Sunny and the Mysteries of Osisi

  “Do I have a choice?” Sunny asked. It wasn’t a good time to do this, either. The doubling made working juju more difficult, and the effects of it still left her feeling… beside herself. And even if they made it to this full place, what effect would being there have on someone who’d been doubled?

  “Yes,” Orlu said.

  Sunny chuckled. “If my parents allow it, I do. Will you come?”

  “You need to ask me?”

  “For this, I think I do.”

  He nodded. “I’ll come.”

  “I’m not sure if I like the idea of being in a Jeep with Sasha and Chichi with Chukwu driving.”

  “Sasha will sit in the passenger seat,” Orlu said. “That’ll calm his ego. Chichi will sit behind him. You will sit in the middle and I will sit behind Chukwu. There will be less trouble that way and you’ll be in the most protected position.”

  “You think I need to be…”

  “Yes,” he said. “Sunny, I don’t think you fully understand your position in this.”

  “I do,” she said.

  “No, you don’t.”

  They were quiet. Sunny thought of the last thing the possessed Bola had said just before the friendly wilderness spirit possessing her left her body: “Ekwensu is getting her rest. She will strike soon. Gather yourselves.” Ekwensu would strike at her, Sunny, first.

  “Maybe,” Sunny said. “But Ekwensu hates me and I’ve seen what was in the candle, Orlu. I know better than anyone what’s coming.” She paused. “If I can help stop it, I’m ready to do what I need to do.” She sighed. “Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  20

  ROAD TRIP

  It was days before Christmas, and Chukwu had come home from university. Sunny was in the kitchen cooking rice and stew when she heard him drive into the compound blasting Nas. Sasha would have been impressed. Nas was Sasha’s favourite rapper of all time.

  Chukwu was with his best friend who’d nearly gotten him killed, Adebayo. Sunny eyed him as she added the last of the chicken wings to the stew and set it on low heat. She knew Adebayo but not that well. When he came by, he’d disappear into her brothers’ room with Chukwu to play video games. As they grew older, they’d immediately be off to play soccer or join those boxing matches Chukwu had never told her about or whatever they did.

  The Adebayo whom Sunny knew was from that fateful night with the Red Sharks. He hadn’t seen her, but she’d seen him. All she could think now as she approached him and her brother, both of whom were bobbing their heads to the loud music, was that this idiot had slapped Chukwu across the face. How were they still friends? And from the swollen looks of the muscles bursting from their designer T-shirts, they’d continued working out in that dank sweaty basement of a gym.

  “Welcome,” Sunny said, smiling at Chukwu as she walked up to the car. “How na dey?”

  “I dey kanpe,” he said, giving her a hug. “I’m fine.”

  She looked at Adebayo and felt a cool satisfaction when even with his muscles he seemed to shrink in her presence. “Good afternoon,” she said to him.

  He grunted, “Hello.”

  Sunny waited for Chukwu to greet their parents with Adebayo, drop Adebayo off at his home, and come back. She cornered him in the kitchen when she knew Ugonna was in his room submerged in a video conversation on his computer and their parents were watching a Nollywood film in the living room. Chukwu was microwaving some jollof rice and two large pieces of goat meat.

  “Is that supposed to be a snack?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, moving past her to sit at the table. He flexed his arms as he put the plate down. “Gotta feed these.”

  Sunny rolled her eyes and grabbed two plantain. “Want some?”

  “Of course.”

  She brought out a knife and sliced the first one down the skin. She removed the thick peel and put the plantain on a plate and did the same with the next. “So how have things been?” she ventured. “At school.” Her back was to him but she didn’t have to look to see that he’d stiffened.

  “Very well,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “Next semester, my biology professor wants me to be his assistant lecturer.”

  This time Sunny stiffened. To be a student lecturer was a highly respected position that students fought tooth and nail to get. It gave you valued teaching experience and broadcast to everyone that you were a top student. In addition, it showed that you had clout. It was one of the biggest reasons people joined confraternities.

