Sunny and the Mysteries of Osisi

by Nnedi Okorafor

  All this soothed her, but by the time night came, it all sat right back on her shoulders, weighty as bags of sand. It was an overcast night and thunder rumbled in the clouds above. She’d slept poorly, as she had for the last two nights. She hadn’t spoken to Chichi, Orlu, or Sasha, she hadn’t worked one small juju, no Leopard Knocks, which meant no Sugar Cream. She’d have said that this was her life before realising her Leopardom, but it wasn’t. Before, she’d had a group of other friends, and she’d never known of that other side of her that was now gone, and Sunny knew she could never ever go back. It was like being left on an island. Her Saturday meetings with Sugar Cream and Wednesdays with Anatov and the others. Even Lamb school would be a problem. How would she face Orlu?

  No going forwards, no going backwards. “It’s like being dead,” she whispered. The thunder rumbled some more and she suddenly jumped up and strode to her closet. She threw on some shorts and a T-shirt, sandals, grabbed her soccer ball, and was out the back door. Her parents might wonder where she’d gone, Ugonna, too. Let them, she thought, tears streaming down her face.

  The field where they played soccer wasn’t far. Especially when she walked with purpose. Her long, strong legs got her there in no time, and when she stepped onto the empty, slightly overgrown fields, she dropped the ball and kicked it hard. She jogged after the ball into the centre of the field and stopped it with her foot. She looked up into the churning grey sky. There was a flash of lightning and then several seconds later, the rumble of thunder.

  She knew the juju to prevent being struck by lightning, a variation of the rain-deflecting juju one used when caught in a downpour. Sunny chuckled bitterly to herself and kicked her soccer ball. “Let it strike,” she muttered as she worked the ball with her fast feet. Back, to the side, tapping it in the air and catching it with the bottom of her foot behind her back, kicking it lightly forwards, behind, around. She smiled as she moved and dribbled the ball. She did a turn and kicked it back towards the other goal.

  She ran across the field and shot it into the goal, the soft whisper of net against ball making her heart leap with a familiar joy. She grabbed the ball with her feet and worked it across the field to the other side and did it again. And then she did it again. All alone under the churning sunless sky, she enjoyed her own footwork, imagining that she was playing a one-on-one game against herself. The air rushed in and out of her lungs. She threw off her sandals so she could feel the hard, uneven ground with her tough feet.

  She imagined she was trying to move the ball around her self, and this made her feet move faster. She did a bump and run, shoving herself out of the way and then taking off with the ball across the field. She laughed, because it had almost felt like she’d shoved someone. She’d shot the ball directly at the goal when she realised it. And her realisation was immediately verified when the ball didn’t go in. Instead, it was deflected by a seemingly invisible force.

  Then the force became visible, and Sunny thought for a moment lightning had struck the field. She stood before the goal as the ball rolled to her feet. She rested a bare foot on it and wiped sweat from her brow. All the movement had cleared her mind, eased her muscles, and filled her with joy. Nevertheless, it was almost as if the clarity made it so that the anger could flow through her blood more easily. It flooded her system so hot and full that the world around her seemed to swell.

  “Why’d you leave?” she shouted.

  Then she blasted the soccer ball right towards the blurred but bright yellow figure standing in the goal. The ball sailed through it, and then the blur dissolved to nothing. Sunny stood there staring with wide eyes. Raindrops began to fall.

  “I had to attend a meeting.”

  Sunny felt fury and surprise flip her belly as the rain came down harder. “A meeting?” she shouted. “You… you left me to go to a meeting?” Hot tears squeezed from her eyes and mixed with the cool rain.

  “Rain Shelf yourself,” Anyanwu said.

  “I can’t!” Sunny snapped. But maybe she could, now that Anyanwu was near. She decided to try, bringing out her juju knife. She blinked away tears as she worked the simple Rain Shelf juju and immediately the rain stopped falling on her, as if she held an umbrella.

  “You’re foolish,” Anyanwu said. “And needy. And insecure.”

