Who Fears Death (11 page)

“How have you been?” he asked tentatively.

“How could you do that?” I asked.

“I told you not to go.”

“Just because you tell me to do something doesn’t mean I’ll listen!”

“I should have made it so that you couldn’t pass his cactuses,” he mumbled.

“I’d have found a way through,” I said. “It was my choice and you should have respected it. Instead you stood there telling Aro how it wasn’t your fault that I’d come, trying to cover your own backside. I could have killed you.”

“Precisely why he won’t teach you! You act like a woman. You run on emotions. You’re dangerous.”

I had to work not to further prove Mwita’s point. “You believe that?” I asked.

He looked away.

I wiped a tear from my eye, “Then we can’t be . . .”

“No, I don’t believe that,” Mwita said. “You’re irrational at times, more irrational than any woman or man. But it’s not because of what’s between your legs.” He smiled and sarcastically said, “Besides, haven’t you gone through your Eleventh Rite? Even the Nuru know that going through it will align a woman’s intelligence with her emotions.”

“I’m not joking,” I said.

“You’re different. Your passion is more than most,” he said after a brief pause.

“Then why . . .”

“Aro
needed
to know that you came on your own volition. People who are driven by others . . . trust me, he’ll never accept them. Come, we need to talk.”

Once at my house, we sat on the back steps in front of my mother’s garden.

“Does my papa know who Aro really is?”

“To an extent,” he said. “Enough people know of him, those who want to know.”

“Just not most.”

“Right.”

“Mostly men, I assume,” I said.

“And some older boys.”

“He teaches others, doesn’t he?” I said, annoyed. “Other than you.”

“He tries. There’s a test you have to pass to learn the Mystic Points. You can only take it once. Failure is awful. The closer you get to passing, the more painful it is. The boys you overheard, they’d been tried. They all return home bruised and beaten. Their fathers think they’ve passed initiation as Aro’s apprentice. In reality, they’ve failed. Aro teaches the boys some small things so the boys have skill at something.”

“What are the Mystic Points anyway?”

He moved closer to me, close enough that I could hear his soft whisper. “I don’t know.” He smiled. “I know that one must be destined to learn them. Someone must ask for it to be so, for you to BE so.”

“Mwita, I
have
to learn them,” I said. “It’s my father! I don’t know how I . . .”

And that was when he leaned forward and kissed me. I forgot about my biological father. I forgot about the desert. I forgot about all my questions. It wasn’t an innocent kiss. It was deep and wet. I was almost fourteen, he was maybe seventeen. We’d both lost our innocence years ago. I didn’t think of my mother and the man who raped her as I always thought I would if I were ever intimate with a boy.

There was no hesitation in his hands working their way inside my shirt. I didn’t stop him kneading my breasts. He didn’t stop me from kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. I ached between my legs, a sharp desperate ache. So sharp that my body jumped. Mwita pulled away. He quickly stood up. “I’ll go,” he said.

“No!” I said getting up. The pain was spreading all over my body now and I couldn’t quite straighten myself.

“If I don’t leave . . .” He reached forward and touched my belly chain that had come out as he’d fumbled with my top. Aro’s words flew through my head. “That is for your husband to see,” he’d said. I shivered. Mwita reached into his mouth and handed me my diamond. I smiled weakly as I took it and put it back under my tongue.

“I’ve unknowingly betrothed myself to you,” I said.

“Who believes that myth?” he asked. “Too easy. I’ll come see you in two days.”

“Mwita,” I breathed.

“It’s best that you remain untouched . . . for now.”

I sighed.

“Your parents will be home soon,” he said. He lifted my shirt up and tenderly kissed my nipple. I shivered, the pain between my legs flaring. I squeezed them together. He looked at me, sadly, his hand still cupping my breast.

“It hurts,” he said apologetically.

I nodded, my lips pressed together. It hurt so badly that areas of my vision were going dark. Tears ran down my face.

“You’ll recover in a few minutes. I wish I had known you before you had it done,” he said. “The scalpel that they use is treated by Aro. There’s juju on it that makes it so that a woman feels pain whenever she is too aroused . . . until she’s married.”