  “Really?” she said.

  She turned around to find her brother looking straight at her. His face serious. “Yeah,” he said. “Everyone is afraid of me.” His face cracked into a smile. “They think I have strong juju, so they don’t want to mess with me.”

  Sunny sat down across from him.

  “What did you and Chichi do?” he asked.

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “So you did something?”

  “Can’t say.”

  He laughed. “That’s what Chichi says. She gets all tricky and mysterious and tight-lipped. You want to know what Adebayo thinks?”

  “What does he think?”

  “He had terrible nightmares about me when I was gone,” he said. “About me being sliced up and my parts given to some ritual killer. He said he woke up with his heart slamming in his chest. He thought he was having a heart attack. He thinks God sent witches to take his life. Capo, I have seen him, but he won’t even look at me. He gets all shaky, starts muttering about Jesus, and practically runs in the opposite direction. All the teachers, I don’t know what people are telling them. They smile a lot at me and ask me if I need any help with studying. My maths professor offered to give me answers to the exam. I said no.”

  “Take no help,” Sunny snapped with disgust. “What would be the point if it was all just…”

  “I know,” he said. “We both love soccer. What would be the point if we didn’t have to play well to win, right? Same thing with school. I believe in learning… just like you.”

  Sunny nodded.

  He smirked. “That’s what I like about Chichi. Well, and because na dey beautiful, o.”

  Sunny rolled her eyes. Does he even know about Sasha?! she wondered. She considered asking, then decided it wasn’t her business.

  “Chukwu,” she said. “I’ve got a favour to ask you.” She got up to finish slicing the plantain.

  “What is it?”

  She sliced for a bit before speaking. If he said no, she had no idea how they’d get to Lagos. Maybe they’d find a funky train that drove out there. But how would she get the time away… without their father disowning her? No, she had to do this very, very carefully.

  “We need to go to Lagos for something,” she blurted, turning to him. “Can you take us? It’s important.”

  She quickly turned to her plantain, horrified with herself. She’d never been good at subtlety. That was Orlu’s strength. This was her brother who used to punch her hard in the arm and call her Clorox as a way of showing sibling love. How could she be subtle or careful with him?

  “What’s so important there?” he asked.

  “Don’t tell Mum or Dad,” she said. “I…”

  “You aren’t involved in some dangerous cult thing, right?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “Nothing like that. I just need to… meet with someone. Please, I can’t say more. You just have to trust me. Even if you won’t take–”

  “I’ll take you,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I owe you.”

  Sunny shook her head. “No, you don’t.”

  “You did something that got me out of a bad situation.”

  “You’d do the same for me. You’re my brother.”

  They stood looking at each other for a long time. Sunny’s heart beat fast with emotion as she remembered how he’d looked
that night. She couldn’t keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

  “Okay,” he said softly. “I don’t owe you.”

  “So why help me?”

  He shrugged. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Okay,” Sunny said, her throat tight. She turned back to her plantain, grabbing a pan and pouring vegetable oil into it. She added a bit of palm oil for flavour, just as her mother had taught her, and then turned on the heat.

  “Plus, Adebayo will be there. He’s spending the break at the house of his rich uncle and auntie. They’re travelling to London, and they needed someone to watch their house.” He laughed. “He’ll have a huge mansion on Victoria Island all to himself. Living there like a king. Let me call him. When do you want to go?”

  “Just after Christmas. We can spend New Year’s there, maybe.”

  “So you and Chichi? And those other two, too?”

  “Yes, me, Chichi, Orlu, and S-Sasha.” Her face grew hot.

  “Who is this Sasha? The American, right?” Chukwu asked.

  Sunny bit her lip. “Yeah, he’s…”

  “Oh, I know about him,” Chukwu said. He said no more and Sunny was relieved.

  “You think Ugonna will want to come?” Sunny quickly asked.

  “And not be here with his sweetheart to ring in the New Year? Doubtful.”

