Noor(29)

“I take what I want to take,” DNA said, his cough subsiding.

Baba Sola laughed. “Only God knows everything in life,” he said with a smirk, as if he didn’t believe there was a God at all. “But I know plenty. Boy, give me your hand.”

I realized DNA and I were still holding hands. All this time, we’d been holding hands. I hadn’t even noticed it. Maybe it was the effects of the marijuana. Whenever I smoked it, time jumped in erratic unpredictable ways. One moment I was looking out the window, the next I was sitting on the couch with no recollection of the few seconds it took to turn, walk, and sit. I quickly let go of DNA’s hand, for some reason embarrassed. DNA held my eyes for a moment and then turned to Baba Sola and leaned forward, his hand held out.

Baba Sola took another puff of his joint, held it between his lips and took DNA’s hand as he gazed into DNA’s eyes. “Some Yoruba like to put charms beneath the skin, but somehow I’ve always felt that was kind of primitive. It’s like putting a computer chip under the skin instead of using nanotechnology to grow it right into the ribonucleic acid or just strong psychic energy from a travelling man like me.” He leaned forward and roughly pulled DNA closer.

“What?” DNA asked, his voice shaky. I wouldn’t have wanted to look into the sorcerer’s eyes like that either.

“I don’t think there’s much I have to say to you. But I will say this: You’re no king. You’re no leader. You’re just a herdsman. That’s good. But you listen. Listen. And when they come,” he leaned in. “Know. Your. Worth.” With each of those last three words, he shook DNA as if he were trying to wake him up.

“What are you talking about,” DNA whispered.

“You are not a herdsman, then?” Baba Sola said, letting go of his hand.

“I am, yes, but . . .”

“Then shut up,” he said. He took another puff from his joint and, as he blew the smoke out, he added, “Just remember my words. I don’t need your response to them.” Baba Sola raised his chin, his attention on me now. His eyes were blue. A cold, frozen, blue, like those of a mysterious cat. He took another pull at his joint and held it.

With each and every word he spoke, came a puff of the heady smoke. It was as if he were speaking a spell. “You, my dear, you’ve been fucked with enough. Time for you to see beyond yourself and fuck the world. Make it see a new day.” He sat back and dismissively waved a pale hand at us. “I’m blessed to have witnessed the both of you in person, but it’s time for you to be on your way. They’re coming.”

“Who?” DNA asked.

“Everybody,” he said. He was fading and the fire was fading and soon the tent began to fade, too. We both jumped up.

“Hey!” I shouted at the disappearing Baba Sola. “What do we do now?”

He laughed. “Not my story to tell.” He was gone.

And we were outside.

“Quick! Put your mask on!” DNA said. I was still carrying mine in my left hand, and quickly I pressed the gel to my face and ears. When I looked up, I saw the eeriest thing. The sun saw me and decided to hide, even as the dust covered it up. The sun moved. Swiftly. And then it was hidden behind the dwindling edge of the swirling storm. And it took the light before the dust could roll and swirl in. The light faded as Baba Sola had faded, quickly, suddenly, for no reason.

I grabbed DNA’s hand as both sand and storm fell back on us.

“Your steer?” I shouted over the noise of the storm.

He looked around, shielding his eyes with his other hand. “GPS,” he called. “Carpe Diem, to me!” I wanted to hold up my left hand and shine the small light in my fingernail around us because it was so dark, but instinct told me to wait and keep holding on to DNA.

“Urooooo!” The sound came from right behind me and I jumped, whirling around. I felt the cow push past me to nuzzle against DNA’s arm. And GPS stood right behind her. I could see this because it suddenly wasn’t so dark anymore. A piercing floodlight cut right through the dust. The drone shining the light blasted through the dust so strongly that it created a momentary funnel that reached the clear star-filled sky. It’s nighttime? I franticly wondered. How long had we been in that sand storm with the sorcerer? Maybe it was the marijuana and its time jumps.

The dust and wind swooped back in and closed the opening to the sky and I held on to DNA and one of GPS’s horns for dear life. The powerful lights from the drones flooded all around us, helicopters zipping just above us like alien ships. But somehow, they didn’t see us. Was it some of Baba Sola’s lingering juju? DNA’s weird ability to be unseen as he had been in that town? A loophole in my country’s elaborate surveillance system? Maybe they didn’t see us for all these reasons. Technology always fails eventually, and juju is made to succeed.

We snuck right past an entire line of soldiers—a herdsman wanted for murder, a woman mechanic wanted for murder, and two steer who’d survived attempted murder. The soldiers had somehow surrounded us, yet been unable to find us. To speak might have changed this, so when GPS blundered to the right and then forward, as if he knew where to go, we did, too. The sandy wind bit at and buffeted us about and for several minutes, it felt like being lost in a furious stinging sea. The wind was behind us, then in front of us, then beside us, but mostly beside us. I could feel it trying to tear at my clothes, grating at my flesh, pushing for my organs, trying to take my breath away, threatening to whisk me away. We moved slowly but steadily, shoulders hunched, heads down.