AFTER HE LEFT, I went to my room and wept. It was all I could do to curb my fury. Now I understood why a scalpel was used instead of a laserknife. A scalpel, simpler in design, was much easier to bewitch. Aro. It was always Aro. For most of the night, I considered the many ways I could hurt that man.

I considered ripping the gold chain from my waist and spitting the stone in the garbage, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Somewhere along the way, these two items had become part of my identity. I’d have felt so ashamed without them. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was too angry at Aro and too afraid of another visit from my biological father in my sleep.

The next night, I slept only out of pure exhaustion. Thankfully, there was no red eye. By the time I met up with Binta and Diti after school the next day, I felt a little better.

“You know that photographer? I heard all his nails had fallen off,” Diti said, playfully rolling her diamond in her mouth as she spoke.

“So?” I said, leaning against the school wall.

“So that’s disgusting!” Binta snapped. “What kind of man is that?”

“Where’s Luyu?” I asked, changing the subject.

Diti giggled. “She’s probably with Kasie. Or Gwan.”

“I swear, Luyu will fetch the highest bride price,” Binta said.

Had any of these boys tried to touch Luyu? “What of Calculus?” I asked.

Calculus was Luyu’s favorite. He was also the boy who scored highest in math class. All three of my friends had several suitors, Luyu having the most, then Diti. Binta refused to talk to any of hers. We were still chatting when Luyu came around the corner. There were dark circles under her eyes and she walked bent forward.

“Luyu!” Diti screamed. “What happened?!”

Binta started crying, grabbing Luyu’s hand.

“Sit her down!” I shouted. Luyu’s hands shook as they made and unmade fists. Then her face squeezed and she shrieked in pain.

“I’ll go get someone,” Binta said jumping up.

“No!” Luyu managed to say. “Don’t!”

“What happened?” I said.

The three of us crouched around her. Luyu stared at me with wide hollow eyes. “You . . . you might know,” she said to me. “Something’s wrong with me. I think I’m cursed.”

“What do you . . . ?”

“I was with Calculus.” She paused. “ . . . at the tree with the bushes around it.”

We all nodded. It was where students went for privacy.

Luyu smiled despite herself. “I’m not like you three. Well, maybe Diti will understand.” Binta reached into her satchel and handed Luyu a bottle of water. Luyu took a sip. Then she spoke with a rage I didn’t know she was capable of. “I tried, but I enjoy it,” she said. “I’ve always enjoyed it! Why shouldn’t I?”

“Luyu what . . .” Diti began to say.

“Kissing, touching, intercourse,” Luyu said, looking at Diti. “You know it. It’s good. We learned that early.” She looked at Binta. “It’s good when it’s
right.
I know that no man is to touch us now, and I
tried!
” I took her hand. She snatched it away.

“I’ve tried for three years. Then Gwan came one day and I let him kiss me. It was good but then it was bad. It . . . made me hurt! Who did this to me? No one can just . . .” she was breathing too heavily. “Soon we’ll be eighteen, fully fledged adults! Why wait until marriage to enjoy what Ani gave me! Whatever the curse, I wanted to break it. I’ve been trying . . . Today it felt like I was going to die. Calculus refused to continue . . .” She looked beyond me, and screamed, “Look at him!”

We all turned to see Calculus standing behind the schoolyard fence. He quickly started walking away. “I’m not going to be the one who kills you!” he shouted.

“Ani will make your penis curl!” Luyu shouted.

“Luyu!” Diti screeched.

“I don’t care,” Luyu said, looking away.

“It’ll pass,” I said. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.” It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her like this.
That day she walked right past me looking sick,
I thought.

“I’ll never feel better,” she said.

“Is it a curse?” Binta asked me.

“I don’t think so,” I said, annoyed that they thought I knew all about curses.

“It is,” Diti said. “Two years ago, I let Fanasi . . . touch me. We were kissing and . . . I hurt so badly that I started crying. He took offense and
still
won’t speak to me.”

“It’s not a curse,” Binta suddenly said. “It’s Ani protecting us.”

“From what?” Luyu snapped. “From enjoying boys? I don’t want that kind of protection!”

“I
do!
” Binta retorted. “You don’t know what’s good for you. You’re lucky that you aren’t pregnant! Ani protected you. She protects me. My father . . .” She slapped her hand over her mouth.

