Natura: Uhuru Genesis

SONIA

"You think I'm your guardian angel?" Anansi looks at her, without locking eyes, but beaming.

Sonia sneers without malice, "No you hobo! I'm only saying, I do get scared, a lot. And, it's difficult when I feel the arms of darkness wrap around me."

Anansi's beam snuffs out, a quickly gutted candle, "miss," a flood of concern now comes to her face, which has become strangely neon-blue in the lights outlining the driving console, "have you been dreaming, again? Bad nightmares of the yurei?"

Something hot flashes in Sonia's eyes, and then she looks like she's been sucker-punched with a brass knuckle, "how do you know, about the yurei? I've never told anyone about the yurei. Anansi, are you snooping?" She finds her small hands clutching the edge of her seat.

"No, miss," Anansi disputes, "I just heard you yell in your sleep."

Sonia screws her mouth, "you've been watching me sleep, you bloody creep!" Sonia snarls, and folds her hands to fists. "You –"

She doesn't finish. Anansi is not listening. Oh! Nothing makes a girl go bananas like being ignored. And Anansi knows that. So Sonia, shell-shocked, follows her line of sight; because she's quickly gone sallow, and sickly. There's a left turn, marked Cedar Road. In the corner, is a popstar billboard. But it's what the billboard illuminates, under it, which makes goosebumps race along her arms.

Where East Way Avenue was a ghost town, Cedar road is a mobbed one. She spots a jungle of people, who, even in the leafy shadows, she can tell, look like Lou and Basha; all swarthy, and dark, but red-haired. "It's the savages," Anansi points, "they're rioting."

"What! Why?"

"It's always about something."

"I hope, that's not a problem," Sonia says, worriedly.

"It is," Anansi replies, distracted, "you do know, to get to White Cathedral, we must cut through Cedar Road, miss." Hmm, actually, Sonia has found the roads around here an intricate maze. First, she's always in the backseats, tying cherry knots for fun, or vaping when she's with Mzee; bickering and cursing when with Anansi; or quiet and nibbling her nails when in the company of Kashta or Minab. Add that her trips only happen in the night.

"What are we going to do?" Sonia surges forward on her seat, peering, "should we go back?"

Anansi exhales. Sonia is used to it now. At first, she thought Anansi was like her older folks, who didn't need to breathe. She'd thought Anansi was just being dramatic. But she saw the difference in their first fight; when she smashed a flower vase on her head, and she bled. "We can't," Anansi says, measuredly, "Basha and Lou may be natives, but we gave them our word. I think, we join the rioters, and walk with them to cathedral."

"Are you nuts!"

"Miss," Anansi furrows her brow, "If you want to see your son and sister again, or be free; you should know, only bravery makes your stars align. And, believe me, if you stay here, you won't recognize the monster you'll become ... one year from now."

Sonia is so startled that words have disappeared from her mouth, for the first time. The scorching burn in her chest, of anger, too is amiss. When she finally speaks, her tone is deep, and grave, "H-how shall we make it?"

A moment later, after careful consideration, Anansi pulls the baby-whale-sized car up at a shallow curb, at the junction, behind a parked cab. "Let the car remain locked here, miss. I've set it to autonomous. It'll catch up, with the luggage, once the riot clears."

Sonia nibbles her thumb, blowing into her hands, to thaw the icy weather. As they agreed, Anansi reaches over, and bunches Sonia's long hair, tying it up. She then strikes through with a thin object she's had bitten between her teeth. It must be a pencil. Sonia just looks on. "Here," Anansi produces scraps of silk, a navy blue so dark, from her sweater pocket. She veils Sonia's head with the cloth, and hers with the other.