  Now the tears came harder for Sunny, and she plopped down on the grass. The squelchy wetness of the grass felt as awful as she felt. When she looked up, she found herself facing a figure of soft, glowing yellow light. They stared at each other for what felt like minutes. Around them, heavy rain splashed down, lightning flashed and thunder responded. They sat in the middle of the soccer field, and for the moment, to Sunny there was no one else on earth.

  “Shut up,” Sunny muttered. A flash of lightning nearby made her jump. She looked at Anyanwu. “You did that!”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Anyanwu said.

  Sunny didn’t believe her. “You… you have always known who you are. You’re old, you know everything.” She had to stop to catch her breath, tears in her eyes again. “How am I supposed to believe in what I am when no one even knew this could happen? Even Orlu looked at me like I was an alien!”

  “Yes. You are insecure.”

  Sunny grabbed a handful of wet grass and threw it at Anyanwu. She blinked when the clump hit the soft glow and fell to the ground. She threw more. Then Anyanwu grabbed an even bigger clump and flung it at Sunny, hitting her right in the face. Some of it got in her mouth, and she spit it out.

  “Do you think I make you a Leopard Person?” Anyanwu asked.

  “Yes!”

  Anyanwu laughed. “I’m your spirit memory, I’m you outside of time, I’m your spirit face, I am you. You are me. Our Leopardom is within all that makes us.”

  “Then why couldn’t I go to Leopard Knocks that day?”

  “Because, as I said, you’re insecure.”

  Sunny pressed her lips together and frowned.

  “Our bond’s been broken,” Anyanwu continued. “That trauma… few will ever know it. We’ve gone through it twice; it took two traumas to tear it completely. When that djinn pulled us in and when Ekwensu took advantage and finished the job.”

  Sunny nodded as they both felt a ghost of the sharp pains that had reverberated through their entire being. Twice.

  “The second time, did you feel when we drifted?” Anyanwu asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That was when we should have died. We’d have lost this connected duality and returned to the wilderness as one again. But we lived, because we are Sunny and Anyanwu.” Sunny felt Anyanwu’s confident pleasure at this fact. “Sunny, you can work whatever juju you please, whether I am there or not. That’s why I say you’re insecure. You couldn’t get into Leopard Knocks because you didn’t believe you were a Leopard Person without me.”

  “But…”

  “Work a little harder and be more confident. Our bond is broken; some compensation is required. It’s like loving and cherishing someone without needing the bonds of marriage to enforce it,” Anyanwu said. “By sinister means, you and I are free.”

  Sunny sat with Anyanwu’s words, staring into the pouring rain. The lightning and thunder were fading. But even if they didn’t, she wasn’t afraid of being struck anymore. Sunny took a deep breath and then asked, “What was the meeting?”

  She could feel Anyanwu smile. “None of your business.”

  Sunny stared at Anyanwu for a moment and then burst out laughing. She got up and grabbed her soccer ball. It flew out of her hands as Anyanwu took off with it across the field. Sunny had to run fast to catch up with her. And the two played like that until the rain stopped.

  On the way back, she came upon Sasha walking up the road, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. By this time, the air had taken on so much humidity that breathing it was almost like drinking water.

  “What are you doing in the rain?” Sunny asked, slapping and grasping hands with him.

  “Looking for you.”
r />   “I was playing soccer,” she said, tossing her wet ball up and catching it.

  “With the lightning and thunder?”

  “You could say that.”

  “You’ve been avoiding us all weekend.”

  Sunny shrugged. They began to walk.

  “How come Orlu didn’t come?”

  Sasha shrugged again. “Said you probably needed some time to yourself. Me, I don’t mess around. I came to see what’s up. So, you good?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

  “Even after… after what happened with…”

  “Yeah. We can go to Leopard Knocks today, if you all want.” She hesitated and then said, “The river beast won’t stop me.” She could feel Anyanwu within her as she said it. And she could feel that her presence was different. Not so locked. And this was verified when she realised she suddenly didn’t feel Anyanwu within her. Anyanwu had gone off again, to wherever she went off to.

  Sasha looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “You’re different somehow.”

  “Yeah,” she said. Then she laughed, tossing her soccer ball in the air and catching it with her feet. She passed it to Sasha, who caught it and then tapped it back to Sunny. She caught it, brought out her juju knife, and worked a quick juju that rubbed off the mud. It hadn’t been difficult, but she noticed that she did have to concentrate a little harder on mentally aligning her words with her juju knife flourish.

