“Are you all right?” Kema asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“Fine,” Sunny mumbled.

“Sunny,” Orlu said, running up. “I’m sorry about that. Don’t feel badly. Auntie Uju is not right in the head. She suffers a sort of dementia.”

Sunny couldn’t help the tears now. Nor could she help the sneezing. She looked at Orlu, wanting to ask the question that was on her mind. But Kema was there. Kema ran into the bathroom and brought Sunny a bunch of toilet paper.

“Thanks,” Sunny said, blowing her nose. She sneezed again. “I think I should leave.”

Orlu followed her out, and they stood at the front door as Sunny blew her nose again. Orlu handed her more of the toilet paper Kema had given him. “Sorry,” he said.

Sunny only shook her head. “It’s not the first time,” she said. “People go crazy on albino people more often than you want to imagine.”

“My auntie is involved in Mountain of Fire,” Orlu said.

“So I noticed.”

“I should have known this would happen, I guess. I’m just so used to you that I . . . I don’t see your albinism as more than just part of what you are. I forget that other people . . . have issues.”

“Like your auntie.”

“Yeah,” he said, sticking a foot in the rain.

“Orlu, you said she wasn’t Leopard.”

“She’s not.”

“Is Kema?”

“No. It’s my uncle.”

“Why does that room reek of juju powder?”

“That’s why you’re sneezing?” he asked.

“Yeah. Duh.”

“My uncle thinks her dementia is . . . not natural. So he puts all these protective spells in the house. But as you can see, they don’t work.”

“Because maybe it is natural.”

“Yes. It runs in her side of the family.”

They were silent for a while. Orlu took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

Sunny shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“Do you want me to ride back with you?”

“No, visit with your auntie. She needs you.”

Kema came up the hall with an umbrella. “Here. Take,” Kema said, handing it to Sunny. “Give it back to Orlu later.” This was the second time someone had handed her a black umbrella in less than a week.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it. She held it over her head and walked into the heavy rain. She stood waiting for a danfo for a half hour. The black umbrella was a godsend.

6

IDIOK’S DELIGHT

You are walking in virgin jungle. It has never been touched by shovel, brick, mortar, or tire. This place is full. Years back it was assumed to be an Evil Forest. Too evil a place for people to even dump the dead bodies of suicide victims, unwanted twins, murderers, and other people who were considered by Igbo and Ibibio traditional societies to be abominations. The Idiok baboons told me all of this when I was too young to really understand. But they have a way of teaching where the knowledge that is planted within you blossoms when you are ready to understand it. This is their own special way of teaching that human beings are still not able to master. I was taught in this way. Parts of this book are based on information they told me and experiences I had when I was under the age of three. It is clear to me as day.