“You father what?” Luyu asked, frowning.

I growled low in my throat. “Binta, speak,” I said. “Ah, ah, Binta, what is this?”

“Did he try again?” Diti asked when Binta refused to speak. “He did, didn’t he?”

“He couldn’t do it because you were writhing in pain?” I asked.

“Ani protects me,” Binta insisted, tears falling down her cheeks.

We were all silent.

“He-he understands now,” Binta said. “He won’t touch me anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Luyu said. “He should be castrated like the other rapists.”

“Shhh, don’t say that,” Binta whispered.

“I will say and do what I want!” Luyu shouted.

“No, you won’t,” I said, putting my arm around Binta. I chose my words carefully. “I think juju was worked on us at our Eleventh Rite. It’s . . . probably broken with marriage.” I looked hard at Luyu. “I think if you force intercourse, you’ll die.”

“It is broken with marriage,” Diti said nodding. “My cousin always talks about how only a pure woman attracts a man pure enough to bring pleasure to the marriage bed. She says her husband is the purest man around . . . probably because he was the first who didn’t bring her pain.”

“Ugh,” Luyu said, angrily. “We’re tricked into thinking our husbands are gods.”

 

On my way home, I ran into Mwita. He was reading at the iroko tree. I sat beside him and sighed loudly. He shut his book.

“Did you know that the Ada and Aro once loved each other?” he asked.

I raised my eyebrows. “What happened?”

Mwita leaned back. “When he first came here years ago, the Osugbo Society immediately called him to a meeting. The Seer must have seen that Aro was a sorcerer. Not long after, he was invited to work with Osugbo Elders. After he peacefully dealt with a disagreement between two of Jwahir’s biggest traders, they asked him to become a full member. He’s Jwahir’s first not so elderly elder. Aro didn’t look a day over forty. No one minded because Jwahir benefited from him. Do you know the House of Osugbo?”

I nodded.

“It was built with juju,” Mwita said. “It was here before Jwahir was. Anyway, it has a way of making things . . . happen. One day, Nana the Wise asked Yere—that was the Ada’s name when she was a young woman—to meet her there. Aro also happened to be there that day. They both took a wrong turn and came face-to-face. From the moment they met, they didn’t like each other.

“Love is often mistaken for hate. But sometimes, people learn their mistake, as these two quickly did. Nana the Wise had set her eye on Yere as the next Ada. So Yere was asked often to come to the house for one reason or another. Aro spent almost all his time there. The House of Osugbo kept bringing them together, you see.

“Aro would ask, and then Yere would accept. He would speak, she would listen. She would wait and then he would come to her. They felt that they understood how things should always be. Yere was eventually appointed the Ada when the previous Ada passed away. Aro had established himself as the Worker. They complemented each other perfectly.”

Mwita paused. “It was Aro who came up with the idea to put juju on the scalpel but it was the Ada who accepted. They felt they were doing something good for the girls.”

I laughed bitterly and shook my head. “Does Nana the Wise know?”

“She knows. To her, it makes sense, too. She’s old.”

“Why didn’t Aro and the Ada marry?”

Mwita smiled. “Did I say that they didn’t?”

THE SUN HAD JUST RISEN. I was perched in the tree, hunched forward.

I’d woken up fifteen minutes ago to see it before my bed. Staring at me. An insubstantial red sheet with an oval of white steam in the center. The eye hissed with anger and disappeared.

And that was when I spotted the shiny brown and black scorpion crawling up my bedclothes. The kind whose sting could kill. It would have reached my face in a matter of seconds had I not woken. I whipped up my covers, sending it flying. It landed with an almost metallic
plick!
I grabbed the nearest book and crushed the thing with it. I stamped on the book, over and over, until I stopped shaking. I was fuming as I threw off my clothes and flew out the window.

The vulture’s natural angry look matched how I felt. From the tree, I watched the two boys walk through the cactus gate. I flew back to my bedroom and shifted back to myself. To remain a vulture for too long always left me feeling detached from what I could only define as being a human. As a vulture, I felt condescending when I looked at Jwahir, as if I knew greater places. All I wanted to do was ride the wind, search out carrion, and not return home. There is always a price for changing.