  “Jollof rice and goat meat at Mama Put’s Putting Place?” Sasha asked.

  Sunny smiled. “Definitely. My treat.”

  19

  TRUST, SHA

  “My clothes were ruined, but I knew that would happen,” Orlu said, grinning wider than Sunny had ever seen him grin. “Nancy took me over the ocean!” His jeans were filthy with bright red palm oil and splashes of mud, as were his T-shirt and red Chuck Taylor gym shoes.

  He’d been working closely with his mentor Taiwo’s Miri Bird for the past two weeks, and he’d had a particularly interesting weekend. The bird, whose name was Nancy, regularly flew him up to Taiwo’s palm tree hut, and the two had cultivated a friendship. Orlu had since taken it upon himself to study Nancy’s species and ancestral bloodline. Flattered by his interest, the bird had agreed to take him for an extended ride to visit its mother forty miles east in the Cross River Forest.

  “You’re crazy to let that big chicken fly you that far, man,” Sasha said.

  Orlu only rolled his eyes. His general philosophy when it came to Sasha’s smart mouth was, Do not engage. Sunny thought it worked every time.

  Chichi, who sat in the doorway, loudly sucked her teeth and looked away. Sasha glared at her, and Sunny could practically feel the temperature rise a few degrees.

  It was a rare Sunday where they’d all finished their chores, homework, and assignments, and none of them had any relatives or family friends to visit with their parents. It was Chichi’s idea to meet in her hut. Her mother was at Leopard Knocks giving a lecture to some other third-level students. Thus, Chichi sat in the doorway, the cloth curtain piled on her back, a Banga brand herbal cigarette in her left hand. She took a puff and Sunny squeezed her face and looked away. Bangas were healthier than tobacco cigarettes and smelled nicer, but Sunny agreed with Orlu: a cigarette was a cigarette. And cigarettes were filthy.

  “If you’ve got something to say, don’t bother saying it,” Sasha snapped. “Nothing comes from your mouth but lies.”

  “Come on, you guys,” Sunny whined. “Can’t you just…”

  “Just what?!” Sasha screeched. “She’s been cheating on me with your brother! She doesn’t deny it!” He looked at Chichi. “Deny it.”

  Chichi slowly blew out smoke. “How old are we? We’re not attached at the hip.”

  “Why am I even here?!” Sasha shouted. He started to walk away, but Orlu caught his shoulder.

  “Because I asked you to come,” he said. “Please. We’re an Oha coven, remember? We can’t…”

  “Black Hat is dead,” Sasha snapped. “Nigga killed himself. We all saw it. Our coven is dissolved.”

  “It’s not over,” Sunny said. “Ekwensu is here now! We…”

  “If we are a coven, then there should be trust,” Sasha insisted as he looked at Chichi.

  “You think I don’t know about Ronke? Months, you and her,” Chichi spat. Sunny and Orlu looked at Sasha with raised eyebrows. Sasha’s mouth hung open with shock.

  “Trust, sha. It goes both ways,” Chichi quietly said.

  “Who is Ronke?” Sunny asked.

  But Sasha’s and Chichi’s eyes were locked. They stayed like this for several moments. Chichi was the first to look away. She looked at Orlu. “There is a reason I asked you to have us meet here,” she said. She momentarily looked at Sasha. “All of us. I have been thinking about it all. Black Hat, Ekwensu, Sunny, your dreams, that first vision you had in the candle. I’ve been thinking most about your… condition.”

  “You mean being doubled?” Sunny said. “Sheesh, it’s not like Voldemort’s name, you can say it aloud.”

  “Sorry,” Chichi said, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something bad. “It’s just so… ugh.”

  “I know, right?” Sasha said. “I don’t even know how you deal with it. It’s like a guy waking up one day, looking down, and finding his–”

  “Shut up, Sasha,” Orlu groaned. “Chichi, what were you saying?”

