders. Then she saw them. These ones were tarantula-like with hairy abdomens and wiggling tails on those abdomens. They scuttled up to her. Then she also heard the sound of their fangs puncturing the skin on both her hands. She gritted her teeth against the pain. Immediately, even that pain began to fade and she started to feel better. Her muscles loosened and Orlu quickly helped her up. “Okay?” he asked.

  “Weak . . .”

  “Fake it,” he whispered. “She doesn’t respect weakness.”

  When she straightened in Orlu’s arms and looked up, she was positive that the great spider was looking directly at her. Into her. With her many, many eyes. Fffffff! The smell burst from the spider in a soft powerful warm blast. The whole cave could have been filled with a thousand burning houses. Sunny fought not to cough and fought even harder not to sneeze. Udide dumped Chichi on the ground, and Sasha ran to drag the wound-up Chichi away from the giant spider. When he got to Orlu and Sunny, he tore at the webbing. Chichi quickly wriggled out like a caterpillar. “Goddamn insane bug,” Chichi muttered, rubbing her arm. “I think one of those spiders left a fang in me.”

  “Shut up,” Orlu hissed.

  “Sunny Nwazue,” Udide said.

  Sunny felt as if her head would explode from the sheer vibratory force of Udide’s voice. She held her head and as she did, she felt Anyanwu come to her. Then she did the only thing that she could do, even with her friends there. She brought forth her spirit face.

  “Greetings, Oga Udide,” she said, her voice low and sultry. She stood up straighter. She could stand on her toes. Udide would see her as poised and graceful.

  The great spider gave off her stench again, and Sunny stumbled back. “Anyanwu,” Udide said.

  “Yes.”

  Udide stared at her. “I know you.”

  “I know you, as well.”

  “In this life, you’ve been doubled and you live. You’re strong in many ways.”

  “It’s a strange life, this one.”

  “I want to speak to Sunny Nwazue. Because she wants to speak to me.”

  The others stood behind her as she let Anyanwu retreat into her.

  “We’re here, Sunny,” Orlu whispered.

  “Yes,” Udide said. “But what difference does that make?”

  “We’re her friends,” Chichi said, stepping up beside her. She leaned heavily on Orlu, trying to look tough. “We’ll suffer whatever she suffers. She’s not alone.”

  “And we don’t suffer without making others suffer,” Sasha added.

  “Sasha from America,” Udide said. “My Book of Shadows found you, and it will kill you. That will make a great story.”

  “Don’t worry. I know how to use it,” Sasha said with obviously false bravado.

  “That’s not how your story goes,” Udide said. “You will die by that book.”

  “No, he won’t,” Chichi screeched. “We’ve both used it! We’re . . .”

  “I only have business with this incomplete, damaged one,” Udide said. “Sunny Nwazue, why have you come?”

  “I . . . I need something from you. A flying grasscutter.”

  “What will you give me in return?”

  Sunny thought about it for a moment. Then she said what she’d planned to say, especially after Orlu had just saved all of them by doing the same thing. “A story,” she said. Udide’s hairs rippled with what Sunny could only guess was delight.

  “You know me well,” she said. “But you must remember, I am storyteller. I am old. I’ve dwelled for years at a time beneath this city over many decades. Since its birth. I lie on my back and I put my legs to the ceiling of this cave and I listen to the vibration of Lagos. I listen to its millions of stories. And I weave just as many. Lagos breathes stories. It is life and death; it is many worlds in one. And I have done the same in many cities of the world. New York, Cairo, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Dubai, Rio. Tell me a story I have not heard.”

  The spider got down low in front of Sunny. She came very close, within a foot. Sunny felt her bladder try to let go. She squeezed and stayed where she stood. Her friends were behind her, but as Udide stared deep into Sunny’s eyes with her door-sized eyes, Sunny was alone. Alone with a giant storytelling, probably immortal, hyper-intelligent, merciless spider.

