Hair today….gone tomorrow Part 8

Filming was going well. All the actors had shown up on time, and everyone was in high spirits as take after take went on without a hitch. Deidre went over her script again even though she knew every word by heart and she was more than ready when she heard her name being called by the director. She pulled her compact out to check that her make-up was in place and then gave a little scream as she snapped it shut and leapt to her feet. She glanced behind her as she walked towards the set, but there was nobody there. She continued to walk hurriedly, hoping no-one had noticed her unusual behaviour, even as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. She could have sworn that she had seen Ijawunmi’s reflection in the mirror, their cheeks had been touching even though she hadn’t felt or sensed anything. It had only been a split second, but it been long enough for her to see the malevolence in Ijawunmi’s eyes, and she wondered whether it was finally time to take the weave out. She’d had it on for almost four weeks now, and her tracks were getting loose. Her mind went to the charm that was nestled under her pillow, and she relaxed slightly  as she remembered that Ijawunmi was tied up and couldn’t come near her. The movie set was in the middle of a built up neighbourhood, and there were no streams or rivers anywhere in the vicinity. She made a mental note to call Baba Apata once they had a break during filming, and she walked on to the set with a bright smile, ignoring the panic that had started to gnaw away at her insides.

Deinde lolled in the comfort of his car as his driver wove his way through the mid-morning traffic. He was on his way to see his solicitors as he intended to initiate divorce proceedings against Shade without any further delay. He wasn’t sure he intended to rush into marriage with Deidre, but he wanted the option to be open to him legally, if and when he decided to go down that route. A tap on the window startled him, and he looked up to see a magazine vendor holding up several glossy magazines. He had been too engrossed in his thoughts to realise his car had come to a near halt in the dense traffic, and he glanced idly at the magazines, intending to dismiss the vendor without making any purchases. One of the headlines practically screamed at him….’Lagos socialite contracts lice from Brazilian hair’ and without further thought, he pointed to the magazine and instructed his driver to make the purchase. He leafed through the magazine till he got to the story, and chuckled aloud at how the socialite had discovered the lice a full week after having the hair sewn in. ‘Didn’t she realise something was wrong when her head started itching?’ he wondered to himself, and as if on cue, he felt a tingle run across his palm. He glanced at it casually as the wound had since healed, and all that remained was a dark line that ran across where the cut had been. His stomach clenched as he saw that his palm had started to seep where the cut had been, and on closer inspection, he saw a myriad of black dots along either side of the cut. He tried to rub them away then realised in horror that they were in fact under his skin. He leaned back trying to make sense of  what he was seeing, and then his palm started to itch. He tried to ignore it, but the itch intensified with every passing minute, and he finally gave in with a groan and gingerly ran his nails across his palm. The relief he felt was instant, and he closed his eyes as he gave in to the urge to scratch a little harder. He carried on for a few seconds before his mind registered that something was amiss, and then his eyes flew open as he realised his nails had become entwined in hair. He looked at his palm only to see that the black dots had burst through his skin and were now fine strands of luxuriant hair. He screamed like one possessed, and ordered the driver to change direction and go to Deidre’s film set instead.

Deidre said her lines flawlessly until the director yelled ‘Cut. Take five’, and then she sauntered back to where she had left her bag. She had Baba Apata on speed dial, and he agreed to see her later that afternoon as he had had a cancellation. Her final scene for the day needed no words, and she knew she’d be leaving the set in less than an hour if everything went well. On hearing her name, she walked back, and then stopped short and frowned as she saw a large mirror being maneuvered into place. ‘What’s happening?’ she bit out through clenched teeth. ‘Slight change’ replied her co-star ‘Instead of me coming in and meeting you lost in thought, staring into space, you’ll be staring into a mirror instead.’ Deidre’s heart sank into her shoes at first, and then she gave herself a mental shake as she convinced herself that her imagination had simply been working overtime earlier. She stepped forward confidently, sat down in front of the mirror with her head in her hands as directed, and then lifted her head to gaze at herself. She blinked in disbelief as she saw Ijawunmi staring back at her instead of her own reflection, and even as she leapt backwards in fear, Ijawunmi reached through the mirror and grabbed a handful of hair. Deidre screamed and started running, just stopping long enough to grab her bag. She could still feel Ijawunmi’s hand in her hair, but oddly enough, the hair wasn’t being ripped from her scalp this time. As she ran towards the busy road, she was surprised to see Deinde’s car coming towards her and she made for it with an extra burst of speed. She snatched the  back door open even before the car had come to a complete halt, and she flung herself into it panting. ‘Deinde,we have to go to Baba Apata right now’ she gasped, before it sank in that his presence there at time was highly unusual. ‘Deinde…why are you here? What has happened? Why are you holding that hair piece so tightly in your hand?’