  “It’s not your fault, Sunny,” Chichi said. “Plus, I think you will change. Soon.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sunny asked, frowning. She’d told the three of them about being torn from Anyanwu, but not the full extent of it. Her relationship with Anyanwu who came and went as she pleased was as much her own business as the sight of her spirit face. But was there something else she needed to know about all this?

  Sasha stepped closer. “It’s obvious. Chichi has an idea,” he said flatly. “What is it?”

  Again, Chichi and Sasha looked at each other for a long time. Sunny looked from one to the other. She hated when they did this. Even when they were fighting, they shared some weird almost telepathic communication. It had something to do with their natural ability, that lightning-fast photographic thinking they both possessed. Orlu put his hands in his pockets, waiting. He was also used to it.

  “Okay, so, Sunny, you… we have to get to Lagos to find Udide, according to Bola, right?” Chichi said. “You can’t do this alone and it only makes sense for all of us to go.”

  “Well, yeah,” Sunny said, biting her lip. “But how are we supposed to–”

  “Your brother can take us,” Chichi blurted.

  Sasha cursed loudly and walked away.

  “What?” Sunny said. “But Orlu and I are in school. It’s not…”

  Sasha had turned back and was looking at Chichi again, his face still angry. But not as angry. Chichi nodded at him. “This is messed up,” he blurted.

  Chichi shrugged. “But you know it’s a good idea.”

  “Can you two please tell us your plan,” Orlu said, sounding irritated, “since Sunny and I are too slow to follow your mind-reading?”

  “I’ve asked Chukwu already,” Chichi said. “Sunny, he knows he owes you. After making the greatest, most dangerous mistake of his life, he’s back in school and alive because of you. He knows it was you, even if he doesn’t know exactly what you did. He’s got friends in Lagos and he’s got his Jeep. We can go after Christmas, during your break.”

  “A road trip?” Sunny said. “We drive?!”

  “Yes,” Sasha said.

  “But Aba Road is not friendly,” Sunny darkly said. “It’s…”

  “I can’t afford a plane ticket,” Chichi said. “And I will never get on one of those filthy things, anyway. When I reach third level, I’ll teach myself how to glide so I can travel distances in a more sophisticated sanitary way.”

  “Well, maybe my parents could–”

  “Sunny, you know they’d ask too many questions,” Chichi said.

  “How a
bout a funky train, then?” she asked. “There must be some that travel to Lagos.”

  “How will you explain going away for so many days, this time?” Chichi said. “You can convince your parents more easily if you go with Chukwu.”

  “What of Anatov and all our mentors?” Sunny asked. She hadn’t told Sugar Cream about Bola’s words or her doubling, nor Anatov. She wanted to, but she just didn’t know how. Or maybe she wasn’t ready.

  “It’s a road trip,” Sasha said. “They’d all love for us to do that kind of thing.”

  “Well, it’ll take forever, if we live,” Sunny said. “I made that drive once with my father and brothers years ago. It was crazy.”

  “We can work some protection jujus,” Orlu said. “It’s doable.”

  “We’re Leopard People and we’ve faced worse things,” Chichi said.

  Sunny couldn’t argue with that.

  Orlu turned to Sasha. “If we go, will you come?”

  He paused. Then he said, “Yes. For Sunny. If Sunny goes.”

  Orlu smiled and so did Sunny.

  “But my parents will never allow it,” Sunny said. “That’s, like, a ten-hour drive! And it’s dangerous and…”

  “Leave that to your brother,” Chichi said. “He’ll get them to say yes.”

  Chichi was right. Chukwu, God’s Gift to Women, the Apple of Her Father’s Eye, He Who Was Named After the Supreme Deity of Igbo Cosmology, could do no wrong. Ever since they were young children, her father had given Chukwu the freedom to do basically whatever he wanted. When Chukwu insisted on it, there wasn’t a problem.

  “And remember, he has friends in Lagos, too,” Chichi added. “He can say he’s going to see them and we’re just going along for fun.”

  “Chichi,” Sasha said.

  “Fine,” she said, getting up.

  Neither Sunny nor Orlu said a word as Chichi and Sasha walked up the road, several feet between them, backs stiff, talking softly.

  Orlu took Sunny’s hand and Sunny smiled. He squeezed it.

  “Do you really want to do this?”