“Time might take care of it,” Sunny muttered.
They were all silent for a moment. A glint in the forest caught Sunny’s eye. “Hey,” she said, pointing. It was red, like a bunch of Christmas lights in the thick grass.
“Good eye, Sunny,” Orlu said. They all ran up to the peppers. The stems reached past Sunny’s waist, and the peppers on them were plump and plentiful. Up close they looked exactly like those chili pepper lights Sunny would see in Mexican restaurants back in the United States. The pepper bugs were easy to spot as they lumbered contently up and down the stems, batting and pressing on the peppers with their thick antennae.
“Damn, never seen these before,” Sasha said.
“That’s because you probably only take a path to Kehinde’s,” Orlu said. “Pepper bugs live off the beaten path.”
Sasha rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever.”
“So how do we get them?” Sunny asked. “If we were asked to do this, I assume it’s not going to be easy.”
“We have to get them in this pot,” Orlu said. “They’re hot, so they’d melt through a plastic jar.”
“Are they fast?” Chichi asked, looking at them with disgust.
“No.” He handed them each a metal spatula with a rubber handle. “Get them to walk onto it, put them in the pot, and put the lid on.”
Sunny crept up to one and almost immediately started sneezing. Not from juju powder, but from the strong peppery fumes that suddenly emitted from the insect. “Ugh,” she said, sneezing again.
“Jesus!” she heard Sasha exclaim a few feet away.
“Oh, sorry,” Orlu said. “I forgot to add that when they feel threatened, they ‘pepper up.’”
“Then how are we supposed to get them?” Chichi asked.
“Like this,” Orlu said, creeping up to one. “Slowly. Move smoothly.” He gently coaxed the glowing insect onto his spatula. It put a leg onto the flat metal and then took it off. Orlu nudged it a bit more and eventually the insect stepped on. Slowly, Orlu placed it in the pot, where it stepped off. He put the lid on. “There.” The pot began to grow red with heat. “That’s why Anatov gave me the oven mitts. When they realize they’ve been captured, they get really angry and heat up.”
Once she stopped sneezing, Sunny was able to catch her bug pretty easily. With much cursing and sneezing, Sasha managed to get his, too. Chichi, however, kept getting hit with fumes. By this time, the entire colony of pepper bugs was on to them. When she was blasted with fumes a fourth time after taking five minutes to creep up on one bug, she shouted, “I HATE ALL OF YOU STUPID BEASTS! GO AND DIE!”
Orlu took her hand. “Sorry, o,” he said, as she blew her nose into the tissue Sunny had given her. “Let me try something.”
He held up his hands and did that thing he naturally did that undid any negative juju. His hands bent, contorted, and twisted as he undid whatever juju the bugs had apparently worked. Then he said, “We mean no harm. We are just taking some of you to another place nearby to start a fresh pepper patch. I know you can fly. You can visit and cross-pollinate. If one of you wishes to be adventurous, come.”
“Come on, dude, no insect is ever so reasonable.” Sasha laughed.
But one of them was, for a pepper bug slowly walked up to Chichi. She looked at Orlu, who nodded. She bent down and let it walk voluntarily onto her spatula. When she put it in the pot, after about ten seconds, the pot’s hot redness faded.
“It’s cool,” Orlu said when he touched the side of his pot tentatively. “That last bug must have told the others what I said.” He picked up the pot using the oven mitts, regardless. “Most insects have a tricky side.”
When they brought the bugs back to Anatov, they watched as he let them loose in his dying pepper patch. The four insects congregated in a square in the center of the dead and dying peppers and brought their legs and hands together, closing the square.
“You all did well,” Anatov said, as they watched the insects perform their healing ceremony. “They’ll be at this all night. By morning there will be fresh new shoots. You can go home now.”
