In the manner of all garbled airport announcements, he heard his flight called and, finishing his Coke, he got up and walked toward the boarding gate. He stood in the line of passengers waiting for his name to be called. He thought about his father and felt guilt wash over him. Nearly every night, in his dreams, he saw Sunday’s ghost wandering aimlessly, searching for his house and Madam Caro’s buka, long gone under the tyrannical wheels of the bulldozers. He mused at how the King, with all his imperfections, had become the icon for freedom and spiritual truth.
“Redemption,” the airline clerk called.
Elvis, still unfamiliar with his new name, did not respond.
“Redemption!” the clerk called louder.
Elvis stepped forward and spoke.
“Yes, this is Redemption.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Percival Everett, who read every draft and without whom this novel would still be a vague idea. Ron Gottesman, Carol Muske-Dukes, T. C. Boyle, Steve Isoardi, Jeanette Lindsey, Viet Nguyen and PB Rippey for reading, feedback, support, friendship and satsang. Sandy Dijkstra for believing and for brokering the best deals, and everyone at The Agency. My family always — Daphne, Mark, Charles, Greg, Stella, Nnenna, Simone, Philomena, Bruno and Delphine. Friends every writer needs — Titi Osu, Helena Igwebuike, Jennifer Dobbs, Wendy Belcher, Elias Wondimu, Amy Schroeder, Ava Chin, Sholeh Wolpe, Kim Burwick, Sylvester Ogbechie, Musa Farhi, Tanya Heflin and Bridget Hoida. Ayesha Pande — my friend and a wonderful editor. Stacey Barney, Cary Goldstein, Jeff Seroy and everyone at Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
R. C. Agoha’s book Medicinal Plants of Nigeria was an invaluable resource, as were:
Beware of Harlots and Many Friends, J. Nnadozie (Onitsha: J.C. Brothers Bookshop, rev. ed., 1965).
Mabel the Sweet Honey That Poured Away, Speedy Eric (Onitsha: A. Onwudiwe & Sons, 1960).
If your name isn’t here, it’s not because I don’t love you or that your kindness has been forgotten.
Thank you all.