“It’s too late!” Sunny shouted over the deep beat. It came from within everything around them. She grabbed under Sasha’s armpits. Chichi took his legs. They hauled him in. Then Chichi knelt beside him and checked his pulse. “He’s alive,” she said, her eyes wide and twitching.
Outside, with each beat, the mud rose into a higher and higher mound.
“Oh God, she’s coming,” Sunny moaned.
“Buck up,” Chichi said, looking angry. “Where’s Orlu?”
“Out there,” she said. “With the children. On the other side, near the bushes.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes from what was happening. The heavy downpour was causing the ground to flood. The thunder and the lightning had become one. But nothing drowned out the steady drumbeat of the masquerade. The mound was now three feet high, pushing aside Black Hat’s body as it rose.
Chichi cursed, patting Sasha’s wet cheek. “Sasha, wake up!” She pushed his eyes open. Only the whites showed.
The termite mound was six feet high now. Termites buzzed from it, but the rain beat them into the mud. Something enormous was coming through. It looked like the leaves of a dead, dry crackling palm tree tightly packed together. They crackled more when the rain hit them. Chichi held Sasha’s hand and then took Sunny. “He’s done it,” she said. “We’ve failed.”
Sunny was speechless, frozen with terror. A monstrosity was growing before her eyes. The Aku masquerade was nothing compared to Ekwensu. She was of such deep evil that her name was rarely spoken, even in the Lamb world. As her monstrous form grew, she gave off a smell-an oily, greasy smell, like car exhaust.
Ekwensu was over one hundred feet high and fifty feet wide. She was all tightly packed dried palm fronds.
“Pull him back,” Chichi suddenly said. “Get back.”
“What are we gonna do?” Sunny asked as they dragged Sasha to the middle of the obi.
“Pray,” Chichi said. “No use running.”
For over a minute, the horrifying thing that was Ekwensu just stood there. Then there was a heavy gust of wind and Ekwensu slowly began to fall. When she hit the ground, water and mud spurted in all directions.
The two girls huddled over Sasha. Chichi wiped the mud from his face so that he wouldn’t suffocate.
The drumbeats stopped. So did the thunder. Sunny wiped mud from her arms, legs, and face and slowly stood up. “Is it dead?” she whispered. She hoped. Maybe Black Hat hadn’t performed the juju properly or maybe he’d done things prematurely.
But then the flute began to play.
It was a haunting tune that made her want to tear off in the other direction screaming. It was the tune of nightmares. It was fast and melodious and full of warning, like the song of a sweet-throated bird happily leading the devil into the room.
Slowly at first, Ekwensu started rotating. Pulling up mud and soggy plants, Ekwensu groaned, a deep thick sound that seemed to come from another place. She rotated faster. And faster, and faster.
Soon the air was red with flying mud. Ekwensu’s wind rushed through the obi. She was spinning so fast that she was lifting back up. There she stood, whirling like a giant carwash brush. The flute music urged her into dance and the drumbeats started up again. Around the open area in front of the obi, yards from the gas station, she danced, spraying mud and water and uprooted plants and hunks of grass.
Ekwensu let out a high-pitched scream, as if to tell the Earth she was back. And then everything shook so heavily with the deepness of the drumbeats that the obi, even with its steel foundation, began to crumble. Sunny felt it deep inside her, just below her heart-a vibration, then a tug. She clutched her chest.
She stood up.
Her body felt light. She felt strong. She realized that, above all things, she didn’t want to die huddling away, afraid, helpless. She was going to go out there and face Ekwensu, damn the consequences.
She’d often wondered how she’d react if she were in mortal danger. If held at gunpoint on the dark road during a carjacking, would she be able to look the thief in the eye and negotiate for her life? Or if she saw a child drowning in a raging river, would she jump in to save it? Now she had her answer. She gathered together everything she had learned over the past few months and walked out of the obi.
One step at a time, she approached Ekwensu, who was so happy to be back in the physical world that she didn’t notice Sunny until she was standing before her.
On instinct, Sunny let her spirit face move forward. In that moment, her fear of everything left her-her fear of Ekwensu’s evil, of being flayed alive by the monster’s fronds, of her family learning of her death, of the world’s end. It all evaporated. Sunny smiled. She knew how the world would end. She knew that someday she would die. She knew her family would live on if she died right now. And she realized that she knew Ekwensu.
And Sunny hated her.
Ekwensu stopped dancing. She had no visible eyes, but she was looking down at Sunny. Relaxing her shoulders and mind, Sunny let Anyanwu, her spirit, her chi, the name of her other self, guide her.
She grasped her juju knife. Her motions were smooth. The world shifted. Suddenly, all things were-more. They were in the tall grass in the rain, but they were in another place, too, where colors zoomed about, where there was green, so much green.
Ekwensu howled and began to spin again, faster than before. Sunny knew she had only one word to speak. She spoke it in a language she didn’t even know existed.
“Return,” she said.
Ekwensu shrieked and lashed out several fronds and smacked her to the side. She flew back, hitting a tree. Ekwensu whirled faster. But no matter how fast Ekwensu spun, she was sinking. Sunny struggled to her feet. As she watched Ekwensu sink, she was reminded of the Wicked Witch of the West’s death in The Wizard of Oz. Ekwensu wasn’t melting, but she looked like she was, as she sank into the wet, red mud.
Gone.
“Good,” Sunny whispered.
20
Everything settled. Mud and plants and small trees dropped from the sky. The noise stopped-except for the chittim falling at her feet. The heavy pressure of fear lifted. In its place came a pain in her lower back and a general ache all over her body.
“Chichi!”
“In here,” Chichi called.
Sunny slipped and fell in the mud twice before she got to the obi.
“I think he’s waking up,” Chichi said. “Go find Orlu!”
Sunny stumbled out the back of the obi. Orlu was still there with the two children, but everything had changed.
They were alive.
They looked at her with terrified suspicion as they clutched Orlu’s chest and leg.
“Orlu!” His dark brown skin was covered with mud, his body was so still.
“Don’t hurt him!” one of the toddlers screeched, clinging more tightly to Orlu as Sunny approached. The child kissed him on the cheek, muddying her lips, and looked fearfully at Sunny. “Don’t hurt our angel. Please!”
“I won’t,” she softly said. “He’s my friend. His name is Orlu.”
“Oh-loo,” the other child said, also kissing Orlu. He spit the mud from his lips, wiped Orlu’s face, and kissed him again.
Slowly, Sunny knelt beside the children and felt Orlu’s face. It was still warm. She touched his chest and felt a strong heartbeat. “Thank God, thank God,” she sobbed. She whispered his name into his ear and softly shook him. When nothing happened, she kissed his ear and whispered his name again and again. When he still didn’t respond, she shook him hard, starting to panic.