He didn’t wait for an answer. “Orlu’s mother and I agreed that you’d survived an episode of stupidity and probably wouldn’t make the mistake again. You proved us both wrong tonight, Sasha.” Anatov leaned toward Sasha. “I will have you caned by the strongest man in Nigeria if you pull something like this again. Understood?”
Sasha nodded.
“I will let you keep that book, but I expect you to act like you have some brains.” He turned to Chichi. “And you are to report to the council with me first thing when we get home.”
The trip home was nothing like the trip there. Chichi barely spoke a word, nor did Orlu. Sasha and Sunny chatted briefly with Godwin before he took his seat. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” Godwin said.
“Me neither,” Sunny said.
“I slept well,” Sasha said, smiling brightly. Sunny could tell he was lying. There were bags under Sasha’s eyes.
“You four-everyone’s talking about you,” Godwin said. “No one’s seen juju like that performed and then stopped by students so young. And of course people are still talking about your fast feet, Sunny, and your fast mouth, Sasha.”
“Do people hate us?” she asked.
Godwin laughed and shook his head. “This festival will be talked about for years, man.”
16
The funky train stopped right in front of Orlu’s house. Chichi had only looked away when Sunny, Orlu, and Sasha tried to say good-bye. She was going straight to Leopard Knocks with Anatov.
“I’ll see you all in two weeks,” Anatov said. “That Thursday in the P.M.” He too had been quiet through the trip. “Sunny,” he said, taking her hand before she got off, “did you have a good time?”
“Best time of my life!” she surprised herself by saying.
“Good,” he said.
“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off in front of your house?” Jesus’s General asked. “It’s no problem.”
“Oh, here is fine,” she said, quickly hopping off.
They watched the funky train drive away. “What’ll they do to her?” she asked.
“I think she’s going to get caned,” Orlu said. “That masquerade was bad, but the fact that she called it in a public place like that…” He shook his head.
“This is what I hated back in America,” Sasha said.
“What? That people get punished when they deserve to be?” Orlu said. “You should be going with her.”
“I should,” he said, looking at his feet. Then he sucked his teeth loudly and kicked some dirt. “No one is willing to push the envelope. So what if she called up a damn Mmuo Aku and it went wild! She still did it! She still performed the most sophisticated juju any of them had ever seen.”
“True, but you’re wrong,” Orlu said. “We can’t live in chaos. The ages are set for each level for a reason. You can be able to do something and not be mature enough to deal with the consequences. Just like-like a girl who develops breasts too fast. It doesn’t mean she’s mature or anything.”
“Ugh!” Sunny suddenly said. “I’m going home. I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Peace,” Sasha said, hugging her.
“See you in class,” Orlu said, also giving her a hug. After a moment’s hesitation, he kissed her on the cheek. She touched her cheek and looked at Orlu with wide eyes. Sasha chuckled. She didn’t dare look his way. As she walked slowly down the street, she heard them start arguing again.
Sunny returned home to music playing and her father’s laughter. His friend Ola was visiting and they were mildly drunk on palm wine as usual. “Good afternoon,” Ola said when he saw her trying to slip unnoticed to her room.
“Good afternoon,” she said, trying to shake the dislocated feeling she was experiencing. It was like two realities fighting for dominance. “Hi, Dad.” She froze. The ghost hopper was sitting on his head.
“How was your weekend?” he asked with a lopsided smile.
“Um, it was good,” she said, working hard not to look at the ghost hopper. “Dad, there’s a-a leaf on your head.”
When he brushed his head, the ghost hopper leaped onto the arm of the couch. She slipped away before he could say any more. She heard her mother laughing in the kitchen and speaking in rapid English. She had to be talking to her sister Chinwe, who lived with her African American husband in Atlanta.
“Ah, you know you miss it,” her mother was saying. “You can’t even find half the ingredients there for a decent egusi soup.” Pause. “I know. Mhm. I plan to, but only when she’s”-she noticed Sunny come in and smiled-“ready. You want to talk to her? She just walked in. Hang on. Sunny, come and talk to your auntie.”
Auntie Chinwe was one of Sunny’s favorites. Her mother said that she was the free spirit of the family, and that Sunny’s grandfather considered her a disappointment. In addition to marrying an “akata,” as her grandfather called her African American husband, Auntie had also decided not to become a doctor. Instead, she’d studied dance.
Now she was a degreed professional dancer with a group called the Women of the Bush. She taught dance at Columbia University. The DVD of her shows was one of Sunny’s most prized possessions.
“You must have had fun,” her mother said, kissing her cheek and giving her the phone.
“It was great, Mama,” she said. “Thanks for letting me go.”
She patted Sunny on the head.
“Hello?” Sunny said, holding the phone to her ear. Her mother left the room to give them a little privacy.
“Sunny,” Auntie said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“I hear you were out with your friends yesterday.”
“Yeah. It was great. It was nice to be out of the house and all.”
With her peripheral vision, she could see two ghost hoppers sitting on a bunch of plantains on the floor. One of them was munching on the stem. So there was more than one.
“Well, I’m glad that you’ve made some good friends, and that my sister has finally loosened the leash. You’re a responsible girl and you should be treated that way.”
Sunny felt a little guilty.
“Auntie?” She stepped over to look into the hall to make sure her mother wasn’t hiding behind the door, as she often did.
“Mhm?”
She lowered her voice. “Tell me about Grandma-just a little bit. Something. Every time I ask Mama, she refuses to tell me.” There was a pause, a long pause. “Auntie? Are you there? Hello?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Auntie said. “Where’s your mother?”
“She’ll be back in a minute.”
“Why do you want to know? Was someone teasing you?”
“No,” she said. “No-nothing like that.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she said. She heard footsteps. “Mama’s coming! Can you tell me-”
“No,” Auntie Chinwe said. “I can’t tell you much of anything. Our mother-your grandmother-wasn’t crazy, but she was full of secrets that she took to her grave. She never let any of us really know her.”
“But how do you know there were secrets?”
Her mother walked in.
“Because I have eyes and I have ears,” Auntie said.
“Okay, Sunny,” her mother said. “Let me finish talking to my sister before her phone card runs out.”
“Look in your mother’s side of their bedroom,” Auntie said quickly. “She keeps some things in a box, I think.”
“Okay,” she quickly said. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetie,” Auntie said as her mother took the phone.
“Sister? So how are little James and Gozie?”
Sunny took a small package of biscuits and went to her room. She closed and locked the door and sunk to the floor. Never in her life had she had so much swimming in her head. Never, ever, ever. She would have curled up and gone to sleep right there if she hadn’t seen a ghost hopper sitting on her bed.