Deinde gave a strange high pitched giggle, and then opened up his palm and held it before her eyes. She screamed in disbelief as she saw that his palm had split wide open, and the hair was sprouting from it. Even as she looked, she saw dots appearing under his skin, and then slowly poking through the flesh a short while after. She gave the driver Baba Apata’s address, and scooted away from Deinde as far as she could. There was no need for words between them, there was nothing to be said as the car sped on its way.

To be continued…….

Hair today…….gone tomorrow Part 7

It was almost mid-day, and Deidre stretched as she came awake slowly. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless for the first time in the past few days, and she felt well rested. She glanced at the clock and leapt out of bed as she realised she had to hurry so as not to be late for her appointment with Baba Apata. Last night’s party had been a success in more ways than one, she had snagged the leading role, leaving more seasoned actresses quite disgruntled at her good fortune. She touched her hand to her scalp, and could hardly feel any pain at all even when she applied pressure to the sore patches. Deinde had been the perfect companion, and she was convinced that her visit to the babalawo would put an end to the nightmarish events that had occurred previously. Her hair undulated around her as she moved, and she admitted wryly to herself that she was in no hurry to remove the weave, despite what she had gone through.

Baba Apata was ready and waiting when she arrived, and he listened to everything she had to say in appalled fascination while trying to pretend that it was the kind of tale he heard everyday. ‘And you say her name is Ijawunmi?’ as he drew out every syllable of the name in appreciation of its meaning. ‘Yes’ came her terse reply. He threw down some cowrie shells and stared at them in concentration while he pondered over which band to hire for his upcoming nuptials, and then he turned to her in triumph. ‘The gods have spoken, she is a mammy water spirit, and we will tie her so she can not come on dry land anymore. You must avoid going near any seas or rivers as long as the hair is on your head, and you will be fine. You will have to come back this evening for a charm to place under your pillow, this will ensure that she remains tied. It will cost you N40,000 for the charm, and N2000 for kolanuts for the gods.’ ‘And I don’t have to remove the hair?’ ‘No, not at all, not till you are ready to take it out’ came Baba Apata’s quick response, and Deidre was more than happy to count out the required sum. She enquired what time he wanted her to return, and then calculated that she had a few hours to spare before then. Feeling much lighter than she had on coming in, she practically skipped out.‘Ijawunmi ko, Ifewunmi ni’ muttered Leke as he stared at her driving off. ‘Foolish woman, I am sure it is the guilt she feels over chasing another woman’s husband that is causing her hair to fall out.’ And with that, he started rooting through his vast collection of props in order to fashion her ‘charm’ for her.

Deidre hummed to herself as she drove, she had been prepared to pay much more than Baba had requested, it was not as if the money was actually coming out of her own pocket, it was Deinde’s mess, and he jolly well had to pay to clear it up. Her phone was on the seat next to her, and she glanced at it as it rang. ‘Think of the devil’ she thought as she saw his name flashing on her phone ‘he’ll have to wait till I get home’. As she pulled into her complex, she hit the speed dial, and heard his voice almost before the first ring had ended. ‘Deinde, come over’ she drawled, ‘I’m in the mood to celebrate, and I’m sure you know what that means. Make sure you bring your wallet too’ and with that she hung up. Deinde arrived in the next thirty minutes, and even though they engaged in heavy petting, she kept a tight rein on things as she did not want them ending up asleep in each other’s arms before the charm was safely underneath her pillow. An hour later, feeling all loved up, they drove out in Deinde’s car to go for a meal, after which they intended to stop at Baba Apata’s before returning to Deidre’s.

Shade felt unsettled as she prayed. She knew without any doubts that Deinde was having an affair, but this one was different. His past flings had rarely lasted for more than a fortnight, but she knew he had been seeing this particular girl for over six months. She had come on this retreat because she had decided to leave him, it did not matter to her anymore that she would be frowned upon for not suffering in silence as so many of her fellow church members did, but she had come to the end of her tether, and wanted no more of him and his philandering ways. She felt a bittersweet joy that they had not been able to have any children yet despite having been married for six years, but was relieved she did not have to factor them into the decision she had reluctantly made. She remembered the cut in his hand, and again felt an urge to pray for him, and even though she didn’t see why she had to, she obediently lifted him up in prayer again.

