Saturday evening, Sunny went to see Sugar Cream in the Obi Library as usual. She was used to crossing the bridge to Leopard Knocks alone. The river beast made her nervous, but each and every time, she stared it down as she crossed. Even this time. It lurked just beneath the surface, a shadow the size of a house with eyes that glowed a dull yellow. Watching. Waiting. For what, Sunny didn’t know. But when she brought forth her spirit face, and Anyanwu filled her up with confidence, poise, and courage, she didn’t care. She dared the river beast to do its worst; then she’d have a reason to kick its backside once and for all.
When she arrived at Sugar Cream’s office at around eight o’clock, her mentor was not there yet. One of the ancestral masks on the wall, the red one with inflated cheeks and wild eyes, opened its mouth and silently laughed at her. Another stuck its tongue out. The masks were so annoying. They were like having a chorus of children behind Sugar Cream’s back who jeered and made fun of her as she was scolded or when she made mistakes.
“Oh, stop it,” she said to the long-faced ebony mask that narrowed its eyes and sucked its teeth at her as she went to Sugar Cream’s desk. There was a note on it. Sit. We will practice gliding today. So clear your head. I will return shortly.
Sunny groaned. “Sit” meant “Sit on the floor in front of her desk.” She sighed, scanning the dark wooden floor. She spotted four of the large red spiders scrambling across the floor. There were always a few. Where they were going, Sunny didn’t know, but they were always going somewhere. They were like scary ugly ants that were spiders.
She slowly sat on the floor. She shut her eyes and took a deep slow breath. She blocked out the spiders and took another deep slow breath. Unfortunately, as her mind cleared, it made room for the very thing she wanted to stop thinking about. Her dream. The smoking city. She frowned, trying harder to clear her mind. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the dream lost its sharp edges and began to grow fuzzy in her mind.
Her body began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed. Well-being. Nothing else. It would last about thirty seconds. So far, this was how long she could hold it. But this half minute was bliss. Ten seconds. A smile spread across her lips. Fifteen seconds. She began to hear that soft, slow hum again. It came from beneath her feet, beneath the floor—deep, deep, deep. It was beautiful. Eighteen seconds, she felt something scratchy.
Her eyes shot open, and she looked at her hand. One of the red spiders was crawling onto her pinky and ring finger.
“Eeeeeeeeee!” she screeched, flinging it off. It landed on the floor and ran towards Sugar Cream’s desk. Sunny was on her feet, still in mid-screech when her eyes fell on the woman sitting behind the desk.
“Good evening,” Sugar Cream said. Today, she wore a creamy yellow dress with a creamy yellow headwrap. The yellow bangles on her wrists clicked as she shifted her position.
“Spider! It was…” Sunny was so disoriented that she was out of breath and babbling. Anything but relaxed.
“You must have been deep in meditation,” she said in Igbo. “I think it was going to check your pulse to make sure you were still alive.” Behind her, the red mask laughed silently. “What would you like to discuss today?” Sugar Cream asked.
Sunny knew that whatever she answered was rarely taken into consideration, but she appreciated the question. She considered telling her about the dream. But it was just a dream, really, she thought. I don’t have any evidence. When it came to the vision of the end of the world she’d seen while gazing into the flame of a candle two years ago, there were other elders who had also seen a similar vision. It wasn’t just her. But then again, maybe others were having the dream, too. Maybe. A dream was a lot flimsier than an actual vision that one had while lucid and awake. She’d seen Black Hat slit his own throat, and then she’d faced Ekwensu very recently. Really, it was normal to have a few nightmares. She decided to go in another direction.
“How about teaching me more about reading Nsibidi,” she said, slowly sitting back down. “I think… I think I’ve had a major breakthrough.” She told Sugar Cream about her Nsibidi reading experience, and Sugar Cream was pleased.
“Finally,” she said, smiling bigger than Sunny had ever seen her smile since starting her mentorship with the Head Librarian. Normally, Sugar Cream was so subdued and stoic. “Reading Nsibidi is not something I can teach you. Good, good, good. We can do more now.”
“But why does it take so much from me?” Sunny asked. “I felt like I would die of hunger. I don’t know how I was able to hide the pain from my mother.”
“Trust me, your mother noticed.” Sugar Cream chuckled. “But she’s learning to accept what you are, even if she doesn’t know exactly what you are, and that’s good and safe for you both.” She arched her back in her plush leather chair and shifted to the side. Sugar Cream’s spine was curved in a dramatic S shape and thus, no chair was really made to suit her type of body. Sunny wondered why she didn’t just have a special chair made for her. “Reading Nsibidi is give and take,” she continued. “It gives you experience and knowledge, and in return the magic drinks your energy. This is fine if you replenish right afterwards. Do what you’ve been doing. Read a tiny bit, then go eat well, sleep, relax. Don’t go arguing with your brothers or watching something annoying on television, because next thing you know, you’ll pass out and make a fool of yourself.”
Sunny laughed.
“And expect a few nightmares now that you have unlocked the key to truly reading Nsibidi.”
“Nightmares?” Sunny asked, her entire body prickling.
“Reading Nsibidi is similar to gliding through the wilderness in many ways,” she said. “It, too, involves leaving your body. This will scare you, even if what you are reading is not scary. Your mind compensates by giving you nightmares.”
“Oh,” Sunny said.
Sugar Cream grew serious and held up a bony index finger, locking Sunny with her eyes. “Reading Nsibidi is risky. You’re a free agent and for you to do this is not so much rare as it is a bad combination. People have died from reading too much, Sunny,” she said. “Beware of books written in excellent Nsibidi; you have to be truly strong to read them. Otherwise, you could get sucked into the story or the lessons or the information. When you return to yourself, it is only to wish this current life goodbye. Your body will have withered to bones; you’ll have nothing left. It’s not a good way to pass to your next life.”
The sheet of Nsibidi her grandmother had left must have been that dangerous type of Nsibidi. She didn’t know what it said, if it was fiction or nonfiction, but she knew how she felt when she tried to “read” it.
Sugar Cream stood up. “Now, then,” she said. “Today, we’re going for a walk.”
“Where?”
“The tainted pepper patch,” she said.
Sunny felt her entire body seize up.
“See the way you just reacted?” Sugar Cream asked. “It’s not good to live a life dictated by fear. That is a lesson you especially must learn right here and now. Otherwise, you’ll be miserable.” She laughed. “Your spirit face is courageous and strong; do you want her to be ashamed of you?”
Sunny followed Sugar Cream out the door. Fine. But I better not see even a small pond, she thought.