Sunny’s lessons with Sugar Cream were even more challenging. Unlike Anatov, Sugar Cream didn’t have Sunny go out and buy books. She was the Head Librarian; they had all the books they needed right there in the building. They always met in her office on the third floor of the Obi Library. Usually, they met Saturdays. But this weekend, they met on a Sunday evening because Sugar Cream had had an important meeting Saturday afternoon. Sunny couldn’t help but suspect that Sugar Cream also wanted Sunny to journey to Leopard Knocks at night, forcing her to deal with the river beast and her fear of the lake beast. Thankfully, Sunny’s journey to Leopard Knocks that evening had been uneventful and she’d arrived at Sugar Cream’s office promptly at nine P.M.
Sugar Cream was leaning against the doorway when Sunny reached the top of the stairs. “There you are,” Sugar Cream said, smirking. “Come in. Let’s get started.”
Sugar Cream’s focus for the first two weeks had been on the rules and regulations of being a Leopard Person. She had Sunny not only read the thin and annoyingly prejudiced book Fast Facts for Free Agents two more times, but she also had Sunny write a research paper pointing out and deconstructing the book’s bias. Sunny had never had to write such a difficult paper in her life. It forced her to not only look at the way she was given information but also at the background of the author Isong Abong Effiong Isong. It turned out that Isong was not only educated in the West but had fled from Nigeria after a terrible experience with armed robbers. For this reason, Isong had developed a fear and hatred of all things Nigerian. Though the research paper was tough to write, Sunny was glad she’d been forced to write it. Now she understood not only the rules the book taught but how to read those rules. Several small silver chittim had fallen during the writing of that paper.
Sugar Cream had also brought Sunny to several Library Council meetings where Sunny had to dress up and sit quietly behind Sugar Cream. Her mentor met with elders from all over the country and once with elders from all over the world. In this way, Sunny learned that the Leopard People were an organized group who kept many of the world’s ills from being worse than they were. Who’d have thought that so much of Nigeria’s corruption was stopped by the organized jujus of Leopard elders from a variety of Nigeria’s states? Certainly not Sunny. The idea that things in Nigeria could have been a lot worse scared her deeply.
Sunny had also met some of Sugar Cream’s important colleagues outside of meetings. Only two weeks ago, Sunny had entered Sugar Cream’s office and nearly run into the chest of a tall Arab man. He’d worn white flowing garments and a white turban and smelled of sweet incense. Sunny had remembered him from a year ago during the meeting she and the others had with a group of Africa’s greatest elders not long before they were sent to deal with Black Hat. From what she recalled, at least part of this man’s name was Ali and he could shape-shift into a colorful toucan.
Sunny had stepped back. “I’m sorry, Oga Ali,” she’d said in Igbo. Most library elders spoke many languages and at the meeting he’d expressed a serious dislike of Americans. Best to not speak her American-accented English.
He had surprised her with a smile. “Sunny Nwazue,” he’d said. “You look well. Being mentored by Sugar Cream is good for you.”
Sunny wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or an insult. She’d smiled and said, “Thank you.”
He had turned to her mentor, who had a frown on her face. “We will talk later, my dear.”
Sugar Cream had nodded. “Go well.”
“Inshallah,” he’d said, closing the door behind him.
Sugar Cream fed Sunny books on African Leopard history and Leopard politics from around the world; she even gave Sunny a few novels by local Leopard authors. Sunny didn’t think any of these were very good; Sugar Cream had laughed and agreed with her.
Neverthele
ss, it was the lessons in gliding that rocked Sunny’s world the most, and tonight, this was the focus. “Sit, Sunny. Sit,” Sugar Cream told her. She set down her bunch of books on the floor, looked around for red spiders, and, when she saw none nearby, sat down. Sugar Cream settled at her desk, an agitated look on her face. She suddenly looked at Sunny. “I was going to test you on your Leopard history readings, but I have changed my mind. Watch closely.”
As Sunny observed, she felt like screaming. Never had Sugar Cream changed before her. She’d only spoken of her natural talent. Sugar Cream could change into a snake, and then she could slip through time. Sunny had never been fond of snakes, so she wasn’t eager to see her mentor do it. And now Sunny knew she’d been right to not ask.