Deidre loved Kiru Taye’s books, and though she had despaired of meeting a man who could move her the way the fictional heroes did, Deinde ticked all her boxes in just the right manner. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they finally drew apart, and she purred with satisfaction as she lay her head on his chest. ‘When are you going to tell Shade you’re leaving her’ she asked. ‘As soon as she returns from her retreat’ he replied ‘you are all I have ever wanted in a woman, I can’t deny it anymore, not even to myself’ and with a satisfied smile she fell asleep. The following days were uneventful, Shade had not argued with Deinde when he had informed her he was moving out, strangely enough she had seemed relieved, and he had happily moved in with Deidre. It seemed their lives were idyllic, and they looked forward to a future together.

The  Umbanda festival was in full swing, and excitement and dread filled the air in equal measure. Shango worshippers were ecstatic, as they knew this was the season for settling old scores, and those who wanted nothing to do with the old religion crammed into churches every evening for Mass, as they tried to ward off the evil that hung around like a tangible force. Parents kept a close eye on their children, especially in the favelas, and it was not uncommon to hear women wailing that a child or the other was missing. Everyone knew that it was the season for ritual sacrifices, and that the gods were partial towards the blood of young children. Ijawunmi and her cohorts were in their element, and they received every sacrifice brought by their acolytes gladly. They had a steady supply of blood, both animal and human, and they gorged themselves on it as they prepared for the coming battle.

To be continued…….

Hair today…..gone tomorrow Part 6

They caused a stir as they arrived at the party. Deinde could not be described as handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a bearing that was almost regal, and his imposing physique always made him stand out wherever he went. Deidre though was naturally pretty, and tonight, she looked absolutely stunning. Her made-to-measure dress fitted her like a second skin without being vulgar, and her hair rippled down to the middle of her back as she gave the performance of her life. She was a professional actress, and no-one seeing the bright smile that wreathed her lips could ever have guessed at the turmoil that lay behind it. They were attending a pre-production party that was all the more important because the leading lady for the upcoming movie was to be announced after dinner. Genevieve, Omotola and Stella were all in attendance too, but none of them could hold a candle to Deidre who had never looked better than she did tonight. She was at the pinnacle of her career, and all she needed to complete her happiness was a man to call her own, and she felt that she had found that  man in Deinde. She was complimented on her hair and her outfit by her friends, and she caught the envious glances of those who would rather choke than admit that she looked stunning. It was their first public outing as a couple, and she happily showed Deinde off as if he were a trophy, which indeed to her he was. Deinde too was proud to have Deidre’s attention, and he also relished the opportunity to rub shoulders with the movers and shakers of the Nollywood movie industry. Although he was not consciously aware of it, he was a social climber, and being in the company of such people made him feel as if he had truly arrived. He liked the ease with which Deidre flitted from person to person, and his mind flashed to Shade, and how uncomfortable she would have felt in this setting. He wondered again why the oil hadn’t worked, but his hand was no longer itching or hurting under the bandage, and he firmly put away all thoughts of what had happened, and threw himself into enjoying the party.

Smoke swirled around the shrouded figures as they huddled around in a circle. They were from different walks of life, but were united in their service of Shango. Ijawunmi knelt in the space between them and they listened in silence as she stated her case, and requested their assistance. Her pursuit of vengeance was taking its toll on her, and her strength was fast being depleted. She finished speaking, and still the silence remained till their high priestess spoke up. ‘Have you told us everything my daughter?’ she asked. ‘There is one more thing…’ Ijawunmi stuttered. ‘There is a woman of the Light.’ An audible gasp arose from the seated figures as they considered this added complication. Still they sat still as they awaited their leader’s decision. ‘Just one woman?’ she asked. ‘Yes mother’ Ijawunmi replied. ‘We are many, she would not be able to withstand us’ was the leader’s response ‘The festival is coming up next week, there will be many sacrifices, and blood will flow like a river. The blood will give us the strength we need, this battle is not yours alone my child. Rest, and regain your strength. Be patient for a few days, and then we’ll go on the trip together.’ She stood up, touched Ijawunmi’s head and muttered an incantation, and Ijawunmi fell to the side in a deep swoon. ‘Make her comfortable’ she ordered the others, ‘and then we have to prepare. There is much work to be done’.

