The Last Sanguma

The Night is Dark? Well-not to me.

The night was dark, an ancient blanket of blackness. Under my paws, twigs bent noiselessly and leaves whispered as I swept under trees 80 feet tall. Mosquitoes and bugs serenaded the darkness with buzzes and spits. Somewhere over my head, an owl hooted. My ears twitched as I took in the familiar sounds of the wild. Sinuses extended, I sniffed the wind for any oncoming scent of prey, or of danger. Other than the unnatural but familiar scent of men on the hiking trail, there was nothing unfamiliar. Nose to the ground, I moved on.

Dig, release, leap. Dig, release, leap. I lost myself in the rhythm of my legs as I "patrolled". The night was dark, yes, but not dark enough for these eyes-nothing is dark enough for these eyes. And nothing can hide. I saw the forest clearer than day, every detail, every angle, all in ultra ultra ultra ultra HD. From the woodlice in that rotting spruce to the dews on that oak, to the cicadas mating on a young birchwood's leaf, to the canopy a 100 feet above. No, make that 94 feet above. I forgot to menion that I'm six feet tall? Right.

Left right, left right, my paws worked as I circled the perimeter. Nothing was off and if anything came, my scent would scare them off. Knowing I would be dead tired tomorrow, I turned tail and came back to base.

The phone alarm went off at 6, I had no need of the alarm, my internal clock was just fine, but it was a prop. I needed to keep up an appearance for my mom and my little sisters. I needed them to see me as a normal 20 year old and their son and brother and not some freak who had weird dreams that were actually true. No they were true, I just liked to play dumb that they aren't. I checked the percentage, it read 42%. It would suffice for the whole day. What?Of course I trust my Samsung, c'mon. I took the phone into the bathroom with me, selected my Dad's favourite hiphop song from his own album, no shit excuse my French but he was a rapper before he died-I'll get to that later aight, hit play, jumped into the cold shower and let the tempo and the water enclose me.

I stepped out, dried myself, brushed my teeth and went back to my room. On the way, I banged on the girls' room, partly to annoy them and partly to wake them up. They weren't sleeping, they were discussing tiktok but they shut up and pretended that they just woke up when I knocked. I smiled, nothing deceived me any of these days. I heard mom in the kitchen, so I packed the books in my bag and headed down. The girls were already sitting at the table. All had the creamy toned complexion of mixed race children and mom's long hair, I however was plain old boring brown and had inherited Dad's steelwool "garas"- that's pidgin (Tok pisin) for hair. Mom was serving pancakes to Almirah who was 12 and, considered, the baby of the family. She looked that part too, cute, pouty lips, and dimples, and of course a sense of mischief that Mom calls "humor"-gods help me. Christel was on her phone, thumbs akimbo as she struggled to type god knows what. She's 16, tall, willowy and graceful and Mom was eyeing her like she wanted to slap the phone out of her hand. Alex was playing with her food and eyeing me like I just fell from a spaceship. Her real name was Alexandra but she insisted that we all call her Alex, whatever. She's 17, something of a tomboy and a goth fan, sometimes I just give up pretending to understand my sisters.

"Sleep well honey?" Mom asked, Almirah groaned, "Moooom, he's 20, stop calling him honey, he has a girlfriend to call him that, call me honey mommy, please pretty please". Alex snickered and Chris snorted into her phone. Mom frowned at the three of them and I rolled my eyes. "He'll be always my big baby, you came later Al, that doesn't mean mummy doesn't love you". This time I groaned. "Okay, kiddo, scoot. You've had enough time with mom, go change". She stuck out her tounge at me and went upstairs. Chris and Alex followed. "Oh and mom?", I heard Alex call, " tell your son we know who his girlfriend is". My face burned and I refused to meet mom's eyes. To my surprise, I sensed her smiling, I looked up and saw that she was watching me with a smirk, " About time, thought you were gay". I flushed, embarrassed and looked away and she laughed. As I saw her laughing,  I recognised the woman my Dad- a Chemist, one of Papua New Guineas finest and a part time rapper- had fallen in love with. Her eyes, green eyes, my eyes, my sister's eyes, her upbeat energy and her energetic appearance gave off the impression that she was a mom of one, not a mother of four. I felt tears come into my eyes and I looked away. She noticed the change. "Sweetie, you okay?". "I'm fine Ma, I just got burned by coffee". She looked sad then and I knew she knew I was lying. I checked the time, it was 7:45, time to go. I got up, pecked her on the cheek, called to the three little misses(not so little anymore but I'm still their big brother) , why do women take so long to change anyway? I headed outside to the garage,  took mom's key and pressed the remote and the black Mitsubishi Pajero chirped. Mom was driving my car, a BMW, I was too embarrassed to drive it to school anyways and it looked too glossy on the carport but it fit mom's position and as the Head of Dad's company, you gotta drive something fancy cause a Pajero just won't do. So I handed her my car after talking her into it.

I thumped the horn for three minutes until the girls came. Warning them for the 100th time not to keep me waiting like a fool again, I reversed out the garage, eased down the street and hit the freeway. I dropped them off at their school at 7:59, traffic was light-neh kidding, I drove like a maniac. Then I headed off for Uni.

I repeated the same old routine of identification at the front gate then drove down towards the square where the car park was. I sat still for a moment with the engine running, feeling the tension roll over me then glanced up. Sitting on a bench in full view of me was the moon, I mean my moon, I mean uh just say it boy, I mean my uh nevermind. She was reading a book, she loved reading books, that was what drew me to her. I loved books too, and sexy women who carry books around, who perused them frequently instead of playing with iPhones,women who read your emotions perfectly, who know what you want...