Sugar Cream was a frail old woman of medium height. She had rich brown skin and a face that reminded Sunny of her grandmother on her father’s side. She had no idea if her mentor was Igbo, Hausa, Yoruba, Efik, Ijaw, Fulani, or any other ethnicity. Sugar Cream didn’t know either, really, since she’d been abandoned in the jungle when she was very young. If Sunny had to guess, she’d have said Yoruba. But all this began to melt. Her clothes billowed as they were emptied. The wrinkly skin on Sugar Cream’s face began to shrink. Her entire body shriveled in on itself. Sunny felt nauseated and couldn’t hide the look of complete disgust on her face. Her stomach lurched, and she hunched forward just as Sugar Cream’s now lumpy flesh of a body collapsed forward on her desk with a soft thump. The same brown as her skin, it writhed and rolled.
Sunny gasped, shutting her eyes tightly. Count to ten, a papery and dry voice whispered within Sunny’s head. Then see me.
Sunny slowly counted to ten. When she opened her eyes, she was looking into the green-yellow gaze of a large bright green snake. To speak while in alternate form, Sugar Cream said in her head, must be learned. But to change, once you have mastered it, is not difficult.
She did not move, her body still mostly in her clothes. When Sugar Cream changed back, Sunny understood why she’d stayed in place. She filled her clothes with the ease of an expert. “To see me change back does not have the nauseating effect,” Sugar Cream said. “It’s only the first time that throws one off. You will not experience that again when you see me change. Also, your gift is different from mine. When you change into mist and glide, you can bring your clothes.”
They started first with breathing, for part of gliding between the wilderness and the physical world was understanding that you typically had to stop breathing to do it for any extended period of time. “You can glide across the bridge or through a keyhole. That is easy,” Sugar Cream said. “But can you glide from here to your house?”
Gliding between the wilderness and the physical world was one thing, but Sunny knew what Sugar Cream was slowly working her toward. Dropping completely into the wilderness. To do so meant she’d have to die, really truly die. But she was born with this ability, so she would be able to always come back . . . if she did it correctly. She wasn’t in any hurry to try, and Sugar Cream wasn’t in a rush to have her try, either. “Not this year,” Sugar Cream said. “But maybe next year or the year after that.”
Sugar Cream worked her hard. After the gliding exercises, they worked on Night Frames, various states of being that you achieved only during the night. Night Frames required a combination of juju knife flourishes, humming deep in the throat, and a blue juju powder that left her skin oily. Night Frames were primary phases of slipping wholly into the wilderness.
“You don’t want to enter the wilderness and not be able to come out,” Sugar Cream firmly said. “That is death, of course. So you practice slipping in and then out, bit by bit. The night is when the barrier between the physical and spirit worlds is thinnest.”
One had to die in order to go into the wilderness, so one had to birth her- or himself back. And one had to be strong to give birth. Though Sunny was born with the natural ability to do both, even she knew that talent and ability was best honed. Sunny had solemnly nodded and then the work began. They practiced two frames, which Sunny achieved easily enough but found she had to work to hold. Over and over, the humming, the blowing of the powder, the sneezing, then the colors that began to bleed into everything. By the time Sugar Cream sent her home, she felt as if her world was vibrating.
Sugar Cream’s lessons; Anatov’s teachings; Lamb school; hanging out with Chichi, Orlu, and Sasha; her strangely changing body—Sunny was overwhelmed, yet learning and absorbing so much. As she sat in her seat on the near-empty funky train home, she’d curled her body toward the window and shut her eyes. She took a deep breath, truly relaxing for the first time in hours, and this was when she felt that sensation of being pulled into two. Her eyes shot open and as she stared out the window, she began to quietly weep.
“Anyanwu?” she whispered. And then she heard herself respond in a deep voice, “Sleep, Sunny, I am here.”
9
HOW FAR?
Sunny groaned as she opened the gate. The night sky hadn’t begun to warm yet, but soon it would and the morning birds were already singing.