Baba Apata was a charlatan except none of his affluent clients knew it. His real name was Leke, and he was a Theatre Arts graduate who had minored in Linguistics. After going for more auditions than he cared to count without success, he had despaired of getting any work in his field until a friend had asked him to dress up as a babalawo to scare his debtor into paying back the money he owed. The ruse had worked like a treat, the terrified debtor paying up in record time under the threat of spiritual consequences if he failed to do so, and thus Baba Apata had been born. He rented a two-room apartment in Yaba, solely for the purpose of meeting his clients, and it had proved to be a much more lucrative career that he could have ever imagined. He spoke several Nigerian languages fluently, as well as regional dialects, and he often amused himself by trying to translate Shakespeare into one language or the other while his clients sat in bemused fascination, thinking he was chanting incantations to the spirits. He dispensed powders and potions as required, no one but himself knowing that they were harmless placebos, designed to give nothing more than an upset stomach at the very worst. People went away from consultations convinced that he was a powerful herbalist, and before he realised it, his fame had spread far and near. He never asked for livestock for rituals, insisting on cash so he could carry out the necessaries himself in the heart of the forest. He knew his luck would run out one day, and he was beginning to tire of the theatrical makeup he had to apply to transform himself into an elderly hunchbacked man anytime he saw a client. He looked at his phone thoughtfully as he mulled over what Deidre had told him. Even though she had been almost incoherent with hysteria, he had garnered enough to realise that she was dealing with a real spiritual threat, and she expected him to be able to deal with it. The thought of actually coming into contact with spirits of any kind made him shudder, and he made a sign of the cross as he pondered over what the next day meant for him.

To be continued……

Hair today….gone tomorrow Part 5

Deidre backed away from Deinde as the words tumbled out of his mouth. Hands clutching her head, she started to whimper as he spoke of how Ijawunmi’s hair had cut his hand, and then began crying in earnest as he described how the cut had only started healing when his wife Shade, had rubbed it with her anointing oil. ‘You have to get that oil’ she demanded. ‘Go home, and go and bring that oil.’ ‘What about the party?’ Deinde stuttered. ‘What party?’ she screamed. ‘You and your Ijawunmi have just finished ripping her juju hair straight from my scalp and you are talking about a party. What party?’ Her words reminded Deinde about his hand, and he glanced down at it as he tried to pull her hair away from his palm. A piercing pain pulsed through his hand as he did so, and even though he looked closely, he could not see where the hair growing from his palm ended and where the weft from Deidre’s head started. He looked around wildly and seeing a pair  of scissors on her dressing table, he grabbed them and cut the hair off from just above where it sprouted out of his palm. He glared at Deidre, wondering if she truly thought he was going to go all the way back to his house just to get the blasted oil. ‘If you want us to attend that party, you will go home right now, and get me that oil’ she screamed again, and tossing the hair on to the bed, he scrambled into his clothes and headed for the door. Part of his attraction to Deidre had been the fact that she had a strong, domineering personality, and didn’t take nonsense from anyone, himself included. He admitted to himself that the attraction was fast wearing off now, and wondered what his wife would say if she saw him scurrying about at the behest of a girl who was more than 15 years his junior. His palm started itching again, and without looking, he could tell that the hair was beginning to grow again. It was almost as though his proximity to Deidre acted as a growth stimulant, and he swore aloud as he got into his car. His mind went to Shade, and his heart skipped a beat as he remembered she had mentioned something about about going for a weekend retreat with members of her church department. She had tried to explain to him the joy she felt about being a member of the intercessory team, but he had been too irritated to pay her any attention. Prayer, prayer, prayer! Who needed it? He swerved to avoid a pothole, and continued in his frantic quest to get home and back in time for the party.

