Manifest

Four

Eddie picked up one of the garbage cans and tossed it at the fence.

"I didn't plan to put your life in danger," Abasi Enyong said. He was sitting on the steps of the back gate of the kitchen, watching Eddie.

"Really?"

"Yes," Abasi Enyong said, meeting Eddie's eyes with no regret. "I'm barely surviving right now because you won't submit to me."

"You are not my god."

"I'm no one's god, apparently," Abasi Enyong replied, calmly. "Look at me. I can't even concentrate enough to leave your side. It's not supposed to be this way. We're connected but it doesn't have to be physical. If you'd just submit to me, I'd get my fill and be on my way. I can find my sister on my own."

Eddie hesitated at those words. In all they'd been discussing, it hadn't been mentioned that that was possible. He wondered if it was true, if he really could be rid of this nightmare.

"You can leave?" Eddie asked, moving closer to Abasi Enyong.

"Only if I have strength."

Eddie narrowed his eyes at Abasi Enyong.

"You expect me to believe if I let you bewitch me, you'll leave, and I'll be free?"

"I speak nothing but the truth," Abasi Enyong lifted his chin as he spoke.

"You said I'll die if you die."

"You do not seem very keen on helping me find the tusk. I can do it on my own if you'll just give me what I want."

Eddie had nothing to go on. No information, no history. What he did have were two choices. He could submit to a demonic charlatan and find out his free will was gone forever or he could go the rest of his life, toting around a needy deity.

"I can't just take your word for it."

"My word should be enough for you," Abasi Enyong frowned. "I do not understand how you can resist me like this."

"Trust me, the fact that I'm even talking to anyone claiming to be a god is a miracle on its own."

"Do you have something against religion?"

Yeah, nope. Eddie wasn't going to have that conversation with anyone. Ignoring the question, he rubbed his head and looked around the backyard as a headache continued to plague him. There was something rattling about in his head, struggling to take control and urging him to give in.

Whatever Abasi Enyong had done to him was still affecting him. He wondered what would happen if he let it happen again. He wondered if he would ever recover. Or would everything settle into calm because he had ceased to resist?

In the middle of a thought, Abasi Enyong sat up.

"What?" Eddie asked, shocked by his abrupt movements.

"Music," Abasi Enyong replied, standing and staring up at the sky like he was following some unseen force.

Eddie wondered what music he could be hearing. All Eddie could hear was noise around the compound coming from village touts who liked to roam the area in masks.

Abasi Enyong jogged away from him, heading towards the gate of the compound. Eddie followed. As Abasi Enyong reached the gate, a group of men came into view, on the other side of the gate.

The men wearing the huge raffia skirts were painted all over their bodies in black ink and huge, wooden masks hung on their faces. They moved slowly and majestically in their green and blue, straw skirts. Other men with smaller skirts and smaller masks jumped around, drawing reactions from people standing on the road. There were other people, like Abasi Enyong and Eddie, who were looking out from the confines of their gate.

Eddie walked up till he was beside Abasi Enyong.

"OBOMME NA DIN," Abasi Enyong shouted through the gate at the passing parade, his voice etched with excitement. Some of the men turned to look at him, some of them even started coming closer to the compound. Eddie wanted to warn Abasi Enyong not to encourage them but stopped when the god hopped on the spot, smiling as if their approach was his intent. "Obomme na din," he repeated, reaching through the bars of the gate to the men who paused, looking back at him and his outstretched hand.

Abasi Enyong hesitated, frowning.

One of the men walked forward, waved a bowl with small bills of money inside.

"Uncle," the man said. "Anything for the boys?" he asked as he shook the bowl and steadied the moving notes with his other hand. "Find us something, abeg."

Enyong frowned and leaned away from him in horror.

"What?" Abasi Enyong asked.

"It's okay," Eddie said, reaching into his shorts and pulling out a lonely five-hundred naira note as he threw it into the man's bowl.

Satisfied, the men moved on from the gate. Abasi Enyong shook his head vigorously.

"They were begging," Enyong whispered, eyes dazed and unblinking as he stared after the retreating men.

"It's normal," Eddie said with a shrug.

"Men adorned in ukara are walking on the street, begging," Abasi Enyong sounded wounded and hurt, clutching at his heart as if it ached.

"It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Abasi Enyong asked, betrayed. "Learned scholars of philosophy and art are asking for scraps and you call it nothing?"

"That's what they do-"

"They didn't even recognize me," Abasi Enyong continued. "I felt nothing from them. They wear my colors, they dress like me, yet they don't know me?" he shook his head again, squatting down with the gate for support as he banged his head against it. "I was only gone for four centuries."

"A lot changed in that time."

Abasi Enyong looked up at Eddie, aged and weary.

"You're really all I have now. Will you submit?"

Eddie didn't want to.

"It's worse than I thought. My people don't even know me. Please. I have to make this right."

"You're being overdramatic."

"Give me the power I need, and I'll leave you alone."

Honestly, that was the best outcome Eddie could think about. If this worked and Abasi Enyong left, Eddie could pretend the events of the last twenty-four hours were an ufọfọp-induced dream.