“With the lightning and thunder?”

“You could say that.”

“You’ve been avoiding us all weekend.”

Sunny shrugged. They began to walk.

“How come Orlu didn’t come?”

Sasha shrugged again. “Said you probably needed some time to yourself. Me, I don’t mess around. I came to see what’s up. So, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.

“Even after . . . after what happened with . . .”

“Yeah. We can go to Leopard Knocks today, if you all want.” She hesitated and then said, “The river beast won’t stop me.” She could feel Anyanwu within her as she said it. And she could feel that her presence was different. Not so locked. And this was verified when she realized she suddenly didn’t feel Anyanwu within her. Anyanwu had gone off again, to wherever she went off to.

Sasha looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “You’re different somehow.”

“Yeah,” she said. Then she laughed, tossing her soccer ball in the air and catching it with her feet. She passed it to Sasha, who caught it and then tapped it back to Sunny. She caught it, brought out her juju knife, and worked a quick juju that rubbed off the mud. It hadn’t been difficult, but she noticed that she did have to concentrate a little harder on mentally aligning her words with her juju knife flourish.

“Jollof rice and goat meat at Mama Put’s Putting Place?” Sasha asked.

Sunny smiled. “Definitely. My treat.”

19

TRUST, SHA

“My clothes were ruined, but I knew that would happen,” Orlu said, grinning wider than Sunny had ever seen him grin. “Nancy took me over the ocean!” His jeans were filthy with bright red palm oil and splashes of mud, as were his T-shirt and red Chuck Taylor gym shoes.

He’d been working closely with his mentor Taiwo’s Miri Bird for the past two weeks, and he’d had a particularly interesting weekend. The bird, whose name was Nancy, regularly flew him up to Taiwo’s palm tree hut, and the two had cultivated a friendship. Orlu had since taken it upon himself to study Nancy’s species and ancestral bloodline. Flattered by his interest, the bird had agreed to take him for an extended ride to visit its mother forty miles east in the Cross River Forest.

“You’re crazy to let that big chicken fly you that far, man,” Sasha said.

Orlu only rolled his eyes. His general philosophy when it came to Sasha’s smart mouth was, Do not engage. Sunny thought it worked every time.

Chichi, who sat in the doorway, loudly sucked her teeth and looked away. Sasha glared at her, and Sunny could practically feel the temperature rise a few degrees.

It was a rare Sunday where they’d all finished their chores, homework, and assignments, and none of them had any relatives or family friends to visit with their parents. It was Chichi’s idea to meet in her hut. Her mother was at Leopard Knocks giving a lecture to some other third-level students. Thus, Chichi sat in the doorway, the cloth curtain piled on her back, a Banga brand herbal cigarette in her left hand. She took a puff and Sunny squeezed her face and looked away. Bangas were healthier than tobacco cigarettes and smelled nicer, but Sunny agreed with Orlu: a cigarette was a cigarette. And cigarettes were filthy.