Deidre tossed another wad of cotton wool into the bin as she determined that the patches in her scalp had stopped bleeding. Even though she was still terrified by everything she had experienced and heard in the past couple of hours, she couldn’t help glancing at herself in the mirror. The hair framed her face perfectly, and was full enough to conceal the fact that some wefts had been tugged out. Parting the hair carefully, she looked at the patches on her scalp. They looked raw and angry, and she carefully applied some spray plaster as precisely as she could. Her mind worked feverishly as she wondered what she should do. She thought of calling Eniola, her former room mate, to pray with her over the phone, but then she remembered Ijawunmi’s mocking expression as she had recited Psalm 23, and she suddenly doubted the efficacy of prayer against the fiend. Her mind darted to Baba Apata. She had gone to him a few weeks ago with Deinde’s fingernail clippings and in return, had been given a padlock which Baba had instructed her to throw into the water at Bar Beach. A self-preservation instinct she had not understood had kept her from doing so at the time, and she now dug her hand underneath her mattress to retrieve the padlock. Looking at it, she realised it probably wasn’t in her best interests to be bound to Deinde seeing as he was now accompanied by a spiritual stalker, so she picked her phone and made an appointment to see Baba the very next day.

Deinde screeched to a halt, flung open the car door, and dashed into his house without bothering to shut the door. ‘Shade’ he thundered. ‘Shade!’. ’Madam no dey house, she go return on Monday morning, sah’ replied his housekeeper as she emerged from the guest bathroom, wiping her wet hands. He muttered a curse as he went into the bedroom and began to rummage through Shade’s things. Like he had thought, he found a bottle of anointing oil, and sighing with relief, he opened the bottle and dribbled some of it unto the cut on his palm. This time, nothing happened. He sniffed the air, but there was nothing. The oil spilled into the cut, making the hair swirl, and began to trickle unto the floor. Deinde was transfixed as he continued to pour the oil. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he knew this wasn’t it. He recovered himself long enough to put the lid back on the bottle, then he turned, and left the room.

 

To be continued………

 

Hair today…..gone tomorrow Part 4

Deidre opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. She had fallen asleep in Deinde’s arms as he whispered his undying love into her ears, and she wondered why and when she had left the warmth and comfort of her bed to lie on the ground in what appeared to be a forest clearing. A bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, as she clambered to her feet, and she realised she was standing in the open without any clothes on. She glanced around but couldn’t see Deinde, and then she heard someone running towards her. A feeling of dread overwhelmed her as she remembered the crazy-eyed woman from the night before, and she darted towards the trees ahead in a bid to hide. As she got to the shelter they offered, she caught sight of Deinde and she ran towards him in the hope that he could explain what they were doing there. He was scratching away at his hand as she approached, and she soon saw the reason why. Hair was sprouting from his palm, and it looked eerily like the same hair that was on her head. She realised immediately that he was in no position to help her, and she crouched behind a tree and began to recite Psalm 23, which was the only part of the Bible she could remember. She got to ‘walk through the valley of’ and then broke off as she realised another voice was reciting it along with her. She whirled around in disbelief to see the same woman from the previous night loping towards her, quoting Psalm 23 as well. Sheer panic  fuelled Deidre’s legs as she got up and began to run. Ijawunmi laughed in sheer delight, and took off in pursuit after her.

Deinde watched them dispassionately as they ran, and then he returned to scratching at his hand. He had no idea as to how they had landed in the midst of a humid, tropical forest, and he wasn’t in the slightest bit curious. He felt detached from all that was going around him, all he cared about was his hand. He wasn’t sure if it was the itching or the subsequent scratching that had caused it, but the hair growing from his palm seemed unstoppable, and he knew the woman in pursuit of Deidre was behind it all. He thought longingly of his wife Shade, and determined that once he was able to get away from here, he would go straight to her for some more of that oil of hers. Ijawunmi caught up with Deidre easily after she tired of playing cat and mouse with her, and grabbing two handfuls of hair, she jerked with such force the hair came away with pieces of scalp hanging from the bottom. Deidre screamed in pain, and Ijawunmi’s scream of victory mingled with hers to chilling effect. Gripping the hair in one hand, Ijawunmi returned to where Deinde still stood, seemingly in a stupor. She approached him warily, unsure of whether the woman with the bright light would suddenly appear, but she was able to reach him without being impeded. She stared at him till he looked at her in the eyes, and she saw recognition dawn in his. She longed to reach her hands into his chest and rip his heart out the way she had with the chicken, but there seemed to be an invisible force holding her back. She noted to herself that its strength had diminished since their previous encounter, and contented herself with saying ‘Irun mi, da pada!’, and then she left.