  Sunny scrunched her nose. “You mean Dolapo?” She’d met the girl once and was deeply annoyed by the way she looked Sunny up and down and then giggled. Since, Sunny hadn’t spoken a word to her when Ugonna brought her around.

  “The one and only.”

  “I’ll ask anyway,” Sunny said.

  But Chukwu was right. Ugonna wasn’t interested in Lagos, unless he could bring Dolapo. Plus, there wasn’t enough room in the Jeep.

  With Chukwu doing the asking, convincing their parents was even easier. “I guess you could use the break,” her father said. He didn’t say a thing about Sunny and her friends tagging along. He didn’t even look at her. With the proud way he clapped Chukwu on the back, Sunny knew they’d be assured plenty of gas money and her father would entrust Chukwu with a nice amount of spending money, too. Good. She was going to Lagos to meet a giant spider.

  21

  BOOK OF SHADOWS

  Today, it’s raining in the forest. But by now you know that the water will not drench you. Not that badly. The Idiok have taken shelter, however. They don’t like the mud, and the sound of the rain hitting the tree leaves is good for sleep. Those with young babies will be blessed with much-needed rest.

  We are walking in my favourite part of the forest. I was attracted to this place, and that was how the Idiok knew to teach me Nsibidi. Look around you. Do you see that tree to your left with the smooth, narrow trunk and the tiny oval-shaped leaves? Yes, look all the way up and see that it stretches so high that it disappears into the rainclouds. It goes much higher than any normal tree. Imagine the things that crawl up and down that tree, into and out of the forest.

  Do you see the vines that wind around it? Yes, you are seeing correctly. They have light green delicate leaves that look delicious enough to eat. I have eaten them; they taste fresh like lettuce. And see their white-pink flowers? See how they open and close, not slowly, not quickly? Like they are one great winding beast that is breathing? And see the ghost hopper perched on the tree trunk beside it? This part of my forest was full—a place that was both wilderness and physical world.

  Lambs of the area avoided this place, deeming it long ago a forbidden forest. The patch of forest was small, no more than twenty square metres and easy to avoid, so for centuries, maybe even millennia, it had simply been left alone. For me, being a Leopard Person, it was seeing two layers of reality at once—the magical and the physical. I loved this place as the Idiok did.

  By now, you may have come to understand. This book isn’t about learning Nsibidi or my life or how to shape-shift. These are all things that I used to pull you off the ground. If you’ve gotten this far, you are strong in mind and body now. You know how to eat to live, you know how to plan, you know when you need rest, and you love Nsibidi. You are not my equal but you have my respect, for you are one of my kind. Good.

  Right now, this book is about the city of smoke, a huge swath of land in this country that is full. Osisi. I pray that you will not have to see it, for it’s not a place for any person who values his life, but if you have, if you have dreamed it, then you currently are the purpose of this book. There will be more than one of you, but only a handful. You…

  Sunny had to fight her way out of the Nsibidi’s grasp. This was one thing wholly unaffected by the doubling: her ability to read Nsibidi. She shook her head, flaring her nostrils and frowning, pressing Sugar Cream’s book to her chest. As soon as she could see the light of her reading lamp and she could move her hands, she threw the book across the room. Tomorrow would be hard enough. Now this. All the threads of her life seemed to be winding into a tight bizarre rope that the universe expected her to walk across. Her brother, her questions, Sugar Cream’s book… yes, Trickster was a damn good name for it. A perfect name for it. Nsibidi: The Magical Language of the Spirits literally shape-shifted, and not only in appearance (the symbols on the cover moved around like bugs) but in reasons for existing, in voice, in narrative. Was it even the same book for every reader?

  And why did she have to get to this part on the morning they were leaving? “This is wahala,” she whispered, lying back in her bed. She felt the usual reading fatigue that came with reading the book, and her head still ached from her fresh braids. Last night her mother had cornrowed her bushy yellow hair. The braids were long enough to touch her shoulders. Her hair was really growing. It was nearly the length it had been back when she’d burned it off while gazing into the candle. Two years ago. She’d pressed her Mami Wata comb into one of the side rows. It looked a little asymmetrically strange, but she’d come to see the comb as good luck. She wasn’t about to stop wearing it when they were going where they were going to do what they were going to do.