She’d slept the entire ride back on the funky train. Thankfully, the driver, a tall old woman named Magnificent, who saw her often at this late hour, knew Sunny’s stop. Magnificent shouted, “Sunny! You’re home! Go and sleep!” Sunny jumped to her feet and dragged herself from the juju-powered vehicle before she knew what was happening. The funky train silently glided off, leaving only a puff of rose-scented air and her in the dark standing before the gate to her house.
Her chin to her chest, she quietly unlocked and pushed the gate open just enough to slip through. She trudged toward the front door. The house alarm wouldn’t be on, nor would her father or mother be waiting up for her, though she suspected they were anxiously listening for her return. They didn’t ask questions anymore. Good. That was one stress gone. Her skin still felt oily from the enhancement powder, and her sensitive nose was stuffed with snot. She’d need a good shower before going to bed and that would rob her of fifteen minutes out of the four hours of sleep she could snatch before she had to leave for school.
She stuck her key into the hole. She could pass through the keyhole, but there was always the chance that her brother or parents would be right there. Then she’d find herself sentenced to a caning by the Library Council for exposing the Leopard People’s ways. Would they wipe or alter the memories of her family? Who knew what they did. Now that she didn’t have to sneak around, it definitely wasn’t worth the risk.
Creak!
She froze. Someone was opening the gate behind her. It was several yards away; she could throw the door open and lock it behind her. Or she could just risk it and pass through the keyhole. Ekwensu, she thought. What if it’s Ekwensu? But why would the physical world’s greatest adversary have to push open a gate? Armed robbers, then? But the gate was locked. Did they have a key? Was juju used to get in? Was the lock picked?
She whirled around, dropping her backpack and bringing out her juju knife. What am I doing? she thought, horrified.
The gate opened. Adrenaline flooded her system, causing a ringing in her ears and cold sweat to break from her skin. She crept closer. A shadow peeked around the gate. He looked right at her.
“Sunny?” he gasped.
“Chukwu?” She quickly put her knife into her pocket.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why aren’t you at school?” Sunny blurted.
They stared at each other. Her brother was dark-skinned and standing in the shadows, so she couldn’t quite see the expression on his face.
“I . . . I just got home,” she said, stepping closer.
“From wherever it is you go?” he asked. He moved away from her, holding on to the gate.
“Where’s your Jeep?” she asked.
“Parked it on the street,” he said. “Don’t . . .” He stepped away from her some more and, in doing so, moved into the d
im moonlight.
Sunny clapped her hands over her mouth and gasped. “What happened?!”
Her brother had gotten quite muscular in the last year. He’d not only discovered weight-lifting, he’d discovered that he really, truly, madly loved it. Sunny knew that aside from kicking a soccer ball around, there was nothing he loved more than to be in the gym lifting until his muscles vibrated. Now Sunny could see that he’d gotten even bigger since leaving for school weeks ago. Still, at this moment, he looked like a pummeled, scared teenager. His left eye was swollen shut, and his mouth looked like it carried two golf balls. He held on to the gate with a big hand.
Sunny stepped up to him and touched his face. He looked away. “Chukwu, what . . .”
“Mummy and Daddy can’t know that I’m here,” he said.
“Why?”
“I need to get the money I have in my room. Then I’ll leave.” He looked into her eyes. “I don’t want to put anyone here in danger.” His face twitched and he frowned, one tear falling down his cheek.
Sunny felt her eyes sting, too. This was her brother Chukwu, whose name meant “Supreme Being,” because he was “God’s gift to women,” or so he liked to brag. This was her oldest brother, who had tormented her since she was a baby, and protected her, too, in his own rough way.
“C-Come on,” she said, her voice shaking. She wrapped her arm around his. “Lean on me. I’ll get you inside.”
They moved fast, heading straight to Sunny’s room. Sunny banked on the fact that her parents would assume it was just her entering the house and not their oldest son who’d run away from the university they were paying so much for him to attend. She locked the door as he sat on her bed. In the light, she saw that he looked far worse than she’d thought. She took a deep breath and steadied herself; this was not a time to cry.
“Where is the money?” she asked. “I’ll get it for you.”
He frowned. “What? No, no, it’s in a secret spot. It’ll be . . .”
Akata Warrior Page 7