Deidre’s scream jerked Deinde out of an unpleasant dream, and he sat up quickly, wondering if Shade had tracked him down to his lover’s house. He saw Deidre clutching her head as she sat up beside him, and as he reached out to comfort her, his hand started itching and he rubbed it against the sheet to relieve the itch. He stared in disbelief at the reddish streak this action caused, and as he glanced at his hand, Deidre forgotten, he saw that it had split open at the cut, and this time, there was no mistaking the luxuriant hair that grew from it. At first, he thought he had somehow gotten Deidre’s hair entangled in his palm, but the pain that radiated through him as he tried to pull the strands off convinced him otherwise. Deidre was moaning in pain as she clutched her head, and he could see trickles of blood running down her head. ’What happened?’ he gasped ‘how did you hurt your head?’. She turned to look at him, and he recoiled as he saw the fear in her eyes. ‘Where did you get this hair from?’ she demanded, ‘what have you done to me?’. He tried to gently ease her hands away from her head so he could examine it and stem the bleeding if possible, and he felt a jolt run through his right hand as it came into contact with her hair. He jerked his hand away but her hair came too as it had inexplicably become meshed with the hair on his hand, and he looked in disbelief as the blood from the scalp dangling at the end started to drip on to the bed.

To be continued……..

Hair today…..gone tomorrow (bonus part)

Ijawunmi paced back and forth like a caged tiger. She was proud of her name. Handed down through the years to all the first-born daughters of her mother’s lineage,its meaning was a pale reflection of how she felt now. She had been initiated into the office of a priestess on the eve of her thirteenth birthday, and she neither knew nor desired any other life. She had invited Shango into her spirit some hours before, and had subsequently fallen into a trance. In it, she had seen her quarry ahead of her, but had not been able to catch up with her despite her best efforts. As she desperately strained towards her, she had heard Shango’s husky whisper in her ears ‘Soon my daughter, soon’ and then had snapped out of the trance. It wasn’t enough, she had wanted more, she had wanted him, the thief who had stolen from her, so she chanted Shango’s name over and over again till she fell into another trance. In it, she had seen the man. He had tried to hide behind a woman, but she had seen him. She had longed to leap at him and rip out his thieving heart, but she had been unable to reach him. The woman in front of him had radiated a bright light that made it impossible for her to get to him. She had screamed out her frustration, snapping out of the trance again. This time, she knew it was enough. Returning into a trance so quickly had expended some of her life force, and she knew she had to proceed carefully in order to exact her revenge without losing her own life in the process. Taking a squawking chicken from the dusty yard and she had severed its head with one quick stroke of her sharp knife. Putting her lips to its neck she had thirstily gulped down the warm blood from its still quivering body until it grew still and had then used the knife to open up its breast. Reaching inside, she had thrown its heart unto the fire that burned in the shrine. She then lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

The images not been clear the last time she checked. She had glanced into the bowl of water from time to time since she’d awoken, but had not seen enough to enable her set out. She continued to pace in frustration. Her mind wandered to the woman in the bright light, and knew she had no chance of getting to her prey as long as the woman was around. She ceased her pacing to kneel before the large bowl of water that was in front of the shrine. All she saw was her reflection, and she remained motionless as she continued to stare at its surface. Suddenly, the water rippled, and she found herself looking at the the thief as he embraced a woman. She waited to see the bright light, and then realised it was a different woman. A woman wearing Ijawunmi’s hair! She let out a piercing scream, and scrambling to her feet, she grabbed a razor and drew it sharply across her left palm. She held her bleeding hand upside down over the flames, and remained unflinching as one of the flames reached up to lick across the surface of the cut. ‘Shango ooo!’ she screamed ‘Ijawunmi ooooo!’. Thunder rumbled overhead, and it started to rain.

To be continued….

Hair today…..gone tomorrow Part 3

 

Shade stirred awake slowly, then turned over in bed to look at her husband who was sleeping fitfully beside her. It was a Saturday morning, and there was nowhere to rush off to which made a nice change from her busy routine. She touched his forehead with her fingers, and it felt hot, like he was running a temperature. His injured hand was lying on the bedcover , and she immediately noticed that the swelling had disappeared and the cut had closed, but there seemed to be a black line running across it. She shuddered as she remembered the events of the previous night, and after the strange dream she had had, she knew that something was definitely amiss. In the dream, she had been in a forest clearing standing between a stunning albeit bald-headed woman and Deinde. Surprisingly though, rather than being his usual swaggering self, Deinde had seemed to be cowering behind Shade, while the woman had repeatedly asked him a question which he could or would not answer. Shade had sensed the woman’s frustration at not being able to reach Deinde, but there seemed to be an invisible force around Shade that kept her at bay, even though the three of them could all see each other clearly. In the end the woman had raised up her right hand, rubbed it across her head, pointed at him, and had disappeared.