  Bzzz!

  She smiled and got up to turn on her bedroom light. It was about 5am and still dark outside, and she’d been using her reading light. When she turned her light on, Della buzzed its wings louder. Sunny’s eyebrows went up, and she slowly walked to her cabinet for a better look. Then she just stood there, her mouth open. Staring.

  It was a head. She could not tell what Della had used to create it. Maybe the petals of some sort of yellow flower or maybe yellow paper or some kind of yellow paste that it had found in the market. There was gold, too. The face was ringed with pointy gold rays, like a sun. The nose was wide-nostrilled and flat like her father’s. The yellow lips were smiling. The eyes were hazel, as if “God had run out of the right colour.” They were her eyes. This was her. Della had sculpted a perfect blend of her human and spirit face, Sunny and Anyanwu. How does one hug an insect? she wondered. “Della,” she whispered. “I…”

  The insect quickly flew circles around her head and then hovered in front of her eyes. Sunny smiled. This was its way of saying, No need for words.

  “Do you understand that I will be gone for a few days?”

  The insect buzzed.

  “You’ve been in here when Chichi and I were talking,” she said. “So you know what is going on.”

  It buzzed again.

  “Should I be afraid?”

  It flew to its art, stood on top of it, and buzzed its wings.

  Sunny chuckled. Her wasp artist seemed to know who she was more than she did. And it thought rather highly of her. Della flew up to her and touched her forehead with its long, limp legs and then zipped into its nest on the ceiling.

  There was a knock on her door. It was Chukwu.

  “Good morning,” she said. “I’m going to get dressed in a little bit. I…”

  “I need to know something,” he quietly said, coming in.

  Sunny shut the door behind him. “Okay,” she said.

  “You still can’t t
alk about it, can you?”

  She shook her head. If she spoke, her words would feel heavy and slow the way they always did when she skirted too close to speaking directly about being Leopard.

  “Is whatever you all are doing in Lagos dangerous?” he asked.

  Sunny thought about it. “We can handle it,” she said.

  “It doesn’t involve any of these ritual people? Because they’re murderers and…”

  “I’ve never ever been involved with those people,” she firmly said.

  “Lagos is a big crazy place for you,” he added.

  “No more than it is for you. Plus, Orlu and Chichi know it well,” she said. “And Sasha has… international street smarts.”

  Chukwu scoffed. “Sasha? No comment.”

  “We’ll be fine,” she said. “And I’ll have my cell phone.” But if all went as planned, there would be a few days where he wouldn’t be able to reach her. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it.

  What Sunny was more worried about was Sasha and Chukwu being in the same space for so many hours. As far as Sunny knew, Chichi refused to make a choice between the two, and both refused to cut things off with Chichi, so the love triangle was very much intact. How was this even going to go?

  There was another knock on the door.

  “What are you talking about in here?” Ugonna said, coming in.

  “Just the trip,” Chukwu said. “Why are you up?”

  “Are you planning something?” he asked, ignoring Chukwu’s question. He was looking at Sunny.

  “No…”

  “Because I don’t see why you and your friends are going,” he continued.

  “If you want to go,” Sunny said, “you could squeeze in. We talked about this.”

  “I’m not going,” he said. “I just want to know why you are.” He put his arms across his chest. “I got a weird feeling about it.”

  Sunny was about to say he was just imagining things. She was about to laugh and say he sounded like their superstitious aunt Udobi. But she couldn’t do it. For months her brother had been sensing things about her, drawing and drawing pictures that she now realised were of Osisi. He was worried about her in a way that only a brother could worry about his sister. “It’s something I have to do,” Sunny said, taking his hands and looking right into his eyes.