“I did,” she said, laughing. “What better way to make her get initiated?”
“But…” Orlu tapered off, looking very angry.
Sunny had had enough. “All right, you guys, start explaining. Leopard Knocks? Initiation? What’s going on?”
Orlu only shook his head. Chichi took Sunny’s arm again. “Just come and see for yourself.”
“As if she has a choice now,” Orlu snapped. “As if any of us does now.”
“Orlu, I believe she’s one of us,” Chichi said. “My mom does, too.”
“Would you want to go through something like this without knowing anything?” he asked Chichi.
Chichi only shrugged. “It’s the only way.”
Sunny groaned. “Please, quit talking like I’m not right here.”
Chichi lowered her voice. “The worst that can happen is-”
“Is what?” Sunny shouted.
“We can never talk to you again and you can never speak of any of this.”
They started walking away without her. For a moment, Sunny just stood there, watching them go. Then she collected herself and followed.
“Where’re we going?” she asked after several minutes. “Just tell me that, if nothing else.”
“To the hut of Anatov, Defender of Frogs and All Things Natural,” Chichi said.
They caught a cab on the main street.
“Take us to Ariaria Market,” Orlu said, handing the man some naira. Orlu waved Sunny off when she tried to offer some money. “No, this is on me.”
It was a typical Nigerian cab-the car reeked of dried fish, egusi seeds, and exhaust. There were big holes in the floor. The three of them got out at the market, but didn’t go in. Instead, they crossed the busy street and went in the opposite direction. They walked for a while, passing buildings and avoiding hawkers selling cashew fruits, suya, phone cards, cell phone accessories, and plantain chips.
They turned a corner and walked, turned another corner and walked. Sunny knew the area, but now she felt lost. They stopped at a small path that led into a patch of lush bush. A group of older men were just emerging. Some of them wore old jeans and shirts, others wore colorful rapas and T-shirts.
“Good morning,” Orlu, Chichi, and Sunny said together.
The men looked each of them in the eye and nodded. “Good morning, children.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” one of them asked.
“Yes, sir,” Orlu said.
“No, I mean her,” the man said, pointing at Sunny. She felt her face grow warm.
“She’s with us,” Chichi said.
This seemed to satisfy him, and he moved on with the others.
“Where are we going?” Sunny asked as they walked down the shaded path. The bush seemed to close in around them. Where it had been hot, it was now sweltering.
“I told you,” Chichi said. “To see Anatov.”
“Yeah, but who is he?” She stopped walking. “Chichi, Orlu, stop.” She hoisted up her purse, her closed umbrella under her arm. “What’s going on? Where are we going? What’s happening?”
They both looked uncomfortable.
“Anatov will explain, Sunny,” Orlu finally said.
“It’s easier that way,” Chichi said. “Just trust us.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re your friends,” Orlu said.
“And we’ve changed your life… maybe,” Chichi said. Then she looked away. “Just let Anatov explain.”
They started walking again.
“Is he mean?” Sunny asked. The path had narrowed and they were walking single file, Sunny last. She heard Orlu laugh to himself.
“Anatov is Anatov,” Chichi said, turning around and grinning.
Great, Sunny thought. Some friends. Not telling me a thing. For all she knew, they could have been accomplices working with Black Hat Otokoto. Anything is possible. Even the worst is possible. The candle showed me so. The worst was more than possible. The worst was inevitable. But she was in too deep now. Her parents didn’t know where she was-she didn’t even know where she was! She slapped at a mosquito on her arm.
Sunny heard it before she saw it. At first, it sounded like a bunch of people softly whispering, yet she saw nothing but forest. Minutes later, the noise grew to the sound of crashing water. It was a river so angry that its churning waters threw up a white mist. Never heard of this river, she thought. Stretching across it was a thin, slippery-looking wooden bridge. There were no handrails.
“How is anyone supposed to cross that?” she asked, horrified.
“You just do it,” Orlu said, stepping up to a large rock that sat in front of the bridge. He rubbed its smooth black surface with the palm of his hand. “Beyond the mist is the entrance to Leopard Knocks.”
She waited for him to go on.
“The full name is Ngbe Abum Obbaw, that’s Efik for ‘Leopard Knocks His Foot,’” Chichi explained. “Long ago, some Efik woman created a juju that stopped a leopard from attacking her. It made the leopard stub its foot on something hard, and the pain scared it away. The builders named Leopard Knocks His Foot after her strong juju. The Efik people have the strongest juju in the world.”
“In whose opinion? Not the Igbos’,” Orlu said irritably. “Sunny, there are Leopard People all over the world from every tribe, race, whatever. None is better than the other.”
“Oh, be realistic,” Chichi said, rolling her eyes.
But Sunny wasn’t really listening. She couldn’t take her eyes off of that narrow bridge. The wild waters beneath it boiled and churned.
“Only truth will allow you across,” Orlu said.
“Every time,” Chichi added.
“So you’ve crossed that?” Sunny cried. “It’s so flimsy! The thing doesn’t even look like it’s-” She stopped talking and just stared at it.
“Relax,” Chichi said, putting her arm around Sunny. “We’re not going over the bridge right now. We’re going that way.” She pointed to a small path that ran to the right, beside the river. She pulled Sunny along.
“I don’t like this,” Sunny said.
“You’re just not used to it,” Orlu said.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t like this. You’re both crazy.”
Chichi giggled.
Anatov’s hut was much bigger than Chichi’s. It was long with a thatch roof. The red walls were decorated with white symbols and caricatures of people. The wooden front doors were waist-high, and looked as if they swung in and out like the doors of a saloon in an American western. They were painted with black and white squares. In swooping white letters, one door was labeled IN, the other OUT. She noticed that they entered through the OUT door.
Inside, the air was heavy with incense so strong that it made her slightly ill. She waved her hand in front of her face. Through her watery eyes she saw that the hut’s inner walls were also decorated with white chalk artwork.
A man sat in a throne-like chair on the far side of the room. When he stood up, she gasped. He was the tallest man she had ever seen-taller than any Maasai or American basketball player. He was light-skinned with short brown bushy dreadlocks and a small gold ring in his left nostril.
Sunny was trying to be polite when she stifled her sneeze, but the sneeze was so hard that she blew snot into her hands instead. Great first impression, she thought. Her face and hands were a mess.
“This girl isn’t proper,” Anatov told Chichi. He spoke in English and had an American accent. He turned to Orlu and looked down his nose at him. “Explain. I can barely stand to have so many Ekpiri in here. Clutters up the vibe, know what I’m sayin’? But you bring an improper, at that? Y’all don’t think.”