 

After the power cut last night, Shade had expected the generators to come on, but the houseboy had come to report that neither one was working, even though they were both full of diesel. She had used the light of a torch to locate the now-empty bottle of olive oil that had been prayed over in her church, and sticking her little finger into it, had managed to get the last few drops out. Muttering a prayer, she had rubbed her finger over the cut in her husband’s hand, whereupon a smell like singed hair had filled the air. Her action appeared to have jolted him out of his somnambulant state, and he had thanked her profusely as she wrapped a clean bandage around his right hand.

 

Determined to get to the bottom of things, she reached for his shoulder, and shook him awake.

 

Deidre arrived at Ayo’s Hair Palace in a jovial mood, and not even the news that Ayo had been called away unexpectedly could do anything to take her joy away. On being told K-Row had been assigned to do her hair, she settled back in her seat and sipped on a bottle of ice-cold Krest Bitter Lemon as she watched him finishing up another client’s hairdo. K-Row was short and stocky, but he was as graceful as a dancer as he flitted around his client, snipping away with his scissors until he was satisfied with his handiwork. She knew he was skilled, but there was something about him she had never liked, she just couldn’t put her finger on it. He was rumored to have lived in England for a few years before his immigration status or lack of it was discovered, which had led to his subsequent deportation. He was skilled in doing weave-ons, and plaits or cornrows as they were referred to in London, hence his nickname. His client stood up and pressed a wad of Naira notes into his hand in appreciation, before going to the lobby to pay the cashier. He tidied his station before coming over to her to say he was ready to do her hair. ‘You want to fix?’ he asked as she reached into her Coach tote and pulled out the hair. There was a collective gasp in the salon as he held up the Brazilian wefts, and various voices rang out as stylists and clients alike rained compliments on the beauty and quality of the hair. His dark eyes gleamed as he looked at the hair, and he whispered ‘irun Orisha’ as he touched one of the many strange medallions he wore around his neck. A couple of the stylists wandered near as if to touch the hair, but a glare from him sent them scampering away and they had to content themselves with gawping at it from a distance. She told him what style she wanted, and instructed him to keep the length of the hair intact, and he nodded silently in agreement as  he started to weave her hair. Two hours later, her transformation was complete. He had done a masterful job, and it looked as if the hair was actually hers. He had left a small section of her own medium length hair out in front, and even after peering at it closely, it was impossible to tell where her own hair ended and the extensions started. She had had a manicure and pedicure while her hair was being done, and she looked liked she had just stepped off the set of a Hollywood movie. Not wanting to smudge her nails, she motioned to one of the stylists to help her open her tote, and she carefully peeled off some notes from the bundle she had placed just inside. ‘Please help me pay’ she instructed K-Row, ‘and then you can keep the change.’ Her mind went to Deinde briefly as she thought about how his jaw would drop when he saw her, and then she frowned as she remembered his strange behaviour the day before. ‘I hope he has gotten over whatever was disturbing him, and I hope that nurse of his has seen to his hand’ were her thoughts as she headed out to her car.

 

Deinde stared at his wife sullenly as she continued to talk. He had denied anything being the matter when she had woken him up, and had insisted that he cut his hand whilst in a barber’s salon in Rio after mistakenly picking up a shaving razor. He had laughed off her insistence that she had seen hair growing in his cut, and had said it must have come off the dirty razor. Shade was worried the cut was infected, but since it had apparently started to heal, he was in no mood to be badgered about seeing a doctor, and all he wanted to do was to get of of his house and go to Deidre’s so they could get into the party mood before going out to the party itself. He tuned in briefly to listen to his wife, and visibly bristled when she said she perceived that something was seriously amiss.

 

‘There you go again’ he roared. ‘You and all this your brainwashed talk. What on earth does perceive mean? Why can’t you speak plain English? And you had better get that oil stain out of my Persian carpet before I get home tonight, otherwise you’ll be perceiving something else.’ With that, he turned his back on her, and went back to sleep.

 

To be continued…