  “No,” Sunny said. She felt Anyanwu inside her, part of her. “I can’t tell you a story you have not heard. But I can tell you my own particular story. It’s mine. Only mine. There is only one me in this world. So in a way, maybe yes, this is the only story of its kind.” She took a deep breath and then began to talk.

  “I lived the first nine years of my life in New York City.” Her legs were shaking, and something in her said she should sit down. Her experience with Sugar Cream’s office told her that there would be spiders on the floor, but these spiders were smart and she doubted they’d climb on her. Even the ones in Sugar Cream’s office knew not to do this . . . unless they meant to. So she sat before Udide in the dirt of the cave. She turned to her friends and nodded. They, too, sat. Then, miraculously, Udide also settled. She did not sit, because spiders do not sit. However, she rested her legs a bit and puffed out her fumes and made a contented hum that seemed to come from deep in her abdomen.

  Sunny shut her eyes for a moment and calmed herself. Anyanwu, she said in her mind. Give me strength. Help me tell this well. Once Sunny started talking, she found that it wasn’t as hard as she thought to tell a giant spider and her best friends about the most painful day of her childhood.

  I went to a Catholic school in Manhattan. My classmates were all kinds. You had Africans; African Americans; American whites; all kinds of Caribbeans; some Asians, mostly from India and Pakistan; multiracial; Muslims, Jews, Christians, Hindus. I should have fit right in. Mostly, I did. I had a lot of friends. But though we were all mixed up there, the other kids really didn’t mix, you know? Kids stayed with their own kinds, especially black and white. The African people kept to themselves in my school. The African Americans acted like they were kings. And queens.

  I sort of moved from group to group. I didn’t fit in anywhere. I was African, but not really African. I was born in America, but not really African American. Half the time, I didn’t understand African American slang. I had a bit of a Nigerian accent that I’d picked up from my parents, which was strange since I was born in America. I loved the Caribbeans, but we all knew I wasn’t one of them, either. I was light-skinned like the whites, but my puffy hair and the way I look, I could never fool anyone.

  This one day when I was in third grade was bad. Those older African American girls, I don’t know why they hated me so much. They truly truly hated me. I think if I had been hit by a car and was dying in the street, they’d point and laugh and watch my slow death. Anyway, this day, I went to the bathroom during my lunch, and they followed me in there. They must have followed me. You had to ask permission to go to the bathroom, and there were four of them. No te
acher would have let them all go at the same time like that. They snuck out. To follow me. It wasn’t a coincidence.

  I knew they were in there with me while I was in my stall. So I waited and waited. But I could see their feet. They weren’t going anywhere. They were waiting, too. For me to come out. Anytime a girl would come in, they’d bark at her to go use another bathroom. Eventually, I knew I had to come out. I couldn’t stay in there all day and miss my classes. So I flushed the toilet and came out.

  These were sixth graders. Big ones. The leader was this overweight, very angry girl named Faye Jackson. She was always getting into fights with other girls in her grade. She’d only spit cruel names at me; we’d never fought. I don’t know why they came after me this day.

  I moved quickly to the faucet to wash my hands. They stood at the sink near the door, blocking any quick exit I could make. So I was forced to go to the sink farthest away from them, near the foggy window on the far side of the bathroom, farthest from the door. Bad move. As soon as I did this, they closed in.

  “Why you so ugly?” Faye asked as they stood over me.

  “She so nasty,” one of the other girls said. Her name was Shanika, and she was never mean to me except when she was with Faye. “Shouldn’t you be at the retard school?”

  “At least away from us,” Yinka said. Yinka was Nigerian, but you wouldn’t know it the way she tried to hide it. She was very dark-skinned, too, except for her face, which she was always slathering with skin-bleaching cream. And when she wasn’t, her mother was. You’d see her mother do it to her every morning when she dropped her off at school. “Wouldn’t want any disease that would eat all my color like that,” Yinka added.